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When I was young and growing up in Mandaly my mother always
reminded me of the Buddha's Five Precepts-not to lie, drink alcohol,
steal, have lustful thoughts or to kill. I still remember her words
and, in particular, what she said to me one day.
"Never violate the Five Precepts", she told me. "As
soon as you break the rules, you will sooner will sooner or later
face many problems. You may even go to prison where there are thieves,
murderers, rapists, liars and drug-addicts. If that happens you
will be an outcast from society."
As I grew up, my mother's teachings remained the same and in my
last year of high school she would stress the importance of education.
"You have to try hard in your studies in order to live your
life to a high standard. As you know, the only thing I can give
you is education. Although I never had the right to learn, I have
decided that you must be well educated. So if you want to show your
gratitude to me you can just try to study hard."
I studied hard and tried my best to follow the Five Precepts. Then
I was accepted into Rangon Institute of Technology (RIT) and I started
studying engineering. My mother was extremely proud and constantly
boasted to her neighbours. "My son will be an engineer soon,"
She would say, "and my wishes will be fulfilled." I could
feel her strong desire for me to be an engineer.
Every time I returned home during the holidays, she used to say,
"Keep holding on to the Five Precepts and studying hard."
At that time my father's pension from the government was only 300
kyats and my monthly fees for study added up to nearly 350 kyats.
Every time I asked my mother how she was paying for me she would
reply, "Don't think about it. The only thing you have to concentrate
on is your learning."
During one holiday in Mandalay I was involved in a fight with some
thugs and I suffered a minor injury. I asked my mother to forgive
me as I tried to avoid getting involved.
"I already know how it happened. It is not your fault,"
She said with a smile. "Fighting and quarrelling is not good,
but sometimes it's inevitable, especially when someone tries to
bully another."
She paused and then continued, "As far as you can, you need
to be patient and tolerate. You must not be the first to do wrong,
and it also must not be your fault. If you think you have done someone
wrong, never be reluctant to apologize for your mistake. If someone
is being bullied, never think it's not your business. But you need
to have the ability to judge who is wrong and to stand up for the
right side."
It was 1987 and I was in my fifth year at RIT, the second last
year of my Engineering Degree. Although my father's pension remained
at 300 kyats a month, inflation was high and everyday goods were
very expensive. My mother had to try very hard for her to survive
and to also pay for my education fees.
"I think I should take this academic year off," I suggested,
"with things so difficult at the moment."
"Never suggest such a thing!" my mother shouted. "Your
father's pension and my backyard farm are enough for us to survive.
Before I die, all I want is for me to see you at your graduation
ceremony. That's all!"
I had never seen my mum so angry before. After her outburst she
calmed down and mumbled, "I don't understand why the government
didn't give you a scholarship."
Five months later came the day I shall never forget, which happened
to be during my final examinations for fifth year. On September
6, 1987, the then ruling BSPP cancelled the 75, 35, and 25 kyat
notes without offering any replacement.
Just the day before, my mother had given me 350 kyats in 25 kyats
notes. All the money was now worthless. Holding money in my hand,
I was dumbfounded and could only envisage my mother. Although it
was only 350 kyats, or about U$4, it was a lot of money for my family
and my mother made a lot of sacrifices for it.
When I looked around, there many angry students on the campus.
All the canteens were closed. I went with a group of students to
see one of the senior lecturers and asked what we could do. He asked
us to calm down and said that he sympathized with us very much but
he also had a lot of money that was now worthless.
One of lecturers complained, "If we had a democratic government
it would not have the right to cancel its currency without compensation."
This was the first time that I had heard the words 'democratic
government' from a fellow Burmese. Before then I had only heard
it on the Voice of America (VOA) and the British Broad casting Corporation
(BBC).
When the school authorities refused to say whether or not the government
would exchange the now worthless notes, students poured out their
anger by burning cars and breaking windows. This was the first time
I participated in a demonstration and it was my first confrontation
with security police. Followed the protests, schools were closed
and some students were secretly dismissed from their schools.
When I arrived back home, my mother asked me whether I participated
in the riots. I had never lied to her and so I answered with fear
that I had she stared at me for a while and said slowly, "You
are right. There are many ordinary people like me who have suffered
from the cancellation of the notes. I wonder why they keep their
emotions under control. Under this government, there are many times
that notes have been cancelled but this one is the worst."
Then she showed me nearly 3000 kyat, but it was all in 25 kyat
notes. She said with deep sadness that she had saved it for my final
year.
