Dr Chris James – Page 3 – Publishing art, philosophy, human rights

June 10, 2025

The Persecution of Rohingya Christians.

Peter Saiful is a prominent figure among the Christian Rohingya community residing in the refugee camps of Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh. Born in Nayapara Registered Camp in Teknaf, his family fled Myanmar in 1991 and has since lived in various camps. Peter currently serves as the pastor of Bethel Church: Rohingya Christian Fellowship in the Transit Centre of Kutupalong, a role he has held since 2010. (dhakatribune.com, rohingyaphoto.com, rohingyarefugee.news) Under his leadership, the church has become a central hub for the approximately 2,000 to 2,500 Christian Rohingya individuals scattered across several camps. Despite being a small minority, they face significant challenges, including a lack of designated burial grounds and places of worship. Many Christians conceal their faith due to fear of persecution, and some have been pressured to convert to Islam. (archons.org, asianews.it) Peter has been an outspoken advocate for his community, highlighting issues such as the destruction of churches, forced conversions, and the kidnapping of Christian families by groups like the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA). In 2020, he reported that a Christian family was abducted, and their underage daughter was forced to marry and convert to Islam. (vision.org.au, heraldmalaysia.com) Additionally, Peter has been involved in efforts to translate the Bible into the Rohingya language, with nearly 10 books from the New Testament completed. However, these initiatives often lack external support, and many Christian children are educated informally due to the absence of NGO assistance. (dhakatribune.com) Through his work, Peter Saiful has become a vocal advocate for religious freedom and the rights of Christian Rohingya refugees, striving to bring attention to their plight and secure a safer environment for his community. (vision.org.au)

June 10, 2025June 10, 2025

Muhammad Jubair’s story.

My Name is Muhammad Jubair – I Am Rohingya I was born a Rohingya, but the world calls me stateless. My people once lived peacefully in Arakan, a region now known as Rakhine State in Myanmar. For generations, we farmed the land, raised families, prayed in our mosques, and spoke our Rohingya language with pride. We were citizens — recognized and included after Myanmar gained independence from British rule in 1948. But the tides turned. Successive military regimes began to erase us. In 1982, Myanmar passed a law that excluded the Rohingya from citizenship, declaring us “foreigners” in the very land where our ancestors are buried. Our identity was stripped away. We were banned from schools, denied healthcare, restricted from travel, and forced to register under false ethnic names. Then came the violence. In 2012, deadly riots broke out. In 2016 and again in 2017, Myanmar’s military launched brutal crackdowns — what the UN called a “textbook example of ethnic cleansing.” Entire villages were burned. Men were killed. Women were raped. Children were thrown into fires. I survived. Many of my friends and relatives did not. I fled to Bangladesh, like nearly a million others. Today, I live as a refugee — in overcrowded camps where hope is scarce but resistance lives on. I am not just a victim. I am a voice. I am a witness. I am a Rohingya youth activist who believes that our story must be told — not just as a story of suffering, but of survival. We are not stateless by choice. We are stateless because our rights were stolen. But we still dream — of justice, of dignity, of going home with our heads held high. Thank you for allowing me to share this. May our voices echo far enough to shake the silence. — Muhammad Jubair A Rohingya refugee, youth activist, and survivor

June 10, 2025June 10, 2025

My Neighbor, My Friend – A Story of Real Solidarity By: Sharuk Mohammedi (Age: 17).

