anuwarsadek493 Autobiography

Autobiography of Robi Alam


Name: Robi Alam
Date of Birth: 01 August 2003
Place of Birth: Dabinshara Village, Buthidaung Township, Arakan State, Myanmar
Religion: Islam

Early Life and Family

My name is Robi Alam. My father’s name is Noor Alam, and my mother’s name is Lalu. I was born into a humble and soft-spoken family in the northern part of Buthidaung Township, Arakan State, Myanmar. I am the eldest among ten siblings.

My father was a team leader of workers and also managed a small shop in our village, while my mother was a housewife. My childhood was simple. I enjoyed playing different games with my friends, especially football, which remains my favorite.

Education and Refugee Life

I began my education at the kindergarten primary school in my village. I was always curious, disciplined, and eager to learn new things. However, my life changed drastically in 2017, when violence against the Rohingya community forced my family to flee Myanmar and take refuge in Bangladesh.

When we first arrived in Bangladesh, a kind man welcomed us with food. That was the moment I realized I had become a “refugee.” Despite this painful reality, I did not lose hope.

In the refugee camp, I continued my studies. From Grade 1 to 5, I studied under Mr. Md Shomin, who also taught me Rohingya language and culture. In 2019, I enrolled at Life Destination High School, where I am now studying in Class 10 with honesty and dedication.

Career and Achievements

Alongside my studies, I pursued opportunities to build my skills. I applied to an INGO called FIVDB and, after an interview, was selected as a teacher. This experience allowed me to contribute to my community by teaching younger children.

In 2022, I participated in a competition organized by CODEC INGO, where I proudly achieved first position among all schools in Camp 06.

Challenges and Struggles

My journey has been marked by great hardship. As a Rohingya, I have faced persecution and discrimination in Myanmar.

On 10 October 2016, while I was in school, the military suddenly arrived and forced us out. Soon after, they burned houses in a nearby village (ဘုန်းတော်ပြင်) and killed many innocent people.

On 25 August 2017, the genocide against my people escalated. Soldiers began killing, raping, and burning houses. I remember a man in my village who was beaten simply for going out to catch fish after 9:00 pm. Terrified, my family and I searched for safety but found none, and finally, with tears and fear, we fled across the border into Bangladesh.

Hope

Today, I live in the world’s largest refugee camp in Bangladesh. Despite the challenges, I remain determined to pursue higher education and to work for a brighter future. My dream is to inspire other Rohingya students never to give up, no matter how difficult life becomes.

Education is my path to freedom, dignity, and hope. I believe it is not just for me, but for all. I will continue to strive with honesty, discipline, and faith to make a positive impact on the world.

Robi Alam, a Grade-10 student from Life Destination High School, begins to write his autobiography and others related true stories after gaining a productive training called “Beginners Writing’s Workshop.”

anuwarsadek493 Article

Eight Years On: The Voices of  Rohingya for Justice and Dignity Still Remain Unheard By the World

Words by Anuwar Sadek

Photos by Ayub Khan Dkl

Photo captured by Ayub Khan Dkl during Rohingya young students are demanding the protection from the international bodies

The denial of the Myanmar government has left the Rohingya people deeply concerned as they mark the 8th anniversary of the 2017 atrocities, still holding on to the hope of a dignified return to their ancestral homeland.

Since the country’s independence in 1948, the Myanmar government has systematically excluded the Rohingya from their ancestral lands, stripping them of rights and recognition. Over decades of gradual persecution and orchestrated violence, more than one million innocent Rohingya civilians were forced to flee into neighboring Bangladesh. How can a person survive without land, peace, and dignity? For the Rohingya, 25 August 2017 stands as a dark milestone, the day everything they owned and cherished was destroyed.

Despite living in disorderly, overcrowded refugee camps made of mud and tarpaulin shelters in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, the Rohingya community has not remained silent. They continue to raise their voices for justice and equal rights that were unjustly stolen by Myanmar Government.

“We will never stop raising our voices until our rights are restored,” said Sarwah Shah, 22, a Rohingya youth. “We will never let the Myanmar government or the Arakan Army take advantage of our people and our motherland, Arakan State.”

