'I was tortured and sexually harassed' - former Myanmar political prisoners speak out about life in jail

Copyright: Bartosz Hadyniak

With 275 political prisoners including the two Reuters journalists accused of obtaining state secrets still behind bars in Myanmar, in 2018 I spoke to several women who were locked away for their activism in the former military-controlled state

“I was handcuffed and blindfolded with a hood over me and made to sit on my knees for 10 days,” recalls San San Ma, rewinding the clock back to March 2008 when the activist was arrested by the then military-ruled government for political crimes such as housing revolutionary soldiers and students.

“As soon as I was arrested I was sent to a military intelligence office that was famous for brutality,” she says. San San Ma, now 45, was interrogated for more than a month, each time in complete darkness.

“They sexually harassed me. I had to kneel for many hours and crawl on little rocks – if they were angry they would beat me. They were trying to make me confess but I never did.” 

The beatings only stopped when she started to fall ill. “I was vomiting blood so then they called a doctor. He realised how tortured I was and requested that they stop it - and to give me food.”

The harrowing torture ended but she was sent to a special military court, known for its harsher sentences, than a standard civil court. There she was sentenced to 65 years in jail; the same as her husband.

“There were a lot of unfair charges,” she tells me in a humid small office of a human rights organisation in Yangon. “But when I was younger my grandmother always used to say, 'politics is about time. Next time it is someone else's time. Now you win, tomorrow you will lose'. I totally believed that, that's why I managed to stay calm in prison.”

The sentence devastated her family. She quietly explains that when her mother found out she was being sent to the infamous Insein Prison in Yangon, “she passed out”, and died shortly afterwards.

San San Ma saw her husband, living on other side of the prison, for 20 minutes every two weeks. They were both released after six years as part of a prisoner amnesty.

Myanmar has a long history of jailing political activists. Even now, two years after Aung San Suu Kyi and the National League for Democracy (NLD) took control, the government has continued to arrest and imprison people who speak out against the regime. Reuters journalists Wa Lone and Kyaw Soe Oo were imprisoned for seven years in September after reporting on the Rohingya crisis.

When military intelligence officers turned up to arrest Kyi Kyi Htay in 2000 for aiding opposition political groups, she swore to her husband that she wouldn't confess anything. As a result, the then 34-year-old endured days of brutal torture. “I couldn't even pee,” she says. “They hit that part of the body, it was so brutal. Each officer would get half an hour each to ask me questions and then beat me. Once their session was finished, they would go back to sleep. I was so tired and would fall asleep sometimes but whenever I feel asleep, they would beat me to wake me up and throw water at me.”

She lost count of how many days she was tortured for but her silence saved lives.

“I didn't confess anything. That way it meant I could save 12 people from going to prison for 10 to 15 years,” she says. “I was beaten up a lot as I didn't share any information. Another guy I knew who had also been arrested gave away some information so they knew I was lying but I made it.”

By the time she was imprisoned – for 15 years for crimes such as communicating with blacklisted organisations – her body was swollen from the continual beatings. But life in the notorious Insein prison, known for its unsanitary and inhumane living conditions, on the outskirts of Yangon was unbearable.

“I cried a lot when I arrived at prison,” recalls Kyi Kyi Htay, who at 12 helped send secret letters between people in opposition groups throughout her village. “It was so dirty. The sheets were so dirty and smelly. You were not allowed to read. You couldn't communicate with your family.” There were no dedicated toilets for in-mates. “You had to use a container and throw it [in a bag] every time. I couldn't bear it anymore. I was depressed there. But I didn't have any regrets because I was doing the right thing.”

After leaving, many former political prisoners face long-term impact such as difficulties finding work and mental health issues.

Galuh Wandita, director of Asia Justice and Rights (AJAR), a human rights organisation which published a report earlier this year on the lives of women survivors of conflict and oppression including political prisoners in Yangon, says the experience of arrest and detention deeply disrupted the education and livelihoods of women. “Many women were arrested as students in the 1980s and 1990s. With many universities closed in the 1990s, these women often had no schools to return to after their release. Most had to abandon their educations.

Imprisonment also had devastating impacts on the economic situation of female political prisoners and their families. Detainees’ families have faced constant surveillance and were often forced to close their businesses. This pushed many political prisoners and their families into poverty. Following their release family members often exerted great pressure on women to give up their political activities and focus on supporting the families economic survival. Some women faced marital difficulties while others were forced to rely on relatives for their survival.”

Kyi Kyi Htay who lived in the notorious prison for nine years until she was released in 2009, says life on the outside has been challenging. “I had no clothes to wear. I didn't have any place to stay. I stayed with my cousin's family. Financially I've not been ok – I've not been able to get a job. I cannot even apply for a job. No companies or organisations want to employ me because I was a political prisoner.”

Unfortunately she was unable to slide back into family life.

“I went back to my home town but my little daughter didn't remember me.” She says, sadly, that she is no longer with her husband. “My husband's family didn't want him to be with me. They feel their son was in prison because of me - he follows what his family says.” Her daughter lives with her ex husband in Yangon.

San San Ma says that once she and her husband were released they encountered multiple issues. They could no longer return home because the authorities had seized it. While they set to be initially housed by her brother-in-law, he received a call from friends telling him it was unsafe to house former political prisoners. “So even after a few hours we were on the road again, luckily one of our friends brought us to their house outside of Yangon.”

She says mental and physical health issues have made it even more difficult to find work. Her husband found a job as an editor as a local newspaper but problems arising from being beaten up meant he needed to lie down in bed for as much as 20 hours a day for several months. “His right eye was beaten up so much, he couldn't work on his writing so much.”

San San Ma decided to open a small grocery store. “But when my husband got sick, I got depressed, and was in bed for eight months. My little daughter working at a garment factory was dependent on me.” She now relies on her husband who earns 200,000 kwat (£101) a month from his job researching and writing articles.

Seeking justice, the women urge the government to recognise their suffering and that the perpetrators apologise, says Wandita.

“There is unfortunately still a lack of governmental recognition or support for former political prisoners,” says Wandita. “The government has not yet accepted a definition of political prisoner, and has quashed efforts to put the topic on the agenda for parliamentary debate.”

She believes that women political prisoners need specialised services that deal with health, trauma, and economic empowerment. “They need assistance, access to basic services, and psychosocial support to address the consequences of violence, and to help them get back on their feet. There needs to be schemes for job creation, vocational training, and micro-finance assistance in order to increase survivors' access to livelihood and capital.”

Kyi Kyi Htay wishes she could slot the missing jigsaw pieces of her life back together again. “I feel so sad. I lost everything. I have given everything and lost everything for what I'm passionate about. I am jobless, but I have friends and I travel around. But I never regret it as I was doing it for the people.”

Looking ahead, she wants systematic change. “We have a situation where people and families have split up and sacrificed their lives and opportunities. Now the government is open and the NLD has gained power...they should take responsibility, admit what they’ve done and apologise for it. It's assumed to be a transparent time in Myanmar but it's not happening. I don't want anything for myself, I just want my country to change.”

Article written in 2018.