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Chapter Twenty Three

Around hundred Rohingya families congregated in and around the yard of Rahim’s hut. Their hearts were filled with terror and anxiety. Anis Mollah’s family was also among them. Homes of many of them had been burnt down. Many of the male members were picked up and taken away to unknown locations. Whoever tried to resist was shot dead. In one grotesque incident, as an infant boy clenched his father’s trousers, a man from the angry mob snatched the infant boy from his father, cut him into two pieces with his machete and threw the parts into the fire. Having lost her husband, her children and honor, another unfortunate lady lay dead on the space in front of her hut. Albeit ‘Operation Red-Blood Greetings’ gave birth to numerous such incidents, in Myanmar, none were seen protesting against it. Everyone knew what the consequences of protest would be. Apart from that, the anti-Rohingya sentiment all around the country paved the way for this kind of genocide. However, for some strange reasons, the bloody hands of the operation ‘Red-Blood Greetings’ did not touch the home of Rahim Mollah and his family. The neighbors had earlier speculated thi. Hence, it turned into a shelter for them. Wearing a check lungi and a white t-shirt, in a speechless manner, Rahim had been watching events. Finally, he broke the silence and said to Karim, “In 1971, the people of Bangladesh were in this kind of situation. At the time, the entire world helped them. Won’t any state come forward to help us?”

“Very unlikely, because in Arakan, the persecuted are Muslims and the ones behind this genocide are Non-Muslims. This is the world we live in. This is the reality.”

A mile to the north from the homes of Mollah clan, another Rohingya village comprised of forty homes was facing even greater peril at the hands of their Buddhist neighbors. Twenty Rohingya families lived in that village. This hamlet of Rohingya Muslims had been besieged by thousands of rowdy mobs. The mob was being incited against the Rohingyas by a few monks who had deep purple robes on them. With a mobile in his hand, Than Kin guided those monks from Hin Kao’s temple. According to him, Rohingya Muslims were the cause of everything that went wrong in Myanmar. Apart from that, for the sake of Buddha’s philosophy, driving away the Rohingya terrorists was an imperative. Continuously these words were being fed to the angry mob by these monks. Consequently, with whatever they had, the mob was getting ready to attack the homes of the Rohingya terrorists.

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The petrified Rohingya women wailed as their children clutched them as tightly as they could out of sheer terror. Finally, upon consulting with everyone an, old Rohingya man in his seventies, stood up to approach the mob with a proposal. After a prolonged period of arguments and prayers, it was decided that the women and children of the besieged Rohingya families would be allowed to leave. Those women and children were told to migrate to neighboring Bangladesh. However, the male members of their families would not be allowed to flee. There was no explanation from the mob as to what they wanted to achieve by having the Rohingya men under siege. It was assumed that the Rohingya men would face ethnic cleansing at the hands of their tormentors. When the besieged Rohingya families heard the conditions from Mohammad Yasin, the seventy-year-old Rohingya, one middle aged Rohingya man named Ayub advised the besieged families to accept the terms. Ayub argued that in this kind of atrocious situation, if the Rohingya men could ensure the safe passage of their families, it should be seen as the last achievement in their lives. Hence, it was decided that Mohammad Yasin was going to lead the exodus of Rohingya women and children as he had previous experience of crossing into Bangladesh over the River Naaf. Noon gave way to evening, as the Rohingya refugees completed their preparations for leaving behind their ancestral homes. Before embarking on this arduous journey, for the last time the wives, children and mothers touched the faces of their loved ones. There’s no language which could adequately express the somber appeal of such a tragic scene. It was not meant to be uttered, it was something to be felt by hearts governed by conscience.

Hundred and forty Rohingya men stayed back in their besieged homes. The besieged men saw signs of hope as most of the angry men had left for their homes before night fell. The Rohingya men hoped that perhaps the rowdy crowd would not return, and before morning they would be free from the siege. Come what may, at night there was resolve among the Rohingya men that if they had to die defending their ancestral homes, they would do their best to take with them in the procession of death, as many of their tormentors as possible. However, before that Ayub would try to convince the security personnel to perform their duties, instead of standing idly.

Before eight in the morning, like the previous day, thousands of angry people joined the siege of the Rohingya homes, though at dawn there were hardly any people around the spot. Only fifty yards from the six huts where the Rohingya men had taken shelter, a group of security personnel stood watching the situation. Tension farther heightened as Ayub approached the group with ten of his men. There were no signs of calm among the angry mob, though the security forces urged them to calm down. The men who were with Ayub had small knives in their pockets. The ones who remained in the huts were ready with machetes and sticks. If Ayub and his men were attacked, these Rohingya men would come out of the huts and attack the mob from rear.