I am a refugee. Behind those words is a history of displacement, survival, and strength. I didn’t choose to leave my homeland, but I had no choice. Like so many others, I crossed borders not just of geography but of identity—leaving behind familiarity for uncertainty. Yet, in the middle of that uncertainty, I found something powerful: the solidarity of neighbors who became friends. When my family arrived in Cox’s Bazar, we expected to be treated like strangers. Instead, we were met with a surprising sense of familiarity. The people in the host community spoke a language that sounded like home. Their words were not foreign. Their expressions, their customs, even their food reminded me of the village life we left behind. This closeness in culture helped bridge the gaps between us long before official programs or organizations stepped in. But even with this shared language and culture, there were still invisible barriers—barriers of fear, misunderstanding, and mistrust. Many of us Rohingya feared being judged, and many locals feared being overwhelmed by our presence. We had all suffered in our own ways. Yet slowly, that began to change—not through policies or press releases, but through the quiet strength of human connection. I remember one day in the early months after we arrived. It had rained heavily, and our shelter had started leaking. As we struggled to save our bedding, a local family from the nearby village came with tarpaulin and offered to help. They didn’t ask questions. They didn’t hesitate. They simply saw neighbors in need and responded with action. That was the first time I truly understood what solidarity looks like. Solidarity is not just about giving—it’s about standing together. It means recognizing the dignity in one another, regardless of our status. It means sitting together in classrooms, working side by side in the fields, and sharing moments of joy and grief as equals. Now, I am growing up in this camp—not just surviving, but learning. I study hard and dream of a better future, not only for myself but for everyone who has suffered like I have. I may not have many opportunities, but I try to take every one that comes. I help other students when I can, and I listen to the stories of people around me. I believe our voices matter. And I carry with me the lessons I’ve learned from those who reached out to us—not as outsiders, but as part of one shared community. The theme “My Neighbor, My Friend” is more than just a phrase to me. It is a lived reality. I’ve seen young people from both the refugee and host communities play football together, share meals during Ramadan, and sit under the same roof to learn and dream. These are not just acts of kindness—they are acts of resistance against the forces that want to divide us. Being a refugee does not erase my identity. I am still someone’s son, someone’s classmate, someone’s friend. And while I have lost my home, I have not lost my humanity. It is the solidarity of others—neighbors who didn’t turn away—that reminded me of that truth. There is still a long way to go. Challenges remain—poverty, limited resources, and social tensions can sometimes test our unity. But I believe that the bonds we build now, at this grassroots level, are the foundation for something greater: a future where no one is left behind simply because they had to flee. To those reading this, whether you’re a refugee like me or a host community youth: solidarity is something we all can practice. It doesn’t always require money or power. Sometimes, it simply takes the courage to listen, to respect, and to walk beside someone whose journey is different from your own. Because in the end, true friendship isn’t defined by where you were born. It’s defined by how you treat those around you. And sometimes, the most meaningful friendships begin in the most difficult places. My neighbor became my friend. And through that friendship, I found the strength to keep going.

Yasin

June 10, 2025June 10, 2025

A story of hope.

Struggle To Strength My Journey to Hope.

This is Abdur Rahim from the largest refugee camp in Bangladesh I would like to share my story and my hope.I was born in Myanmar, a land once filled with the sounds of my childhood laughter and dreams. But as I grew up, those dreams were tested by the harsh realities that came with being Rohingya a people stripped of their rights, homes, and voices. My early memories are a mix of beauty and fear. Beauty in my family’s love, in our traditions, and in the simple moments of peace. But fear soon took hold fear of persecution, violence, and a future that seemed more uncertain with each passing day. When I was still very young, my family and I were forced to flee Myanmar. We left everything behind our home, our land, and the graves of our ancestors seeking safety across the border in Bangladesh. We arrived not as guests, but as refugees, carrying only our faith, resilience, and the hope of a better tomorrow. Life in the refugee camp has never been easy. But it has shaped who I am. It taught me the value of education, the power of service, and the importance of standing tall, even when the world tries to make you invisible. Despite the odds, I have pursued learning with determination. I now study at BRAC University under the Rohingya Higher Education Access Program (RhEAP), and I teach community children as a volunteer because I believe that education is our most powerful tool for change. Alongside my studies, I took the role of a community-based teacher, voluntarily educating children in the camp who otherwise would have no access to structured learning. This work is my way of giving back and nurturing hope among the next generation. I have also engaged in leadership workshops, debate competitions, and field research with humanitarian organizations such as Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF). In 2024, I received an Award of Excellence from NAMLAS and attended the OSUN Virtual Student Leadership Conference, experiences that deepened my commitment to justice, peace, and education. I am a stateless person. But I am not voiceless. I dream of pursuing higher education in Australia, studying peace and law, and becoming a voice for the voiceless advocating for the rights and dignity of my people. I want the world to see us not only as victims, but as survivors, learners, and leaders. I carry with me the pain of displacement, but also the strength of my people. I am proud to be Rohingya, and I am committed to building a future where no child has to flee their home, and where every voice no matter how small is heard. This is my story. A story of survival, resilience, and unwavering hope.

June 9, 2025June 9, 2025

A story of survival by Amin Mustafa, a Rohigya refugee living in the Bangladesh refugee camp.

