The Rohingya have suffered years of persecution in Burma. Rohingya Muslims are denied full citizenship, their movements restricted, their prospects grim. In a makeshift Internet hut in a crowded internal displacement camp set up for the Rohingya in western Burma, the Reuters photographer Minzayar captured a series of intimate and heartbreaking portraits of families, their faces lit by laptop screens as they contact loved ones and relatives who have left the country for Thailand and Malaysia, escaping the violence that led to 200 deaths and left over 140,000 homeless in 2012. The video chats are personal, often wrenching, discussions held in a very public space in the camp. Aside from reunions and catching up, many of the conversations are with human traffickers who demand thousands of dollars to free family members. The Rohingya merchant Kyaw Thein, who runs the Internet hut, also assists in wiring cash between loved ones and funneling money to the traffickers. The captions below describe the conversations taking place, captured in the portraits above.
Ransoms and Reunions: The Internet Huts of Burma
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Sohidar, 25, a Rohingya mother of four, enjoys an Internet reunion with her husband Muhammad Shamin, 30, who works in Malaysia, from an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village, home to thousands of displaced Rohingya Muslims near Sittwe, the capital of Rakhine State in western Burma, on January 31, 2015. Her face is smeared with a traditional Burmese cosmetic paste called thanaka. "Whatever happens, whatever anyone does, don't get into any fights," Sohidar warns him. "Don't worry, don't worry," he replies. #
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A man speaks at a computer in an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village, home to thousands of displaced Rohingya Muslims near Sittwe, Burma, on February 15, 2015. Operators of the huts charge customers 10 cents a minute to talk to relatives who have left Rakhine State by boat to seek work overseas. #
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Muhammad Eliyas, a 23-year-old Rohingya, speaks to his 17-year-old brother who is in the hands of traffickers, from an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village, Burma, on January 31, 2015. He and their mother have brought the equivalent of $1,500 to the Internet hut, whose owner will transfer it to the trafficker via a middleman in a nearby village. Relatives entrust Kyaw Thein with bricks of kyat which he delivers to a Rohingya middleman in a nearby village. He says he doesn't charge for this service or deal directly with the traffickers. "They trust me," he says, "but I don't trust them." #
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People gather in and around an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village on February 15, 2015. Operators of the huts have connected laptops to cellphones mounted in the rafters of the hut, charging customers 10 cents a minute to talk to relatives overseas. #
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Norbanu, a 60-year-old Rohingya, speaks with her daughter's boyfriend, who is now in Indonesia, from an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village on February 14, 2015. He has broken his promise to send for her, Norbanu tells him, so she will now marry off her daughter to another man. #
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Noor Zirarmad, 67, speaks to his son in Malaysia from an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village on February 15, 2015. His son has sent him the equivalent of about $100. Zirarmad, a Rohingya Muslim, is confirming receipt of the money, which will pay for medical treatment for his sick wife. #
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Salima, a Rohingya woman, talks to her husband, son, and daughter, who are all being held by traffickers abroad, from an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village on January 31, 2015. She has to pay $600, and they discuss how to raise it. Later, she shouts at the trafficker himself. #
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Noor, a 28-year-old Rohingya woman, jokes with her husband Muhammad Rafiq, 35, while their son Noor Kaidar listens at an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village on January 30, 2015. Rafiq has been working in Malaysia for 10 months; this is the fifth time they've spoken during that period. "Don't send us more money," Noor urges him. "Make sure you have enough to buy clothes for yourself first." "Can I kiss you?" asks Rafiq. Noor laughs, "There are other people here. Think about what you say." #
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Abdul Salam, a 47-year-old Rohingya, asks a friend in Malaysia for advice from an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village on January 29, 2015. His friend Muhammad Rafiq, a Rohingya in the village, has a son held by traffickers, and they are raising the money to pay the ransom. Abdul Salam's question is: How can he be sure the trafficker, once paid, will let the boy go? #
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Jeweliyar, a 35-year-old Rohingya, counts out about $600 worth of Burmese currency while her mother Toryubar, 65, watches on in an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village on January 31, 2015. The money is part of a $1,500 ransom demanded for Toryubar's 23-year-old daughter, who is held by traffickers in Malaysia. Like many relatives, she entrusts the money to the Internet hut's operator, Kyaw Thein, who delivers it to a traffickers' middleman in a nearby village. #
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Rohimar, a 30-year-old Rohingya, reacts as she talks to her brother Abdul Rahman, 25, who left Myanmar eight months ago and is currently in Malaysia, from an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village on January 31, 2015. Rohimar is upset. She says she sold everything to fund her brother's journey overseas, but he hasn't sent her any money. "I feel alone and abandoned," she says. "He only gives money to his wife who is still living here. We are left totally helpless even though I always pray for him." #
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Muhammad Ali (left) and his cousin wait for the call to get through to Muhammad's son in Malaysia, from an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village on January 30, 2015. The call never went through. #
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Fatima looks at a computer screen in an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village on February 13, 2015. Fatima, a 30-year-old Rohingya, is trying to reach her 13-year-old son, who is being held in a trafficking camp in Malaysia or Thailand, but his captors won't let her talk to him until she has paid the $1,500 ransom. "I don't even have a hut to sleep in," she says. "Where can I get that much money?" #
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Sohidar, 25, a Rohingya mother of four, listens as her husband Muhammad Shamin, 30, who works in Malaysia, talks to their eldest child Noor Kamal, 9, at an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village on January 31, 2015. The boy asks if he can have a bike so that he can cycle to school. "When you get to fifth grade, you can get a bike," says his father. #
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Abdul Kadar cries as he talks with traffickers from an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village on January 30, 2015. Abdul Kadar's 14-year-old daughter left home one morning and never came back. She is now in a camp in Thailand or Malaysia. Traffickers are demanding a $1,500 ransom that Abdul Kadar, a Rohingya rickshaw driver earning about $1.50 a day, cannot pay. Abdul Kadar told them to find a man who wants to marry his daughter, then ask him to pay the ransom. He knows he is effectively giving the traffickers permission to sell his daughter. "All I have are worries," he says. "I can't do anything." #
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Fatima holds her grandchild as she talks to her son from an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village on February 14, 2015. Fatima, a 56-year-old Rohingya, blesses her son's choice of bride via the Internet. He sits in a café in the Malaysian capital Kuala Lumpur, where he works as a cleaner. "Of course you must marry her, if her skin is fair," Fatima tells him. He promises to introduce his sweetheart in a later call. "You are the tree and I am the branch," says Fatima's son respectfully. "I will only marry if you agree." #
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Rahana cries as she talks with traffickers from an Internet hut in Thae Chaung village on January 29, 2015. Rahana, a 32-year-old Rohingya, has already sent $1,100 to the trafficker who is holding her 12-year-old son ransom at a camp along the Thailand-Malaysia border. The trafficker wants another $300 before he will release the boy. "Let me speak to my son," Rahana tells the trafficker. A few seconds pass, then a small voice says, "Mum?" Rahana's eyes fill with tears. "I will send the money," she assures her son. "Then they will let you go." #
Minzayar/Reuters
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