Eight years have passed, yet the international community has failed to bring justice. Mohammed Ayub, 32, a Rohingya activist, reflected:


“Behind every 25 August lies a drop of tears and heartbreak. It reminds us of our sisters being raped, our children thrown into fire, and our homes burnt by the Myanmar military.”

Photo captured by Ayub Khan Dkl, showing
Rohingya survivors in tears as they prayed on stage during the 8th Anniversary of Rohingya Genocide Rememberance Day


Ayub also added that to delay justice is not only to ignore genocide but also to silently support the perpetrators in their crimes.


At the same time, the Arakan Army (AA), a Rakhine rebel group has become another source of suffering for the Rohingya, falling like a sudden stone from the sky. While their stated aim is to challenge the Myanmar military, their violence has heavily targeted on innocent Rohingya civilians. Torture, rape, killings, looting, and land seizures have become widespread.


Anuwar Faisal, a private teacher who fled to Bangladesh in 2024, described that the year ” 2024 ” is the worst period in recent memory of Arakan State.


“The Arakan Army conscripted our youths to use them as human shields on the frontlines. They killed more than 5,000 civilians with drone attacks. It was unforgettable.”

For decades, Rohingya Muslims have been denied citizenship by the Myanmar government, effectively confering them stateless. The continued delay in addressing this crisis by the international community only strengthens the hands of the perpetrators and deepens the suffering of the victims.

The Rohingya community urges that silence is no longer an option. The international community must act decisively to end impunity, restore rights, and ensure a just and dignified return for one of the world’s most persecuted peoples like Rohingya.

anuwarsadek493 Autobiography

Autobiography of Mohammed Salim

My name is Muhammad Salim, son of Jahid Hussain and Rajuma Khatun and I am an 18 years old. According to the UNHCR Data based record, there are 12 members in my family. I am the youngest one. I grew up in the Laung Dong Kyung Gaung village ( လောင်းဒုံးကျွန်းဂေါင်းရွာ ), in the northern part of Maung Daw township, Arakan state, Myanmar. However, I have been living as a refugee about eight years in the world’s largest refugee camp in Bangladesh.

Early Life and Education

I was born into a Rohingya family in Myanmar, where our community has long been marginalized and persecuted. My father was a legendary tailor, well known both in voluminous Boli Bazaar and my village while my mother was a dedicated housewife. As a boy, I spent my days playing with my childhood friends, building small shelters with pieces of bamboo and cane, and torn tarpaulin, and enjoying all kinds of games.

However, I was curious, disciplined child and loved learning. I attended kindergarten at Kyung Gaung Primary School in Myanmar. Unfortunately, in 2017, I was forced to flee my homeland with my family after a horrific attack on Rohingya Muslims by the Myanmar Militaries. Arriving in Bangladesh gave me a miserable identity “Refugee” but I have not lose hope. I still carry a big dream in my heart.

At first, my elder brother, Mr Ruhul Amin, taught me from Grade-1 to Grade-8 at my shelter located in Camp-6, Kutupalong. His teaching techniques are truly astonishing. Later, I continued my learning journey in a private organization called ” Mercy Refugee House” funded by Mr Joseph Namin. After studying there for almost 2 years, I enrolled at Life Destination High School in Grade-9. Since 2023, my dream has been moving forward, and soaring like a flower in bloom and emitting the flames brightly to reach achievement one day.

Career and Achievements

In my educational journey, I have been facing with the harsh reality of limited opportunities for Rohingya students in both Myanmar and Rohingya refugee camp. In 2023, through sheer determination and hard work, I secured 2nd position from all of the camps in Cox’s Bazaar, Bangladesh in an “Essay and Letter Writing Competition” organized by Rohingya Youth Initiative-RYI.

Furthermore, by the grace of almighty Allah, I secured first position in Grade-10 at Life Destination High School, as well as being first overall among all students (တစ်ကျောင်းလုံး ပထမ) in the academic year 2024-2025. And also I secured first position in the “Mercy” school. Similarly, I secured first in my all grades. I am excited about my future and look forward to achieving even greater success in my academic pursuits.

Challenges and Struggles

In my mother land, Myanmar, the challenges I faced that put my life and well-being at risk and was subjected to persecution and discrimination by the Myanmar governments and forced to flee to the bordering country, Bangladesh in search of safety and security.

