By Mayyu Ali
They’re Kind Killers
A stream of blood gushes
From where my husband and son were killed.
I watched
My baby snatched from me,
Thrown into the bonfire before my eyes.
He couldn’t even cry full song,
Burnt to fuel in a minute.
At least I didn’t have to see the corpses like others did,
Nor I did have to bury them.
They’re kind killers.
Killers enjoying the hunt.
One asked for money and gold,
I gave everything I owned, including my earrings
And they raped me one after another.
The last one said:
I am not going to use my penis on you
Instead, he used his knife.
They set me alight and left me for dead.
I find myself silent and bleeding.
The world is too brave to watch us being killed.
(Based on testimony of a Rohingya rape survivor of the Tula Toli Massacre carried out by the Myanmar military during the area clearance operation in August 2017)
