Eighty percent of the population of Karenni State is uprooted, scattered by the relentless bombing and attacks of the Burma army. They are internally displaced, adrift within their own homeland, facing a crisis largely ignored by the world.
Across Burma, an estimated four million people have been forced from their homes by the ongoing conflict. The United Nations World Food Programme warns that twelve million will face acute hunger by 2026, with one million facing starvation. Yet, aid remains tragically out of reach.
Almost no international assistance penetrates the resistance-controlled territories where the vast majority of these displaced people struggle to survive. Government-to-government aid is nonexistent, leaving communities to fend for themselves against overwhelming odds.
Inside a makeshift camp, a church service unfolds beneath a plastic tarp – a fragile beacon of faith amidst the devastation. The local church, despite its limited resources, strives to support the most vulnerable families, offering what little comfort it can.
This camp is just one of countless havens for the displaced, now housing a significant portion of the state’s population. Over three hundred people live in hastily constructed shelters of bamboo and plastic, their lives irrevocably altered.
Many fled their village just a mile and a half away, driven out by invading government forces who unleashed a wave of indiscriminate violence – rape and murder leaving scars that run deep. Though the resistance forces eventually reclaimed the area, returning home remains impossible.
The retreating army left a deadly legacy: a landscape riddled with landmines. Homes and places of worship were deliberately booby-trapped with tripwires and explosives, turning familiar spaces into silent killers. In 2024, UNICEF reported that over a quarter of explosive ordnance casualties were children.
The Karenni Nationalities Defence Force (KNDF) and the Karenni civilian government are determined to clear these liberated zones, but the task is monumental. The sheer volume of mines and unexploded ordnance could take years to remove, even under ideal conditions.
These are far from ideal conditions. International demining organizations generally avoid active war zones, leaving the KNDF to face this perilous challenge alone. Landmine detectors are prohibitively expensive and difficult to obtain, blocked by logistical hurdles and international restrictions.
The most advanced demining equipment costs tens of thousands of dollars – a sum far beyond the KNDF’s reach. They also lack the trained personnel necessary to safely and effectively clear the mines, a skill that demands specialized knowledge and experience.
One proposed solution involves sending KNDF soldiers abroad for training with international mine NGOs. However, this is complicated by the fact that most residents lack passports. Obtaining one requires venturing into government-controlled territory, risking arrest or forced conscription into the very army responsible for the devastation.
Life within the camp is a constant struggle for survival. Most of Karenni State lacks basic infrastructure – electricity, cell service, even Wi-Fi. Conditions in the camp are even more dire, with families forced to purchase and truck in water, despite having no income.
The UN, the World Food Programme, and most major donors avoid providing support to resistance-controlled areas, leaving the camp without consistent food rations. Residents rely on meager assistance from the Karenni civilian government and sporadic donations from individuals.
The Karenni civilian government, burdened by a lack of a tax base – nearly everyone requires aid – struggles to provide for its people. The church offers what it can, but its funds are limited to a few hundred dollars a month, sourced from private donors and informal channels.
The priest prioritizes the most desperate cases: single mothers with children, those on the brink of starvation. Even the surrounding farmland is privately owned, preventing the displaced from growing their own food, leaving them utterly dependent on outside help.
Families cook over open fires, but deforestation has left the area barren. Firewood must be purchased, adding another financial strain to an already unbearable situation, making daily life a relentless battle against hardship.
The UN recommends a minimum caloric intake equivalent to one sack of rice per month for displaced persons. In the best camps, families receive one sack per month. Here, families receive roughly one sack every three months, a stark illustration of the desperation they face.
Adding to the vulnerability, the camps lack UN protection and are regularly targeted by government air and drone strikes, a constant threat looming over those already stripped of everything. It’s a cruel irony that the statistics on displacement and hunger originate from the UN, yet the UN refuses to intervene.
While the Burma army freely imports ammunition, landmines, and drones from Russia and China, resistance forces are legally barred from acquiring even basic defensive technology like drone jammers and mine detectors. NGOs, claiming to provide relief, avoid war zones, offering assistance only to those who flee the country.
The result is a tragic paradox: those who need help the most are the ones who receive the least. The people of Karenni State are caught in a web of conflict, neglect, and indifference, their fate hanging in the balance.