On 10th October 2016, when I was going to school in Myanmar, a sudden military team, facing me directly and asked me stubbornly and ferociously “Does your father involve in any related armed group?” I was shocked and replied with mega confidence “No”. Then, they continued in searching innocent Rohingya in my village to accuse them armed. I overheard that they were shooting into my village on and on and again and again too.

On 25th August 2017, the genocide committed against Rohingya Muslims, Arakan State, northern part of Myanmar. The world described it as a “textbook example of ethnic cleansing”  was a systematic campaign of violence and persecution. These included mass killings, rape, torture, and the burning of villages. Countless men, women, and children were brutally murdered, while I and my family were forced to flee our home and seek refuge in neighboring country, Bangladesh.

Final hope

Striving for higher education for Rohingya students is not an easy task. All the opportunities of the further education have no keys to open but I remain focused on my goals and working tirelessly to achieve till reaching it. My story serves as a testament to resilience and determination of the Rohinhya community, who continue to grab for a better future despite the odds stacked against them.

I expect that my academic journey inspires other Rohinhya students to never give up on their dreams and to always keep fighting for a brighter future.

Finally, my journey as a Rohinhya student has been filled with ups and downs, and challenges and triumphs. Despite the obstacles I have faced, I remain committed to using my education to make a positive impact on the world. I will continue to work towards achieving my goals, advocating for justice, and equality for all.

“Mohammed Salim is one of the most dedicated and talented students in our school. His focus is to pen out in writing the other contents and also his own autobiography. “

anuwarsadek493 Short Story

“How the Buzz of Mosquitoes Followed a Rohingya Boy Fleeing Burmese Militaries’ Gunshots “

Words by Anuwar Sadek and Sayedul Amin

Photo: Anuwar Sadek

My name is Sayedul Amin, son of Kamal Hossain and Noor Foraz. I am 17 years old and one of nine members in my family. I was a student in Kyet Yoe Pyin (ကြက်ရိုးပြင်), Northern Maungdaw Township, Arakan State, Myanmar. Life was simple and peaceful, closely tied to nature. I was in grade 2 when I was still in Myanmar. Though our life was small, our hopes were big.

But how could we ever imagine that we would be forced to search for safety from a land that had suddenly become a graveyard, destroyed by the brutal operations of the Burmese military?

On 11 October 2016, my life changed forever when the junta began its campaign of discrimination and violence. It all started on 9 October, when an armed operation began moving from Hawarbil village (ကျီးကန်ပြင်) toward our village, Kyet Yoe Pyin. On that day, some of my neighbors were killed by gunfire, young and old, without distinction. Others were taken by Burmese soldiers, and to this day, there is no news of them. Tears became our closest companion. Fear flowed like a stream. Our land became venomous, yet hope still lived in our hearts.

On 12 October 2016, we made the painful decision to leave our home. I felt like a motherless child. “Where will we go?” my father asked through tears. No one wanted to leave, but we had no choice. We left behind everything—our belongings, our memories with carrying only fear in our hearts and a faint hope for survival.

That night, we reached a house not far from our village. We spent the whole night hearing gunfire, like rain falling on our fears and the mosquitoes were only night guards. The next morning, the military began going door to door. We hid in silence. The soldiers shouted, “Where are you? Come fight us!” Our hearts felt like they were breaking into pieces, like a landslide falling into sand. We silently wept. Everyone prayed, “Oh Allah, Oh Allah.” After about an hour, the soldiers moved to another home. As soon as they left, we escaped.

Behind us, houses began to burn. Nearly 1,500 homes were destroyed in our village, including the market. We moved from village to village, desperately searching for safety. Gunfire echoed from the north. Everyone took shelter in the paddy fields and under the open sky. As we ran, the cries of the people and the sounds of bullets followed us.

A small stream with a strong current blocked our path. In the grief struck like an earthquake, I lost sight of my parents and other family members. I didn’t know how to swim. My heart broke again. Luckily, a villager heard my cries and helped me cross.

