A Rohingya youth’s ordeal in the Myanmar military

Abul Kalam, a young Rohingya man, has revealed the harrowing details of his forced recruitment into the Myanmar military. His testimony offers a rare glimpse into the brutal tactics employed by the junta, the enduring discrimination faced by Rohingya recruits, and the devastating impact of conflict on his family and community.

A community caught in conflict

The year 2024 witnessed a dramatic escalation of conflict in Myanmar’s Rakhine State. Intense fighting between the Myanmar military and the Arakan Army (AA)—an ethnic armed group representing the Rakhine people—has transformed the region into a battlefield. The AA’s significant territorial gains along the Bangladesh border have put the Myanmar military on the defensive, triggering relentless airstrikes and ground assaults that have left large numbers of civilians dead and tens of thousands displaced. 

In this turmoil, the Rohingya population has been doubly victimised, caught in the crossfire, and exploited by multiple sides. Thousands of Rohingya men and boys, including Kalam, were conscripted under threats, coercion, and false promises of citizenship. Simultaneously, Rohingya armed groups have recruited individuals from refugee camps in Bangladesh, smuggling them back into Rakhine State to fight for the military against the AA. This web of forced recruitment has not only endangered countless lives but has also exacerbated tensions between the Rohingya and other ethnic communities, particularly the Rakhine.

Kalam’s story sheds light on the harsh realities faced by forcibly recruited Rohingya combatants, often referred to as the “Rohingya Military,” and the personal toll of the conflict on his life.

A family torn apart

Kalam comes from a farming family in Myanmar. His father cultivated paddy, vegetables, and betel leaves. He provided a modest livelihood for their family of 10. Their lives, however, were irreparably changed during the conflict.

“One day, in June of 2024, while we were eating together, a bomb struck my brother’s father-in-law’s house, where we had taken shelter because of the war,” Kalam recounted. The explosion killed his mother and five other family members, including his brother's mother-in-law, two brothers-in-law, and his sister-in-law and her husband.

Six others, including Kalam’s father, youngest brother, and two nieces, were severely injured. “My father was hit by bomb fragments, my youngest brother injured his leg, and one of my nieces lost a finger,” he said. 

Coercion and broken promises

Kalam’s forced recruitment into the Myanmar military began with threats. “They told us, ‘Your houses will be burned to ashes, your brothers will be abducted, and your parents will be killed if you don’t join us,’” he recounted. Kalam was taken on March 13th and stayed with the military for just over three months. 

The junta promised recruits citizenship and better opportunities, but these pledges proved empty. “No progress was made toward citizenship,” Kalam said. “They only recorded our village names and our education levels, giving us false hope.” A total of 41 young men were recruited from his village under similar circumstances, leaving families devastated and the community torn apart. The promises offered to soften the blow—citizenship, freedom of movement, and promotions in military ranks—proved hollow.

Life as a Rohingya soldier

During his time with the military, Kalam participated in three battles, including in his own village of Moricha Bil. “We were poorly trained, with only two weeks of rudimentary weapons practice,” Kalam explained. “The military soldiers undergo six months of rigorous training. They learn how to assemble, disassemble, and operate various weapons,” he continued. “We barely learned how to disassemble rifles.”

“They didn’t recruit us to protect the country. They used us as human shields on the frontlines,” Kalam said. “Another goal was to incite hatred between the Mogh (Rakhine people) and us.” 

Perhaps the most painful aspect of his experience was being ordered to act against people from neighbouring communities. “We were instructed to seize goods from the Rakhine if they didn’t give us something willingly,” Kalam said. “If anyone didn’t have their ID cards, we had to arrest them or stop them.” These orders sowed deeper mistrust and animosity between the Rohingya and other ethnic groups living in the area, a divide the military seemed intent on exploiting.

When asked to explain how they were used as human shields, Kalam replied, "One example is during transfers. There were two military camps. One in our village and another in Moricha Bil. We were transferred between the two camps once a week. During these transfers, if there were five personnel in their team, we had to have ten. We were positioned so that five of us were in the front and five in the back, while the Burmese military personnel were in the middle. Additionally, we could only shoot if they gave us permission.” 

The discrimination Kalam endured as a Rohingya soldier was glaring. “If the Burmese soldiers were assigned one hour of guard duty, we were assigned three,” he revealed. Rohingya recruits were also required to report every bullet they fired, while Burmese soldiers faced no such scrutiny. Even their meals were inferior, highlighting their second-class status within the military.

Kalam also noted that injured Rohingya soldiers received minimal medical care. “Those with severe injuries were sent to a small clinic and given only basic medication,” he explained. “Some died, while others survived with the limited care available. If recovery wasn’t possible, they were left to endure their injuries.”

Kalam’s time with the military was marked by relentless hardship and danger. When the Arakan Army began deploying drones, the military was forced to abandon the 353 Battalion headquarters and retreat. “The drones were operated by computers, not humans, making it impossible to win,” he explained. During this chaotic retreat, after three months and two days with the military, Kalam seized the opportunity to escape. He and others sought refuge in the Naaraing mountains. Kalam remained in the mountains for 41 days, living under dire conditions. “Some days we ate, and other days we starved. We only ate if we could find food,” he said.

Dreams interrupted

Before the war, Kalam was a student at Nachidauk High School and had completed Class 9. “My dream was to complete my education, start a business, and become a teacher,” he said. Those dreams were shattered by his forced recruitment.

Kalam eventually fled to Bangladesh. His brother provided financial support, and they coordinated through voice recordings sent via a WhatsApp group. “We crossed the border during Fajr prayers to avoid detection by the Bangladesh border guards,” he said.

Kalam’s role in the military exposed him to unimaginable horrors. “During battles, I saw people losing their limbs, heads, and other parts of their bodies,” he said. “It was horrifying and has left me deeply traumatised.”

Kalam’s story is a poignant reminder of the systemic exploitation of the Rohingya community. His experience highlights the physical and emotional toll of forced recruitment and the broader dynamics of oppression faced by Rohingya in Myanmar. “The world needs to know what’s happening to us,” Kalam said. “We are being used, abused, and forgotten.”