On May 21, 2022, at around 6:30 in the morning, a tragedy unfolded off the coast of Myanmar’s Ayeyarwady Region—one that was barely heard by the world, yet deeply etched into the lives of those who lived through it. I am Amin Mustafa, a Rohingya survivor, and I carry the weight of that day not just in memory, but in responsibility—to speak the truth for the 49 souls we lost, including children. We were 90 people aboard a boat that set out with hope. Hope to escape persecution, poverty, and the suffocating limits placed on our lives as Rohingya. Among us were men, women, and children. Some were seeking freedom. Others just a future. The journey was dangerous from the start, but desperation pushed us forward. We had left Sittwe and made our way along the coast. But as we neared the Ayeyarwady delta, harsh weather overtook us. The boat capsized at 6:30 a.m. Chaos. Screams. Darkness in daylight. Some clung to the wreckage. Others were swept away by the river’s force. We—31 of us—survived by swimming for 15 hours. I fought the water, exhaustion, and fear for my life until I finally reached safety. Many others weren’t so lucky. The ocean claimed the lives of 49 people, including many children. Their dreams, their futures, their families—all lost to the waves. And yet, the suffering didn’t stop there. When we were rescued, instead of being helped or treated with dignity, the Myanmar authorities arrested us. We, the survivors of a deadly boat disaster, were sentenced to two years in Pathein Prison—punished simply for being Rohingya, for trying to survive. And the world was silent. No headlines spoke of our 15-hour battle in the river. No reports honoured the children who died. No human rights voice condemned the prison time we endured. The truth was buried with those we lost. We were not just numbers. We were families. We were students, mothers, fathers, dreamers—human beings. This wasn’t just an accident. It was the result of decades of oppression. A system that sees Rohingya lives as unworthy. A system that drives us into the sea and then locks us in prison when we survive. To the families of those who died that morning: I will never forget. I speak for them now. To the world: hear our story. Believe our pain. Share our truth.

_______________________________________________________________

A suicide note of a little fifth-grade girl (at IDP camp in Myanmar)

“Dear Mommy, please be happy when I’m gone. I apologizes for causing you trouble by being here. Because I wanted to go to school, and you got to buy those things. There’s no money left, so you could’t buy anythings for me.

Dear Big Brother, my very beloved brother, thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me, your little sister. Please let me go the right way, brother. Let me say goodbye to Mom and Dad. I can’t stay in this life anymore.

Dear Friends, please tell my teachers I’m grateful for teaching me. If I were still there, I wouldn’t forget to thank them.

Dear Htwar Re, whom I treated like a brother, please forgive the wrong things I said. I can’t say it now, I have to write it. Brother, no one will let your little sister go to school anymore. Your little sister is very tired now.

Mom, your daughter is leaving now. I pray that Dad won’t be harsh like before. Love family.”

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1BwvDR2gJK/?mibextid=wwXIfr

June 5, 2025

Flooding in the Bangladesh Refugee Camp

Every year refugees are faced with extreme flooding in the camps. This year has been exceptionally bad with many shelters destroyed and people left destitute. Added to this, UNHCR has cut funding so food is in short supply and local teachers who were employed to teach in the camps schools have been dismissed.

April 1, 2025

While people in Myanmar are suffering from the earthquake, Min Aung Hlaing and his criminal gang are doing the only thing they know — abusing, exploiting, and destroying.

– Bombing the Survivors:

Even in the middle of a disaster, the junta continues bombing. Before, during, and after the quake. No pause. No humanity in their souls.

– No Hospitals, No Doctors:

Over 20 hospitals were shut down because the junta targeted CDM doctors. They hunted, harassed, and looted from them. Now, with no doctors and no hospitals, the wounded are left on the streets under blazing hot sun.

– Forced Recruitment:

Morning conscription continues. Young men are abducted seized and forced to die serving the military for his greed and power.

– Cutting off Communications:

Survivors are struggling to get help because the junta blocks the internet and causes VPN issues. They don’t want the world to see the truth.

– No International Media:

The junta tries to keep journalists out of the country to prevent accurate unbiased coverage of the disaster, blocking any chance of exposing the real situation.

– Pretending to be a Government:

They beg for international aid like a legitimate government. Once they get it? They will no doubt hoard it, sell it on the black market, and pocket the profits from currency exchange loop hole – as they have done before.

– Resources for Themselves:

Past experience shows that every resource goes to areas controlled by the junta. The people? They are not the junta’s priority.

– Stolen Funds:

The disaster relief funds from the NLD era? Gone. The junta claims they’re for “national development,” but the junta isn’t developing anything to benefit the people.

– Blocking Punishing Opposition Help: Opposition groups and ethnic organizations, who are often the first to respond in crises, wereare arrested and imprisoned for helping their own people by the previous military junta.

– Blocking Help:

People are still trapped, dying under the rubble, while Min Aung Hlaing refuses to let help in. Taiwan offered to send rescue teams but the junta rejected it. The junta blocks the roads from preventing anyone trying to help from arriving. By night, junta curfews block rescue attempts.

– The Stench of Death: Entire towns reek of death. Families can’t even retrieve their loved ones. The junta doesn’t care. and still blocks the roads from anyone trying to help.