On 15 October 2016, I reached Kya Gon Ton village (ကျားခေါင်းတောင်ရွာ), where by some miracle, I found my family again. But the villagers there were also filled with fear and sorrow. My father, crying as he hugged me, said, “This is the end of my life.” One of my uncles suggested us to ahead to the mountains for safety. But soon, another idea gave us more hope, “It’s better to move to Bangladesh.” He added.

So we began our journey. Along the way, we were hungry, exhausted, and afraid. When we finally reached the border, gunfire broke out again. We were forced to stay one night near the border. That night, grass became our bed, leaves became our food, and melted dew became our water. Mosquitoes were our only companions and their relentless buzzing kept us awake. Many people died that night. I thought: “This stream is their grave, and the fish are now their friends.”

At dawn, we crossed the border into Bangladesh, paying 25,000 MMK per person with the money my parents had saved back home. On 22 October 2016, we reached our final destination: the Rohingya refugee camp in Bangladesh.

Now, I live as a refugee without home, land, or happiness. I am like a fish without water. A baby without a mother. A bird without a nest and the shelter I sleep in at night is full of mosquitoes and doesn’t allow me a peaceful sleep. I don’t have access to higher education. Sadness is my closest friend in the camp. Yet despite everything, I continue my studies. I currently study in grade 9 at Life Destination High School in Camp 6. I am trying to build a better future, InshAllah (God willing).

My final request to the world is this: Please open your eyes to the Rohingya crisis. Bring us justice. And ensure that Rohingya children like me—have the chance to access higher education.

Note:

Sayedul Amin, a grade 9 students, begins sharing his life struggle through his pen after receiving the recent Beginning Writers’ Workshop organized by Life Destination High School.

anuwarsadek493 Short Story

“From Burned Villages to Un Imaginable Dreams: The Story of Abul Kayes, a Rohingya Refugee Who Turned Trauma into Triumph, Yet Faces an Uncertain Future”

Words by Anuwar Sadek and Abul Kayas

Photo: Anuwar Sadek

My name is Abul Kayes, and I was born on July 2, 2002, in a village called Yea Mea Toung, nestled in the green hills of Northern Maungdaw, in Arakan State, Myanmar. My family is big with my parents, four brothers, eight sisters, and me. We lived a life of simplicity and closeness, where love was stronger than hardship. My father, Nur Korim, now 73, is a man of deep thought and quiet strength. My mother, Sara Khatun, now 48, is the heart of our home, resilient, selfless, and full of courage.

Our village was more than a place. It was a world. I remember waking up to the sounds of birds and the smell of fresh rain within the romantic scene as I felt like a prince in a kingdom made of bamboo, sunlight, and family.


But on 25 August 2017, when I was just 15, everything changed. The sound of gunfire from the Burmese military thundered over the skies like crashing icebergs, shattering the calm and scattering our world into trauma. I remember the fear before I understood the reason. Rumors of violence spread like wildfire: soldiers were coming. Villages were burning. People were disappearing. And then, it came to us. That night, none of us could sleep. All of my parents’ remaining belongings including jewelry were buried under the ground for safety. My mother held onto 500,000 MMK, but it didn’t last. Some of it was spent during our escape, and the rest was given to the poor as an act of generosity even in hardship. My father quickly reached out to his brother, Habib Ullah, who supported us by sending 100,000 MMK after selling fish from my  father’s lagoon.

One night, under a moonless sky, we packed whatever we could carry that were some rice, clothes, and food. Before leaving, we fed our cows and pets, hoping they’d survive without us. But they didn’t touch the food. They seemed to know. We cried as we walked away from everything we had ever known.

On 27 Aug 2017, we made our way  to Kyet Yoe Pyin ( ကြက်ရိုးပြင် ) where one of my sisters lived. Her family joined our escape. Along the way, we lost Jesmin, my sister, in the chaos. She had run ahead. It took hours to find her in a nearby village. By then, our home had burned to ash.

We moved another village called Kiyan Bong where we took shelter but sometimes we needed to sleep beside the village, in the paddy fields and hidden inside the bushes because the fear of Militaries’ gunshots didn’t allow to stay at proper place or sleep. My mother had cooked Qurbani meat for Eid just the day before we fled. “It is our last proper meal as a family.” My mother said with tear.


