06/11/2025
Hope to Home
I have lived in all the zones - in Myanmar, in No Man’s Land, and now in Bangladesh. Each place has its own kind of sorrow, but they are all connected by one word: home.
My real home is Arakan, the land where my family and ancestors lived for generations. Arakan is a difficult place with a difficult history. It is not only hard for the Rohingya; it has been hard for everyone who lives there. It has seen war, hate, and blood. It has seen genocide and many deportations of the Rohingya. For decades, people have fought and suffered there. That makes it a difficult home.
So what kind of hope can a person have for such a place? And what kind of hope can a refugee have?
I know not all refugees will agree with me. Rohingya refugees are not cattle. We do not all think the same. We have different dreams, different fears, and different ways of imagining our future.
My own hope is for an Arakan without a Genocidal military. An Arakan without terrorist armed groups. An Arakan where people live together as neighbours — not as enemies. A place of cooperation, not control. Today, that hope may sound unrealistic. But hope we must. Without it, we are only half alive.
Other refugees I know have a different hope. They dream not of Arakan, but simply of a home — any home where they can live safely. A home without barbed wire. A home where they can move freely, work, and study. A home where their children can sleep without fear. That too is hope.
Our hope is also rooted in justice. They too want an end to the cruelty of the military and of armed actors who keep our lives suspended between exile and return.
In the end, we all share one truth: we were unjustly expelled from our homeland. But the paths our hopes take are not the same. Some dream of going back. Others dream of starting anew.
Different hopes, one loss. Different dreams, one word — home.
~ Tawfiq Al-Mohsin