This diary is based on an interview with a female Civil Disobedience Movement employee who fled the fighting in Myanmar. The author is a journalist who is receiving support from The Kite Tales to write these diaries.

Of course, in front of my children I am strong. Unflappable.

I was the one who took them from the city to the jungle. My husband, their father, insisted we left before him. He told me he would follow. So I encouraged myself to be brave, reassured that he would catch up with us. If not at this village, then at the next village. 

We pack up and leave again whenever we hear news of junta arrests. We can hear gunshots and heavy weapons. I fear these sounds that bring nothing good to us.

I wouldn't be so scared if my husband was with me. I wouldn’t be so weak. When the fighting engulfed our area, most people fled to the rural villages, but he stayed behind. He was worried about the chickens and pigs we were raising at home. So I left, with the children on one hand and our bags on the other and full of misery.

We took refuge in other people’s villages, but we didn’t feel safe and secure. I was afraid the people who helped us would also suffer because of me.

We are not the only ones running. In our quest to topple tyranny, everyone who stands on the side of justice is under threat.

This is a time of chaos and many families have been fractured. Some will never be reunited. I’ve seen people who were caught while on the run and those who were killed. I'm a health worker and I've done what I can to help. I’ve seen my fair share of death. But seeing people giving up their lives for the cause they believe in is tragic.

I hate wars. I hate people who are crazy about power. Many people have lost their lives and futures because of their greed. So many kids from here went out to fight. Some came back. Some did not. I don't want to see this suffering anymore. I don't want to cry anymore for those who fell in battle. I don’t have the space in my heart for the amount of injuries that have been inflicted on us.

Almost a month after we arrived at the village we are staying in now, I heard news that the army arrested my husband. Oh my God.

I am very worried about him.

How badly are they torturing him? I have heard on the news of people who died during interrogation. People were arrested at night and their bodies were sent back in the morning. My heart aches. The children are devastated. What else can I do but cry? I can't sleep with these thoughts.

When I inquired what happened, it turned out they found a picture they did not like on his phone. He took the picture of something he had seen* and sent it to us. This was when we still had internet connection.

Then later he was stopped at a checkpoint and they went through his phone. They found the photo and accused him of sending it to outlawed media outlets.

When we heard that my husband had been sentenced to many years in jail, I burst into tears. The children burst into tears. We can’t go and see him. Will he be okay in prison? I was told his hearing has been affected because the soldiers beat him up during interrogation.

He should not be in prison. He never had anything to do with crime or prisons. If the military had not seized power, he would not be there. Our family would not be on the run like this either. Even though I cannot be sure if it will reach him, I’ve been sending him some money every month through contacts.

Whenever I eat something tasty, I think of him. When it rains or the sun shines, I think of him. How is he holding on? I wonder every night.

I am heartbroken for my children and for my husband. I have nothing left except my children and uncertain hopes for tomorrow, for the day my husband will return. Everything that we have built over the years has been destroyed.

Who will sympathise with us?

I don't want to talk to anyone anymore, I just want to be alone. My mind keeps jumping from here to there. Fear pops up suddenly and then subsides. I can’t sit still but I have no idea what I should do. Some people even thought I had gone crazy. I want to forget everything, but I have children.

No matter how much I try to be strong in front of other people, as soon as night falls, my mental state collapses. There are many tear-filled nights and I worry my children will see me crying for no reason. If they ask me why I am crying, I have no answer.

Sometimes I wonder what the purpose of my life is, what I am living for. For truth? For family? For country? With my thoughts in turmoil, I often don’t know if and when I fall asleep.

But with every sunrise that appears the next day, I have to live.

* Some details have been removed or changed to protect the family's identity. Interview conducted in a secure environment.

Artwork by Songbird who is receiving support from The Kite Tales to produce illustrations.