We again reached Shil Khali village. I remember carrying 2–3 kilograms of rice and the last 2,000 kyat we had. I bought onions and chilies from a nearby shop. Jesmin made a thin soup that warmed our empty stomachs and tired souls.

On 3 Sep 2017, we crossed the Naf River into Bangladesh, but a new challenge awaited us. The boats were too small to carry our entire family together, so I and one of my brothers boarded one boat, while the rest of our family, including my parents, were placed on another.

During the crossing, the crew on our boat took everything we had important documents, supplies, and personal belongings. It was a cruel moment when we were already at our most vulnerable. Thankfully, the rest of the family had managed to carry 100,000 MMK which my Uncle sent to my parents and paid the fare for their boat.

We arrived on the other side with exhausted, broken, and afraid hearts. But then something unexpected happened. The Bangladeshi people welcomed us with kindness. They gave us water, food, and shelter. For the first time in weeks, we felt the warmth of human compassion again.

Jesmin got lost once more in Hansur Para, a village in Bangladesh, waiting on the roadside. When we finally found her, we smiled. It was the first smile I’d seen on my parents’ faces since we left Myanmar. We stayed there for three days, then moved to Kutupalong Refugee Camp in Cox’s Bazar, now the largest refugee settlement in the world. My eldest sister’s husband paid the 2,500Tk for our transport. It wasn’t easy, but we were safe.

My parents, even in their grief, encouraged me to keep studying. I enrolled in informal classes and managed to complete Class 10 while living in the camp. It was not just about education and it was survival. Learning became my rebellion.

My mother, with almost nothing, found ways to support me. She sold lentils, rice, and potatoes, earning barely 500 taka a month, just enough for pens and notebooks. Her hands were worn, but her faith was unshaken. ” You don’t need to be afraid of your study is being lost till I am alive.” She encouraged me

I also studied Arabic and Urdu on my own. I wanted to speak with dignity, to write with power. Every new word I learned felt like reclaiming something the world tried to take from us.

When I was 16, I met a man named Soyed Korim. He told me to write a CV, a simple piece of paper that would change my life. I applied for a job, and by the mercy of Allah, I was hired as a Case Management Volunteer with CODEC on November 6, 2019.

It was the first time I felt I had a role in the world again. Since then, I’ve worked to help other refugees, children like me, families like mine, who lost everything but hope. Life is still hard. Our salaries are small. We fall sick often. But we are human, and we still dream. We still believe

This story is not just mine. It is the story of the Rohingya people, a story of sorrow, strength, and survival. We were born in a storm, but we are not broken.

“Hope grows in the soil of pain. And education is the light that breaks through the darkness.”


My parents once dreamed I would become a surgeon. Today, I dream of studying at Stanford University. I don’t know what tomorrow holds. But I know that I will keep learning. I will keep helping. I will keep dreaming. of Because we may be refugees in the eyes of the world. But in the eyes of Allah, we are not forgotten.

Note:

Abul Kayas recieved the recent writing workshop and begins writing on real stories including his own one.

We are proud of seeing our Beginning Writer’s Workshop is playing an essential part of growing too many talents.

Life Destination High School

anuwarsadek493 Blog and Photo essay

Flood in Rohingya Refugee Camp Destroys Lowlands and Sandy Hillsides

The monsoon may seem romantic to many, but for the Rohingya Muslims in the refugee camps of Bangladesh, it brings only hardship. Torrential rains trigger floods that destroy shelters on the low ground, while landslides threaten those living on the sandy hillsides. Every year, many families are left homeless, losing their few valuable belongings, including essential documents; in the devastation.

Rohingya students are being stuck in the current of flood
A Rohingya youth, crossing the flood water
When flood occurs, it damages not only the shelters but also the hearts of Rohingya people
Two young boys, playing in flood water by using glands and floating over the water
If the hill is sandy, it is easy to break into pieces when during the rainy season and the shelters nearby it, are buried under the ground
This is a learning center completely wet due to flood water
A broken briadge and Rohingya children are crossing over it even though fear to fall comes
Shops and shelters are drowned in the flood water
Another learning center is also under the flood water
While the Rohingya children find the places where they play is drowned, they feel disapointed because they are not able to play

Photos: Anuwar Sadek

anuwarsadek493 Blog and Photo essay

Water Crisis In Rohingya Refugee Camp, Bangladesh

The Rohingya Muslims are the persecuted and vulnerable community in the world. Nearest one million Rohingya Muslims fled thier mother land, Myanmar due to genocidal act by the Myanmar Government and Arakan Army and currently taking refuge in the Cox’ s Bazar, Bangladesh. They extremely facing the challenge with many relevant basic needs such as food, health, movement, water, climate change and so on. Water is one of the most challenge for them to reach to their daily home- usage and pure water to drink clearly as the access to water is not enough to cover all the families in Rohingya refugee camp, Bangladesh.

