Word by Sabekun Naher, 25- Nov-2025
The sun was high, casting warm rays across the rough pathway of hill. As I walked past on the top of mountain where a betel shop stood, built with old bamboo and tore up tarpaulin, I noticed a young girl, namely Mustakima who is sitting silently, her small frame curled into the shadows. She looked out of place among the bustle of the shop and the world outside. Her eyes, too old for her tender years, stared blankly at the ground, filled with a quiet despair.
She couldn't have been more than eleven. Her hair, neatly tied back by hanging hair clipper with flower and full of stress vibes. Yet her expression told a story of loss and longing. Around her, the world moved on — teenagers walked by in their school uniforms, laughing and carrying books. It was a stark contrast to her stillness.
I couldn’t help but approach her. Gently, I asked, “Why aren’t you at school, like the others?”
At first, she hesitated. Her small hands fiddle in middle of thigh, her voice barely above a whisper. Then, with halting words, she began to share her story.
She was an orphan who lives in Kutopalong, she said. Both of her parents had passed away, leaving her and her siblings to navigate life’s challenges alone. Her sisters were her world now. Five of them were married, busy with families of their own, while her elder sister, the only one left at home, bore the burden of looking after her.
Her voice broke as she spoke of her reality. “There’s no one to send me to school,” she said. “No one to help me study or dream like the others.”
I looked at her, this pitiful child with the weight of the world on her shoulders, and my heart ached. While other children her age were filling their days with lessons, laughter and enjoying with family, she was here, watching life pass her by, burdened by circumstances she couldn’t control.
Mustakima's life is a hash reality of Rohingya's condition in camp. It wasn’t just a tale of loss; it was a reminder of the painful life of Rohingya children like her, the unspoken struggles they have been through, and the responsibility these children are left behind.