A day at the beach for displaced Rohingya children in Malaysia

Langkawi, Malaysia – At a small beach on the island of Langkawi, a group of children laugh and play, enjoying the sun and gentle waves. Some build sandcastles, and others play on the nearby swing set. A small group are busy finding shells and collecting them to present to their teacher.

All of the children are Rohingya refugees. Some were born in Malaysia, and others arrived by boat after fleeing persecution and violence in Myanmar. Arafat Mohammad supervises his students with a smile. He recalls that it was not so long ago that they were all too afraid to step onto the sand, let alone wade into the water.

“The children used to be so frightened when they saw the sea. They always heard from their parents that the sea is dangerous, the sea is where their relatives died during their boat journeys,” Arafat said. “So the children have trauma. They believe that if they go to the beach, they will die. By coming here, I am trying to show them the beach is where they can play, and the sea is not only a place of death.”

Arafat arrived in Langkawi in 2013. He had been working as a teacher in Myanmar. “By 2012, the Burmese military had already set fire to many of the villages where Rohingya people lived. They were doing it systematically, what they called ‘cleansing the villages’,” he said. “People were so frightened. In front of our eyes, babies were killed. Women were raped.”

Arafat said he had been involved in assisting victims of sexual assault by the military to report their situation to nongovernmental organisations (NGOs) and request medical treatment. As a result of his involvement with humanitarian organisations, he said he was targeted by the military. “The military surrounded my house, they took everything, even my books,” he said.

Arafat left Myanmar by boat. When he arrived in Malaysia, he found informal work in the hotel sector. But he soon felt compelled to begin teaching once again after realising the Rohingya children in his new community had no access to education. “I called the parents and tried to convince them of the importance of education, and that it is a basic right for children. One by one, the children started to come to school,” he said.

Arafat now has 34 students, aged between five and 12. Parents pay a small fee to cover the costs, and the school is also supported by local NGOs. “I teach the children English, mathematics, social studies and science. The lessons also include the importance of hygiene, how to be respectful and show good manners,” Arafat said.

“Malaysia has given us shelter. We are grateful to the Malaysian people. I appreciate that there are many different ethnicities in Malaysia, but here they respect, they don’t hate. I want the children to learn that too.”

Malaysia is not a signatory to the 1951 Refugee Convention or its 1967 Protocol. Refugees do not have legal status to work or study, but many are able to find informal jobs. This often means that some of the parents are unable to regularly pay their school fees, though. “I tell the parents: Don’t feel ashamed. Either way, the children should keep learning, whether they pay or not,” he said.

“Some of the children are already almost teenagers and they still cannot read because they have never studied before. I tell them, that’s OK, we will start with the alphabet, at the very beginning. If they can read and write, perhaps they can have a better future.”