“We Had Nothing but Hope”

When Sultan* fled his village in Rakhine State, Myanmar, he wasn’t running toward something—he was running away from violence that had consumed his community.

“They burned our houses, they raped our mothers and sisters in front of us,” he said quietly.

“They told us, ‘This is not your country—you belong to Bangladesh.’” 

In 2017, with no home to return to and no safety in sight, he and his family fled into the jungle. They survived for more than a week with no food or shelter, eventually making their way to the coast in hopes of crossing into Bangladesh.

The journey on foot took six days, all while dodging gunfire from military and armed groups. 

When they were finally allowed in, local communities offered immediate help—food, clothing, and shelter on the streets. But the welcome was brief.

Soon, they were relocated to the camps in Cox’s Bazar, where Sultan began to understand the challenges of displacement wouldn’t end at the border. 

Sultan had been a student back in Myanmar—he’d completed his matriculation exams and had tried to pursue higher education, but his Rohingya identity barred him from universities.

In the camp, he resumed his advocacy work, pushing for education and rights for his people. But his activism came with a price.

“They started targeting me. I was working with an organisation in the camp, and my friend called me one day and said, ‘Hide. They’re looking for you,’” he said.

“Then they came for my father. They called his name outside our shelter. When he answered the door, they stabbed him. We couldn’t even get him to the hospital in time.” 

Stricken with sadness and fear after he lost his father, Sultanknew he had to leave. In December 2022, he paid a human trafficker and boarded a boat leaving from Cox’s Bazar.

What followed was a journey that tested the limits of human endurance. After a week at sea, they had run out of food and water. Then the fuel ran out, and the engine stopped. 

An Indian navy vessel spotted their boat but kept its distance at first. Sultan, who spoke Hindi, pleaded for help.

“I told them we had no fuel, no food, no water. That people were dying,” he said.

“They gave us a little fuel and snacks—but said they couldn’t take us in.” 

That small supply kept them moving for five more days, before the engine failed again. With nothing but tarpaulin and bamboo, they built a makeshift sail.

“For ten more days we drifted,” he said.

“Two children died. We told the others they were sleeping—because if they lost hope, we all would.” 

Eventually, a shape appeared on the horizon. A mountain. Land. They had reached Indonesia.

“When we arrived, local people gave us water and medicine. Then UNHCR and IOM came. For the first time, we felt safe,” he said. 

Since arriving in Indonesia in early 2023, Sultan has focused on rebuilding his life—and giving back. He is the Co-Founder and Executive Director of the Rohingya Refugee Association in Indonesia (RRAI), a refugee-led organisation working to elevate the voices and rights of Rohingya communities.

RRAI is one of seven refugee-led organisations supported under the Protection of Refugees in Asia (PRiA) programme, through grants designed to help RLOs develop and lead their own research and advocacy efforts, supported by continuous mentoring. 

Under this initiative, RRAI recently carried out research to identify and better understand the barriers preventing Rohingya refugees in Aceh and Pekanbaru from accessing education and skills development opportunities.

The findings will not only help shape RRAI’s own programming but also strengthen local and regional advocacy for refugee inclusion in education. 

Sultan is now focused on finishing his bachelor’s degree and dreams of pursuing a Master’s in the future. But education is not just a personal dream—it’s a mission.

“In Myanmar, we were denied education because of who we are, I want to change that. I want our children to have a future. I will do everything I can for my community.” 

He knows the road ahead is uncertain—Indonesia is not a signatory to the 1951 Refugee Convention, and long-term prospects are limited. But Sultanremains committed to advocating for the rights of people.