Dried water doesn’t allow Rohingya women inside their shelters. Forcing them to stay in a long queue to fetch the water.
A Rohingya man is carrying water after standing for a long moment.
Even the children are not able to escape from crisis of water and they are also being forced to stand for water .
Water is the main problem for the Rohingya Muslims in Refugee camp, Banglsdesh. These both Rohingya men carrying water for their home-use.
Even after standing too long period, this man with litter falling sleep even he is standing
When the season is hot, the Refugee camp becomes a plot for fighting of water
Mohammad, 8, a Rohingya young boy used his two hands as a cup to drink water as he felt thirsty while he was on the way of his school
Mohammed Anos, 6 years old, a Rohingya child, helping to his pregnant mother by waiting for water beside the water tank
No matter how small a child is, everyone at least try to support to thier parents when they realize how the struggle they face within the water
This is camp-26, Teknaf, where Rohingya survivors often use the stream water to drink becuase the source of fresh water is unavailable there
This is what you see is a Rohingya cultral system which they used to drink water on the way of journey when they were in Myanmar
A little child is trying to release water from a water-tube

#Water #problem #Rohingya #Refugees #Crisis #lackofwater #waterissue #Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh

Photos: Anuwar Sadek

This is Anuwar Sadek, a photographer, writer, teacher and poet from the largest refugee camp, Bangladesh. Through my lens, I love capturing the hardships and emotional inner cry of the Rohingya Muslims and also capturing macro objects like insects and flowers.

Reach out me…. https://www.instagram.com/anuwar_sadek_dkl?igsh=c3Uxdzg3Z2ljcHl6

anuwarsadek493 Autobiography

Memoir of Abdul Karim



My name is Abdul Korim. I am the son of Hamit Husson and Khatiza. I am 18 years old and the proud brother of 10 brothers and 2 sisters. I was born and raised in KyetYoePyin village ( ကြက်ရိုးပြင်), located in Northern Maungdaw Township of Arakan State, Myanmar. Today, I live as a refugee in Camp-06 of the Kutupalong FDMN camp in Ukhiya, Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh.

Currently, I am studying in Grade 12 at a community high school called Life Destination High School. Throughout my academic journey, I have ranked 1st, 2nd, or 3rd in every Grade. But no matter how hard I work, it often feels like my efforts are in vain, as we refugees do not receive recognized certificates or qualifications. Despite this, I have not lost hope.

I come from what was considered a high-class family in our village. My father was a farmer and a respected Amir, and my mother is a dedicated housewife. Although my parents did not receive a proper education themselves, they always prioritized education for their children. I studied up to Grade 4 in Myanmar before we were forced to leave. My parents supported every dream I had, and I am forever proud to be their son.

Everything changed on August 25, 2017. That was the day I fled Myanmar and crossed into Bangladesh, escaping persecution, violence, and the ethnic cleansing campaign carried out by the Myanmar government. They labeled us “Bengali” to deny our identity, but we are Rohingya, and Arakan is our ancestral land.

I have always been a positive person. I love to read, to write, to dream, and to learn. I believe in growth through knowledge and community service. My dream is to become a doctor — not just for myself, but for my entire community. I want to serve the people who are suffering silently and bring dignity to the lives around me. But being born as a Rohingya means I face many restrictions. I cannot freely move, I cannot access quality education, and I cannot reach for opportunities like others in the world do.

We live under constant pressure as refugees in Bangladesh, we have no legal rights, no freedom of movement, and no official status. We face a double burden: discrimination in our homeland and statelessness in the land we fled to for safety. One of the hardest challenges I face today is the lack of access to higher education. The poverty that surrounds us makes it even harder, and without opportunities, our future becomes uncertain. Many young people here lose hope. But I refuse to give up.

