I’m sure if you’ve been watching the news, you’ll be aware of the uprising against the junta that has reemerged. More global attention has been brought to the situation than before, and people are being brutally put down – that is, dying.
There are a few ways we can prevent them from dying for a lost cause. Yes, we at home, at our computers, leading comfortable lives, can do something for these people from the comfort of our own homes. Helping has never been this easy.
I implore you, all it takes is a bit of typing to join the many other people from around the world to sign this Avaaz petition.
Avaaz sent me another email recently, which informed me of the interesting position Singapore is in in this situation. Apparently, we have the (economic) power to pressure Myanmar into democracy. Read this Reuters article.
Avaaz believes that we can urge George Yeo, Singapore’s foreign minister, to pressure the junta further, peace may not be far off. So, just for Singaporean people, we have our own petition to sign, here!
One of the best things you can also do: Pray.
Humans deserve to live freely, and not to be oppressed by other humans. Please act to change the world for the better.
I wrote the story below in hopes that you may realise the bloodshed that is going on at this very moment. It may be fictional, but the events are happening, right now.
“It isn’t right.”
The captain paused his assault on the monk, and glowered at Win-Ye. “Are you questioning me, private?” he barked.
“We’re hitting monks!” he cried. “We’re supposed to give them alms, not blows!”
“One more protest,” the captain threatened menacingly, “and you’ll be court-martialled.”
Win-Ye knew ‘court-martialled’ meant ‘shot’. He kept his mouth shut, but his mind persisted, “It isn’t right, it isn’t right, it isn’t right…”
The captain continued his bludgeoning of the monk. His saffron robes were dyed a crimson red.
“Freedom! Freedom!” The monks cried as they walked along the street. Some civilians broke out of their ranks to try and help the bloodied monk, but the captain’s guards pushed them away, and started to beat them too.
“Freedom, freedom! Freedom for Burma!”
It isn’t right, it isn’t right, it just isn’t right…
“Freedom, freedom! Freedom for Burma!” Myint-Sein cried – albeit a bit nervously – as he marched with his fellow orange-clothed brethren. He looked nervously at some of the military policemen who held their batons, thumping it in their hands menacingly.
“Master, I’m afraid of those men!” Myint-Sein told his elder. “I’m afraid they’ll come and beat me up!”
“Why?” Khine-Htut said calmly. “We’re doing a non-violent march to Aung San Suu Kyi’s house. We aren’t reacting in violence or fighting anyone. We’re simply marching, marching towards Freedom.”
“But they already beat up Htin-Nyein and left him for dead by the roadside!” he said nervously, gesturing at the monk who lay sprawled on the ground behind them.
“Why are you afraid of death?” Khine-Htut gently asked the cowering monk. “With death, our souls are transported to a higher place. You don’t have to afraid of dying for the right thing.”
“It’s the right thing to do, because what the junta is doing…it isn’t right.”
Myint-Sein contemplated his words.
It isn’t right.