By Ra Wai / MPA

“I have to blame my own life for being born here, in this country,” said a 23-year-old young man.

He is a young man who fled from a small town by the Yangon-Pyay highway in Bago Region. His hair, disheveled and unkempt, clearly has not been combed just to look good. He looks utterly disconsolate as if he has just gotten out of bed at noon. His face, surrounded by clouds of cigarette smoke, is blurry.

“I have never felt depressed this much in my life,” he added.

Around mid-August, he tried to leave the country. In a nation where basic human rights are non-existent, getting the chance to go abroad is nothing short of a divine blessing. Despite reciting every prayer he knew, when he finally reached Yangon International Airport, a plainclothes official with a stern face cut him off with a single sentence: “No, go back.”

That single phrase, “Go back,” wiped out all his efforts—his plane ticket, hotel bookings, visa fees—everything was lost. The greatest loss was the devastated feeling that his future had just disappeared, as he explained.

“I don’t know who that guy in disguise was, but there were police officers nearby, and I did not dare to ask. I was so afraid they would arrest me,” he continued.

These plainclothes agents were deciding based on the appearance of young travelers whether to let them board the flight. His friend, who was also trying to leave for Thailand, complained to the guard and asked, “Why?” The officer, with a stern face, shot back, “Don’t you want to get home safely?” Realizing that the officer was implying imprisonment, they turned around, heads hung low. This depicts the dire life of Myanmar’s youth threatened even to question why and complain. Is it Min Aung Hlaing’s Interrogation Chamber, or is it Yangon International Airport?

Throughout August, it became evident that the authorities at Yangon Airport, including the police and these unidentified plainclothes officers, were profiling young travelers, violating their right to leave the country.

For youths like them, working abroad with a PJ, an overseas worker passport, becomes impossible, so they attempt to use a PV, a tourist passport, instead.

“I think some of them are not even going to work. But they target young people with PV passports, interrogating and kicking them out. Some people get through; maybe they answer the questions well or perhaps they have paid bribes. But for many, they just turn them away without asking a single question. And at least they would lose the cost of a plane ticket,” said an airport worker.

This young man from Bago also mentioned that seven out of ten friends who tried to leave the country in August were rejected.

They had already spent enormous money just to get their PV passports. Now, even those are useless. They no longer see any point in staying in Yangon. And if they return to their hometowns, they are almost assured of being drafted into the military.

He and his two friends from the same town came to Yangon in late 2023 before Operation 1027 commenced. Their dream was to work in Korea. They spent nearly a year in Yangon, working hard to pass the Korean language proficiency test. Once they passed, the chance of securing a job in Korea was over 80%. Three of them were all hopeful and euphoric.

Their parents are from a comfortable middle class, so they had no worries about money, and for them, Yangon was a place of opportunity if you knew how to live.

“I didn’t like the military council, but I thought politics had nothing to affect me. It wasn’t until the military conscription law came out that I realized politics had come knocking at my door, just like I had seen people posting on Facebook,” he said.

Even though they tried to avoid politics, there was no escape. The military conscription law has restricted return to their hometown. Additionally, living in Yangon has become frightening after the 2024 Thingyan Festival. Thanks to family connections, they have a mutual understanding with their ward administrator and avoided being registered on overnight guest lists, but living in Yangon no longer felt secure. Every time they heard dogs barking past midnight, they would peer out the window, wondering if the authorities were coming to check the overnight guest lists. Nights have been in turmoil, instilling constant fear into life. 

Eventually, they realized they had to leave Yangon as soon as possible. They gave up their Korean dream and focused on finding work in Thailand or another country. Some of their more daring friends had already snuck into Thailand through illegal routes. Some were doing well, while others were being detained.

“How painful is that? Two of our friends snuck into Thailand, got caught, and ended up in jail. After they got out and were deported back to Myanmar, the military drafted them,” he explained.

They spent a lot of money to snuck into Thailand, avoiding the military draft, they were arrested and imprisoned in Thailand for six months only to be deported back to the country after being released and forcibly enlisted into the army.  

Even in Yangon, reports of forced conscriptions and disappearances were spreading widely, leading everyone to be on high alert, according to a 20-year-old young man from Hlaing Township in Yangon.

Despite the military council trying to obstruct young people from going abroad, he noted that jobs on foreign ships were still available. Many youths now aim to secure jobs in the shipping industry.

“My current goal is not to get arrested on the streets. With all these reports on Facebook about forced conscriptions, I have to keep an eye on junta stooges everywhere I go and every shop I enter,” he said.

In Yangon, both employed and unemployed young people, outside the military council’s circle, feel that their past is all they have left with their present and future lost. There is no joy or laughter, only the constant dread of being abducted or drafted into the military. Every thought is filled up with these fears. For the youth, there are only two options left: find a way to settle down abroad or join the PDF and fight back.

“We are not even afraid of starving anymore. We are not afraid of doing menial labor. As long as we don’t get drafted into the army, we will do anything, even if it means cleaning the toilets,” he said.

The young populace is getting less and less in every town. After the attempted military coup, many left to join the anti-dictatorship armed resistance, some devoting their lives to their beliefs. Many youths have risked their lives. Now, with the new forced military conscription law, many youth who can are fleeing, while others, more or less, remain mopped and trapped in a dilemma, uncertain of their fate.

“I watched the young people from my town slowly disappear right before my eyes,” said a tea shop owner from Kyauk Tan, a town near Yangon.

A writer based in Yangon remarked that avoiding military service was itself an act of resistance. If possible, he urged young people to join the armed struggle against the junta or contribute to the resistance financially if they could not fight.

The young man from Bago added, “If there’s no way to leave the country, the only option left is to join the PDF with my friends. There’s no way I would join the military.”