The writer is a journalist in Shan State who is receiving support from The Kite Tales to write these diaries.

There weren’t that many reporters in Taunggyi, the capital of Shan State, but we were very united. We formed the Taunggyi Journalists Association and stood as the state’s fourth pillar.

When there were special events in southern Shan, it was the journalists from this association that would go and cover them.

There used to be a cafe called Royal Pearl Rose tea shop on the eastern ring road in Taunggyi where we used to hang out. Whether it’s to hold a meeting, coming back from reporting, or just to discuss coverage of a news story, we’d be there. Each of us would bring our camera bags and our motorbikes, we’d sit down and talk about the stories we were working on.

We were a force to be reckoned with. After the military staged a coup, protests erupted all across the country. A Taunggyi  journalist was arrested while covering the demonstrations and members of the association went to the state government, the state police, and the ministry of border affairs, calling for his release. He was freed the same day.

But by the middle of March, when the military council’s troops became more violent, they started arresting more journalists.

Even reporters whose names didn’t appear on the wanted list gave up journalism and tried to dissolve into city life, not breathing a word about their previous profession. Other colleagues began to make plans to escape and one by one they slipped away. Some were arrested before they could escape and have been sentenced to two years or three years in prison.

The cafe that was such an integral part of Taunggyi journalists’ lives has also closed its doors and moved to a new location.

One day I received a message from a fellow journalist.

"Hey friend, how are you? Take care of your health. I miss the cafe we used to go to so I went to take a look at it and discovered it was no longer there. We will meet again one day. Be safe, my friend."

I couldn’t stop tears from streaming down my face when I read it.

Journalists can no longer help each other socially. The connection we used to have among us has been severed. Since we are always having to be careful of our own safety, there is little we can do besides feel bad about our inability to support others.

Veteran journalist U Than Wai, the patron of the Taunggyi Journalists Association that we had formed, passed away of old age a year after the coup, but since we were all dispersed and in different places, we couldn’t even attend his funeral.

In the fight between justice and injustice in politics, most journalists choose to side with the former. Those friends and colleagues who left continue to report from wherever they now live.

I keep asking myself when this political conflict will end. When will I be reunited with the people I used to hang out with all the time? When will we be back to where we were before? I keep pondering these questions but all I can do is pray for their good health from afar.

I long for the day when the country is at peace and we can all meet again at that little tea shop.

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