This is the man ASEAN and world leaders choose to meet with. Every handshake with this criminal and his cronies puppets is a betrayal of the people suffering under his brutal oppression. Stop giving him the legitimacy he craves. He isn’t a leader. He’s untrustworthy and pure evil.

Author’s name removed for security reasons.

March 14, 2025March 14, 2025

Rohingya refugees long for their homeland.

Despite the risks, every Rohingya longs to return to their homeland.

At today’s iftar gathering in the Rohingya camp, organized by the Chief Adviser, the oppressed people expelled from Arakan State made this heartfelt appeal to UN Secretary-General António Guterres.~ Juhar Khan

Safe Zones.

Due to the overcrowding in the Bangladesh refugee camps, there has been a lot of talk about safe zones in Myanmar for the Rohingya.

First, let us keep in mind the overriding cause of the conflicts in Myanmar, a country where successive governments have been gradually ethnic cleansing the population in order to restore the nation to a solely Buddhist state.

The Rohingya are understandably eager to return to their homeland and safe zones have been proposed as a means of protection, but are they a good idea?

Safe zones have not been shown to be very effective as a means of saving lives. Take the example of Palestine where Israel has struck safe zones hundreds of times and where people have faced death, massive injuries and/or starvation.

So-called “safe zones” pose an increasingly pressing threat to genuine and legitimate protection for refugees fleeing conflict. Safe zones are not for safety, the are to prevent the flow of migration to neighbouring countries during times of war. Safe zones can be used to circumvent the obligations of states receiving refugees and displaced persons required under international law. In particular, safe zones prevent the right to leave a place of danger and to seek asylum elsewhere. In terms of international law, safe zones violate the prohibition on refoulement (the law against returning refugees to a place of danger).

Safe zones, due to their volatility cannot protect refugees in the manner specified under humanitarian and international laws. To be succinct, safe zones cannot be a substitute for refugee protection and the obligations of individual states to meet the needs of refugees entering their territory.

Safe zones are not a new idea and in theory they are said to have the ability to protect refugees and deliver services needed for people fleeing conflicts, but in reality, safe zones are a methodology for states to abrogate their responsibilities to needy refugees

Due to the number of armed conflicts around the world and the continuing flow of refugees, a number of countries are considering safe zones. However, safe zones, if they are to remain safe, require the cooperation of warring parties. Not only are safe zones unreliable for meeting the needs of refugees, they pose considerable danger to a people experiencing genocide. Indeed, genocide becomes much easier and less noticeable because the refugees are confined.

Safe zones are not a suitable option to a growing refugee problem. They violate the rights of refugees to seek protection elsewhere, they prevent protection from the hostilities a civilian population. Safe zones are at the mercy of unstable and volatile governments and their armed forces. They make the delivery of services, including food and medicines more difficult. For this and other reasons the United Nations Security council have not authorised safe zones since the 1990s.

Safe zones require consent from all parties and if consent is not given with good intent, safe zones pose a further risk of hostilities towards people who are already perceived to be the enemy. There is no freedom and no security in a safe zone for the Rohingya..

Comment

January 18, 2025

The international community must intervene in this brutality against the Rohingya people.

A leaked video has surfaced, exposing the horrifying actions of the Rakhine rebel group, the Arakan Army (AA), engaging in acts that blatantly violate international laws, national laws, and basic human rights. The footage serves as a chilling example of the atrocities committed by the Arakan Army against the Rohingya people, including their active participation in mass killings in Maungdaw and Buthidaung.

The video highlights the brutal reality of life for many Rohingya under the control of the Rakhine rebels. Victims face abduction, forced labor, physical abuse, and psychological torment, as the group continues to target and oppress innocent civilians. Entire communities have been displaced, their homes burned, and families torn apart due to the relentless violence orchestrated by the Arakan Army.

These inhumane actions underscore the ongoing plight of the Rohingya people, who have endured decades of systemic discrimination, violence, and neglect. The international community must urgently intervene to hold the perpetrators accountable, ensure justice for the victims, and protect those who continue to suffer under the control of the Arakan Army.

Re-posted from Facebook.

January 18, 2025

December 2024. Maung daw township Myanmar. The face of genocide.

These images are here to help the Rohingya people, who are currently resident in the Bangladesh refugee camps, to identify possible relatives. As for the general public. Take a look at the ugly face of genocide, which is still happening because no western country will make a stand against the monsters who are carrying out these heinous crimes. I have tried to avoid showing the severed limbs and other serious injuries simply because all people deserve some level of dignity.