The writer is a former journalist from Myanmar who is now abroad. She is receiving support from The Kite Tales to write these diaries.

Late February 2021 (three weeks after the military seized power)
I used to avoid crowded places. I wouldn’t even take my children to go to some of the local fairgrounds and festivals and I tend to avoid the pagodas on special days. If I have to go, I go at around five in the morning. But when we took to the streets to protest the coup, I found myself praying to be surrounded by as many people as possible.

On Feb 22, my prayers were answered. I left home at 8.30am to reach Shwe Gone Tine junction in Yangon. Normally, this was a 30-minute drive. By noon, I was nearly there. That day, the security forces had blocked the roads in a bid to stop the protests. So we used different routes. The whole city was headed for the general strike. We were all no longer afraid of COVID-19.

I could see defiance from the people - a sense that we cannot allow this dictator to rule, even if we die.

I had been glued to my phone every single morning since the coup, but unlike in the past, it wasn’t work appointments that kept me occupied. I was checking where we are meeting, where we will march from, who will be printing banners, or bringing them along and handing them out. Often, I became so engrossed I didn’t even notice what was going on around me.

So many people I know, from my 22-year-old sister to all of my office colleagues, were ready to come together and be part of the protests. In my company there are a lot of young people, so we were all enthusiastic to march and I arranged transport and lunch for those who wanted to take part. We have not worked for almost a month, so not working for another day wouldn’t make much difference.( I decided that it wouldn’t  damage our future and our lives by not working for another day. )

I felt that I wouldn’t have a clean conscience when explaining to the future generation about this revolution if I didn’t take part in it.

When I left home that day in late February, my two aunts in their 60's and my children prayed for me to return home safely. But they didn’t stop me from going, they accepted that it was my job and I had to do it. They didn’t say it, but I knew they had considered and accepted the worst possible scenario.

As we drove through side streets to avoid the blockades, elderly people came out of their houses and stopped our cars to tell us they had been praying for our safety.  I tried not to cry in public, but I couldn’t stop myself.

Perhaps it was those prayers that allowed us to successfully hold our protest in Myay Ni Gone even though we faced many challenges.

Despite increasingly violent crackdowns by the junta, the people didn’t stop protesting for a single day. Every morning, people gathered and in the evenings, every household took part in banging pots and pans to drive the evil dictatorship away.
 
March 2021
My involvement in the revolution deepened. We handed out food amid the shootings. I collected safety and defence equipment for the young people on the front lines. I didn't even have time to think that my actual work and business was on the brink of collapse. I was just floating in the tide of revolution.

Soon, every day brought news of more young people detained. Or that someone I had spoke to just yesterday.. Well, today they fell on the streets.

These were hot, summer days full of anger and tears. I felt lost. To be honest, I felt scared. I started losing my self-confidence and I also felt guilty that some colleagues were now behind bars while I was still free. I told myself not to let my mind wander, that this was becoming a longer-term battle.

There was more and more bad news. Close friends had to flee and I wondered what to do next.

March 2022
Now I too am living away from my family after being forced to flee Myanmar.

I try to give meaning to the days, even if they are not fun. I often ask myself what I should do. The answer is I think: if we have a moment to live, that moment belongs to us.

Our dreams were destroyed last year. But we are still able to dream new dreams this year. So we will continue to hope - and we will never forget.

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