Even though my dream of becoming a doctor seems far away, I still hold on to it. I continue to study, to learn, and to prepare myself. I believe one day, the world will hear our voices and give us the chance to rise not just for ourselves, but for the future of the Rohingya people.

Abdul Karim
After completing a writing workshop, Karim begins to write his own background as a memoir or an autobiography to share his inner crying which is still unheard by the world.

Edited by Anuwar Sadek

anuwarsadek493 Autobiography

Autobiography of Mohammad Younus NC



Name:                               Mohammad Younus NC
Father:                              Nurul Islam
Date of birth:                    2007
Address in Myanmar:     Ngan Chaung village (ငန်းချောင်း)
Address in Bangladesh: Block A, Camp-6, Kutupalong

My name is Muhammad Younus, also known as Maung Maung Soe NC, and I am the eldest child in my family. I am the son of Nurul Islam and #Rokiya, and I am currently 18 years old. According to UNHCR records, our family consists of 12 members. I was born in Ngan Chaung village (ငန်းချောင်း), located in the northern part of Maungdaw Township, Arakan State, Myanmar (မြန်မာနိုင်ငံ).

Today, I live as a refugee in Kutupalong Camp 06, Block A, in the FDMN camp at Ukhiya, Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh.

Early Life and Education

I was born into a humble Rohingya family. My father was a hardworking farmer, and my mother is a devoted housewife managing our large family with courage and strength. Although my parents are uneducated, they always taught us the value of learning and perseverance.

I studied up to Grade 4 in our village school in Myanmar, where I proudly achieved 2nd prize in both Grade 2 and Grade 3. After being forced to flee Myanmar, I continued my studies in the refugee camps of Bangladesh. I am now studying in Grade 12 at Life Destination High School (ဘဝပန်းတိုင်).

My educational journey has been full of challenges, yet I have remained determined. Throughout school, I ranked among the top three students multiple times. In the 2024 final examinations, I secured #second place in Grade 11 under the Myanmar curriculum. My favorite subjects are Biology, Chemistry and physics.

Career and Achievements

Alongside my studies, I have worked to contribute to my community. I served as a teacher with the Jagorani Chakra Foundation (JCF), a project under UNHCR, where I educated young Rohingya students in the camps. Unfortunately, the project was temporarily closed due to lack of funding.

I have also worked with other organizations such as NGO Forum, BRAC, and CWC, gaining valuable experience in humanitarian and community service work. These opportunities taught me leadership, communication, and the importance of helping others even in times of hardship.

Through my consistent effort in both academics and community service, I have built a foundation for my future goals. I aspire to one day serve my people at a global level.

Turning Point

The greatest turning point in my life came in 2017, when violence and persecution forced my family and me to flee #Myanmar. That painful journey across the border to #Bangladesh changed me forever.

I witnessed unimaginable suffering and the destruction of my homeland. We lost our property, identity, and sense of security overnight. Yet, amidst the fear and uncertainty, I made a promise to myself: I would not give up, and I would rise stronger for my people.

This turning point shaped my identity and gave me a deep sense of responsibility to pursue education and advocate for the rights of the Rohingya community.

The Pain of Persecution

I will never forget how we were denied our identity in Myanmar. We were called “Bengali” or “Kula” in an attempt to erase our Rohingya heritage. We were stripped of citizenship and forced into statelessness.

But the truth remains: we are the original people of Arakan, and Myanmar is our motherland. We were born there, and we rightfully belong there.

Dreams and Hopes

I find great joy in reading textbooks, writing poems and articles, and documenting the history of the Rohingya people. My dream is to become both a #university professor and an engineer, not just for myself, but to uplift and support my community.

As a Rohingya refugee, I face countless restrictions—no freedom of movement, no recognized citizenship, and limited access to higher education. Many young people in the camps have lost hope.

But I continue to study, learn, and prepare myself for the future. I believe that one day the world will hear my voice, and I will be able to bring change for my people.

Legacy and Impact

Though I am still young, I hope to leave behind a legacy of resilience, service, and hope. My goal is to break the barriers that confine Rohingya youth and to inspire them to dream again.

