The Rohingya are a Muslim minority who have lived in the predominantly Buddhist nation of Myanmar for hundreds of years. Over the past two centuries – against a backdrop of British and Japanese colonialism – ethnic and religious divisions in this Southeast Asian country have intensified, culminating in what the United States Department of State has called a genocide.
There was a brief time when things were better. After Myanmar gained independence from Great Britain in the 1940s, Rohingya played an important role in establishing a new government – and Rohingya people had the same rights and legal standing as all other citizens.
This came to an end with the military takeover of Myanmar in 1962. Extreme Buddhist nationalism took hold. In the 1970s, Rohingyas’ national identity cards were confiscated. Soldiers destroyed their homes and property, and hundreds of thousands of Rohingya fled to Bangladesh, Malaysia, and elsewhere. A state-sponsored ethnic cleansing campaign followed from the 1980s through the 2000s, reaching a peak in 2017 with large-scale massacres and widespread destruction of Rohingya villages. An additional 700,000 Rohingya fled Myanmar during this period.
With help from Lutheran Services Carolinas’ New Americans Program, 188 Rohingya refugees have started new lives in the Carolinas. This is Idris Bin Abdul Shukur’s story.
100 years of persecution
I was born in Malaysia, but my parents and grandparents were born in Myanmar, in the province of Arakan. For 100 years, Rohingya people in Myanmar have been persecuted. We cannot be citizens there. We have no passports, we cannot vote, and our children cannot attend school. Rohingya live in fear of the police. The military regularly confiscates Rohingya livestock and produce. The army burned my father’s fishing boat and his land.
In limbo in Malaysia
My parents left Myanmar for Malaysia 40 years ago. Most Rohingya in Malaysia are very poor. Because they have no documentation, they are not recognized as citizens and can only get temporary jobs. Those who can find employment typically work in construction or in restaurants. I was among the very few Rohingya who could do well for my family there. I operated a restaurant, but I could not own it under my own name. Everything had to be done in the name of a Malaysian citizen.
Rohingya children are not welcome in Malaysian schools, so many don’t receive an education. I only learned to read and write because I had a Malaysian friend who would do his homework at my house after school. Once I was old enough to work, I was able to afford one private class, where I studied math and English.
Health care is very expensive for Rohingya in Malaysia. There are national medical clinics, but we must pay 20 to 30 times what Malaysian citizens do. When my wife, Bibi, was pregnant with our daughter, Nur, we could not afford for her to see a doctor.
A leap into the unknown
To obtain international refugee status, you must go through a determination process with the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). It took six years from the time UNHCR called until we were able to come to the United States. We didn’t know what to expect; we knew the United States was huge, and many people in Malaysia are wary of American culture. All we could do was pray and hope for the best.
In late May of 2023, Bibi, Nur, and I flew with my sister Rahimah from Malaysia to Qatar to Chicago, and finally on a small plane to Columbia, South Carolina. When we landed, we could see that South Carolina was not like the United States you see on TV! At first, we worried we had made the wrong decision. But then we met Matt [LSC Matching Grant Employment Specialist Matt Ray].
Unexpected blessings
Matt was the first American we really got to know. Through Matt, we discovered that what we had been taught about Americans was wrong. Matt has helped us so much. He is more than a caseworker; he is a friend. Day by day, we saw that things in the United States were good. LSC provided everything for us: a place to live, clothes, food, everything we needed. Life here is peaceful, and we are so grateful.
We moved to Philadelphia in January because Bibi has family there. We are expecting our first son, and her family will help after he is born. Nur is almost three years old and learning English quickly. We speak Rohingya at home, so our children won’t forget where they came from. I am about to start a new job with Amazon, and I have become friends with many Rohingya refugees. I enjoy helping others find work and connect to the community.
A secure identity
I earned money in Malaysia, but I never had a bank account in my own name. I couldn’t; I had no identification papers, no fingerprints, no government status. Here in the United States, I have documentation and a bank account. I have a driver’s license, and two weeks ago I bought my first car so I can drive myself to work! I still get tears in my eyes when Bibi and I receive official papers in the mail addressed to us.
I don’t know how to thank LSC. For the first time in 100 years, we can say: We have a land. We have a home. We have a name.
Photo caption: Idris Bin Abdul Shukur, his wife, Bibi, and their daughter, Nur.