Run, Rohingya, Run

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Run, Rohingya, Run

By Ziaur Rahman
 (`surviving´ in Malaysia)
It’s not easy being Rohingya.
Our very name means being on the run,
all over the world.
Running in pain.

I have been a refugee all my life
almost 25 years, three countries.
It’s not easy being stateless.
Governments offer their blind eye,
call it `non-intervention´.
Governments and ordinary people
choose silence, won´t say our name.
So we remain on the run
all over the world
in pain.

Thousands of Rohingya lose strength,
can no longer fight this cruelty,
being exiles the world over.
Hopes, like bodies, die.
How long must we live this life,
which is like being eaten alive
by insects?
How long will you see us as `different´
leaving us to be on the run
around a blind world,
in pain.

Being Rohingya is not easy.
Can our existence not be acknowledged?
Is there no country to call home?
Must we forever suffer
torture, discrimination, harassment?
Be pushed to sea in leaking boats?
Traded for money?
Being Rohingya…why must it mean
being on the run,
the world over,
in pain?

I tell you, call to your folks in your home:
Being Rohingya is not easy.
Our hearts also bleed.

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