I have a native country
Where I was born;
Arkan is what it is called
but I we have been seperated from each other by force..
I have my own village
Where I built my own home called Long Don Foki Daung..
but the armies destroyed it.
We had schools
Where we used to go to study,
It was called Kyein Chaung High school,
but it is still closed and cries for Rohingyas who would perhaps never return..
We had a small madrasa in our village,
Where we used to learn Arabic and teach each other about the unity of human beings,
but it was burnt down to ashes,
We had a Small mosque in our village,
Where we used to worship, recite the Holy Qur’an and beseech,
but it was burnt down..
We had a library,
Where a lot of students used to study and was called as High School library,
but is now closed for Rohingyas,
We had a play ground
Where a lot of friends used to play football called High School Ground ,
but the government made it the army’s camp…
We had a big market,
Where we used to buy and sell goods,
It is called Kyein Chaung Boli bazaar,
but it was destroyed in 2018.
A lot of innocent Rohingya people were killed, burnt alive and our sisters were gang raped in front of our parents.
and they shot most of us with guns,
A million of us got a chance to flee to Bangladesh and since that time they have been living by taking refuge,
but still no way to go back to our land …
Arkan was my home..
They torn us apart and kept us apart…