A week later, I received a letter from the registrar of RIT stating
that I didn't have the right to continue with my exams because of
my involvement in the riots. I showed the letter to my mother.
"They forget the government has robbed its own people",
she calmly said.
"There's no need to be disappointed. To be frank, I want you
to be an engineer, but there may be little similarity between the
dream and reality. You can't predict the future. The most important
thing is to do your best."
My neighbours sympathized with my mother and me. I tried to stay
away from my mother because every time I talked with her my heart
ached. I wanted was feeling the same. During those days I asked
her to take a rest and relax, and I took over her daily work. My
neighbours also successfully persuaded her to go to and visit a
temple for a couple of days outside Mankalay.
In February 1988, I received a letter from the registrar of RIT
stating that I could submit a letter of appeal to the Education
Minister if I wanted to continue my studies. I happily showed the
letter to my mother and I thought that she would be very happy.
However, after hearing the news she was silent for a while.
"In my opinion, your registrar's view is partial", She
said clearly. "First, the govern-menty should apologize to
the people. It should say why it cancelled the bank notes and say
it has failed to explain about the cancellation. After that, you
should submit a letter to the Minister and you should explain to
him why you became involved in the riots. I think this is the right
thing to do."
She continued, "For your future, you need to continue your
study. But you have to know in reality that may not be possible.
I am 65 years old," she said, "and until now I've never
been robbed. Under the Japanese and the British I was even able
to save money, but not this government."
After that, I had to get character references from the Township
Socialist Programme Party unit and the local police. But in order
to get them quickly I had to pay 25 kyat for each reference. Then
I went down to Rangoon and submitted the documents to the registrar
of RIT and to the Department of Education. Although that is now
over ten years ago, I've still not received a response.
I arrived back home in Mandalay and heard that an RIT student had
died from stab wounds after a fight with some thugs. My mother was
shocked "It's not easy to turn a young boy into a university
student. A lot of time and money goes into it and this young man's
death is a loss for both his family and his country. I sympathize
with his parents very much. I don't know why clever men, instead
of thugs, die early. When Bogyoke Aung San was assassinated he was
only 32 years old."
After that another tragic event happened at my university. On March
13, 1988, the security police shot dead a student. My mother was
inconsolable at the news, describing the actions of the police as
unjust and verging on anarchism.
During those days, I noticed that my mother spent her time handling
the prayer beads and mediating in front of the Buddha. At night,
she listened to the BBC without saying anything to me.
On March 16, 1988, many students demonstrated peacefully at Rangoon
University campus, demanding students' rights and an inquiry into
the student's death. The military answered by launching a crackdown
and arresting many students. Many were injured in the crackdown
and soldiers also raped some female students.
After listing to the BBC, my mother whispered. "Why are the
police so bloodthirsty? If this continues I think the country will
be ruined. When the government fails to abide by the Ten Precepts
for rulers, it is usual for a nation to suffer and its people come
to great harm."
From my own viewpoint, I wanted justice and I felt a sense of freedom.
The tragic new from Rangoon University had fanned my flames of anger.
Later I discovered that my mother's predication of the country
going to ruin was true. There were many riots and looting in Rangoon
after the tragedy of March 16. I got a letter from the family of
one of my friends living in Rangoon. They wrote that their son was
in Insein Prison but they were not allowed to have contact with
him.
I showed the letter to my mother and asked her for some advice.
She thought a while and asked, "What do you want to do and
how do you feel? Let me know first."
"I want to go and see my friend's parents and give them some
encouragement," I replied honestly.
"You should first go and see the family whose son was killed
by the police." she sighed. "After that you should go
to the family of your friend in jail."
After looking up at the sky, my mother said softly, "I think
you have been dismissed from your class." One of your friends
has been killed and another is detained without reason.
During that time I was familiar with the terms 'human rights',
'democracy' and 'dictator' as a result of listing to the VOA and
the BBC. My mother's favorite person on radio was Christopher Gannet,
a BBC reporter. She seemed to forget about her ambitions for me
becoming an engineer and I also began to look for books on human
rights and democracy. I wanted to know more about the 1962 military
coup of Ne Win, the student demonstrations that followed, U Thant's
funeral riot in 1974, and many other acts of defiance against the
military.
On the first of June one of my friends was released from prison.
According to Buddhism, everyone who is released from prison has
to be ordained as a monk in order to absolve him of his sins. My
friend invited me to attend his religious ceremony and I also wanted
to ask him about his prison life. I attended my friend's ceremony
and also asked him about his two months in prison, not knowing that
I would spend over six years in jail myself.
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