Through education and writing, I want to preserve our culture and history, and ensure that the sacrifices of our people are never forgotten. One day, I aspire to lead initiatives that provide quality education and opportunities to future generations.

My ultimate wish is for a world where Rohingya children can grow up with dignity, rights, and the chance to reach their full potential.

“I dream not just for myself, but for every Rohingya child who deserves a life of dignity and hope.”

@Muhammad Younus NC
Student | Aspiring Professor & Engineer | Advocate for the Rohingya Community

Note;
After completing a writng workshop, Younus begins writing his own autobiography.

Edited by Anuwar Sadek

anuwarsadek493 Autobiography

Autobiography of Nur Kader NC

Name : Nur Kader
Date of Birth. : 7 May 2004
Address. : Nang Chaung Village, Maungdaw Township, Arakan State
Religion. : Islam

Early Life and Education

I was born into a middle-class Rohingya family in Nang Chaung village, located in Maungdaw Township of Arakan State, Myanmar. My father, a hardworking farmer, is no longer with us, and my mother is a dedicated housewife. We lived a simple life, surviving hand-to-mouth without any strong financial background.

As a child, I often helped my father in the paddy fields. I cherished the natural beauty around us and spent my free time playing various games with friends. Despite our hardships, my childhood was extraordinary because of the love and care my parents gave me.

I began my education at Nang Chaung KG School and studied there until Grade 6. After being forced to flee Myanmar due to persecution, I continued my education in Bangladesh, completing my basic studies at Life Destination High School in Rohingya Refugee Camp 6.

Career and Achievements

Education became a light in the darkness of refugee life. I was honored to be selected among the top 10 in an essay and letter writing competition organized by the Rohingya Youth Initiative – RYI. Later, I achieved one of the top 2 positions in my Grade 12 exams.

Currently, I serve as a professional teacher under the Jagorani Chakra Foundation (JCF). Alongside my teaching career, I am committed to advocating for justice and writing about the struggles and hopes of the Rohingya people. My interest in writing and research continues to grow, fueled by my passion for truth and justice.

Struggles and Challenges

Being a Rohingya has meant facing constant challenges. I have endured discrimination, the loss of homeland, and limited opportunities for education and personal growth. The Myanmar government forced us from our land, stripping me of the rights and chances I deserved.

Yet, despite everything, I continue to dream. I aspire to become a professional writer and poet for my community—someone who can give voice to the voiceless and share our untold stories with the world.

Legacy and Impact

Though I now live in a refugee camp, I carry within me a heart full of dreams. My past is marked by persecution and loss, but I remain committed to building a better future through education, creativity, and hope.

One of my poems, titled “Dream as a Refugee”, expresses the journey of my soul and the resilience of my people. I am still writing, still dreaming—to become not just a teacher or a refugee, but a voice, a poet, and a writer for change.

@Nur Kader NC

A dreamer, a survivor, and an emerging voice of the Rohingya people. After completing a writing workshop organized by Life Destination High School , he began telling his own story as the author of his autobiography.

DREAM AS A REFUGEE

None choose to be in this life;
No dream alive to achieve
Dreaming as a refugee is not a choice.

To imagine the future is
disgusting;
          Dream is still a dream existing.
Dream as is not a choice.

Loading thousands of dream in mind;
       But a dream within refugee is a crime.
Dream as a refugee is not a choice.

Surviving in makeshift shelter;
      No dream to help a life arise.
A dream as a refuge is not a choice


Rarely hold up a dream to secure,
But for refugees, even hope feels unsure.
A dream as a refugee is not a choice.

autobiography #Writing #Rohingya #studentlife #Dreamer #highereducation

anuwarsadek493 Course on different topics

Alhamdulliah

The last day of Beginning Writer’s Workshop

Day 8 marks the final day of our #Beginning Writer’s Workshop. Heartfelt thanks to our dedicated #trainers and passionate #participants. A special note of gratitude to Saya Anuwar Sadek for your selfless efforts and unwavering dedication in guiding our students toward a brighter future.



#WritersWorkshop #Gratitude #YouthEmpowerment #AnuwarSadek #RohingyaWriters #Day8Complete