fence rohim ullah.jpg

Photo by Rohim Ullah

I recently read an article entitled The Architecture of Rohingya Exclusion by Shafiur Rahman, published in the September 16, 2025 edition of United Against Humanity. The following is an excerpt. It is a statement I wish I had seen earlier so that I could have commented on it before the September 30 UN High Level Conference devoted to the Rohingya and other ethnic groups from Myanmar. Rahman wrote:

 “The issue is not the presence of refugees, but the architecture of exclusion that keeps them from contributing safely and legally. The greatest constraint on economic potential in Cox’s Bazar is not the refugees themselves, but Bangladesh’s deliberate policy of containment. Restrictions on movement, work, and education have disabled meaningful participation while fueling dependency and resentment. Infrastructure without rights becomes another tool of control.”

https://www.against-inhumanity.org/2025/09/16/rohingya-refugees/

I, Marja Bergen from Canada, am an independent supporter of the Rohingya people, perhaps not fully qualified to comment on the above, yet having felt along the same lines as Rahman expresses in his article and thus moved to write. Since February this year, I have followed the lives of over 150 LinkedIn connections I’ve made with refugees through personal messaging via LinkedIn. I came to care a lot about the Rohingya people I became acquainted with.

I also read many of the LinkedIn posts they published, frustrated that the rest of the world wasn’t listening to them in the way I was. I tried my best to write posts that would inform the world of their plight as I came to understand it. But I felt as frustrated as the Rohingya people themselves did. My voice was not heard. No matter how I tried, no one would listen.

I did this work on a daily basis, spending most of my waking hours talking to them and studying all I could about their story. Writing my own posts.

Although I’m new to their story, I couldn’t help wondering why they are being forced to live under the unjust situation they have been for the past eight years—their living conditions gradually worsening and them powerless to personally do anything to improve their lot.

The Rohingya people have been trying to do everything they can to build a future for their people. But at every turn, their Bangladeshi hosts keep them from improving their lives. It is illegal for them to work and make an income. And they are prevented from furthering their education—education that is their only hope for a future. They are not permitted to move freely beyond the barbed wire enclosures that house them. It’s as though they are prisoners.

Why are they being kept this way, kept from seeking a life without reliance on humanitarian aid?

I’ve never before seen such resilience by a people who had suffered from some of the greatest persecution and discrimination in the world today. Through their trials they have developed strong character, persevering, no matter what. All this, despite the knowledge that the world had forgotten them. All this, while they were aware that their voices were not being heard. Despite the lack of compassion from other human beings.

In the way that suffering from great trials have produced leaders in history, I believe that they too have the makings of the leaders of tomorrow. They could be seen as an example for the world to follow.

Is it the way they clung to their faith that was their secret for survival? Throughout the stripping of their citizenship, the genocide, the rejection by countries where they had sought safety, they did not forget to worship their Almighty God. They did not forget his mercy for them. Although so many in this world were abandoning their God, filled with hatred for people with religious faith that differed from their own, the Rohingya held tightly to theirs.

If only the world would see the Rohingya as people deserving their admiration. If only the world could look at them for who they are—not people looking for pity or handouts—but a people who want to contribute to the world. Among them are young children, eager to learn, longing to be teachers and doctors and lawyers.

In my long life I have never seen such determination by children and youth to learn. They know that it’s the only hope they have for a future. Children sit on their knees on bare floors bent over their studies, doing what they can to learn. They are lacking sufficient books, paper and pencils.

There have been many school closures in the camps this year due to lack of funding. I recently heard an unofficial report from a Rohingya teacher that only grades 5 to 12 are reopening and grade 4 is one day a week. The rest, from Kindergarten to grade 3, are completely closed.

Rohingya youth are capable of so much. But they need to be given a chance. What is the reason for holding back such a resilient population who have so much to offer?

Marja Bergen