for Laiza

LAIZA, Kachin State — Nestled in a narrow river valley in northern Myanmar, Laiza looks like any other sleepy rural town at first. A small stream divides the Kachin settlement in two and demarcates the Myanmar-China border. On the other side, China’s red national flag flies over many of the buildings.

In mid-January, shops here were open and people calmly went about their daily business; some warmed themselves in the sun after a cold night in the mountain town. But closer inspection quickly revealed that it was the center of a conflict zone; many inhabitants carried weapons, schools were closed and some families were packing up and leaving.

Laiza is home to the headquarters of the Kachin Independence Army

By STEvE TiCKnEr

(KIA) and its political wing the Kachin Independence Organization (KIO). It was developed as an administrative and commercial center for rebel-controlled parts of Kachin State following the KIO’s 1994 ceasefire with Myanmar’s central government.

The Kachin, a largely Christian minority of around 1.3 million people, have fought a decades-long rebellion against the government over their demands for political autonomy within a federal system and better protection of ethnic groups’ rights in the Constitution. Naypyitaw has rejected these demands and seeks full control over economic interests, such as jade mining and hydropower dams, in the state.

The festering disagreements led to growing tensions that were further exacerbated by the KIA’s refusal in 2010 to join a Border Guard Force under government command. In June 2011, the ceasefire collapsed and the KIA and Myanmar’s military— also called the Tatmadaw—went to war.

In mid-December 2012 the war escalated and the Tatmadaw began deploying helicopter gunships and jet fighters to attack Kachin rebel positions in the forested, low-lying mountains. The military made significant advances and by mid-January its forces made a concerted push to encircle Laiza and bring its artillery within firing range of the town.

This was the situation when I arrived in Laiza. Yet, the townspeople remained calm in the face of the looming threat. But as I sat down for a bowl of noodles at around 8 am on a sunny but cool morning on Jan. 14, a heavy thud suddenly rocked central Laiza, followed by another one about one minute later.

The Tatmadaw had fired two artillery shells into a central Laiza’s Hka Chyang quarter. The first round struck several civilians warming themselves around a fire. As I rushed to the nearby scene, I could see that the victims were only meters from a recently dug bunker when the shell exploded.

Nhkum Bawk Naw, a man his 50s, who was standing around the fire at the time of the explosion, was fatally injured. His wife Nang Zing Roi Ji sustained severe shrapnel wounds to her back. Sau Nam, 38, and her twoyear-old son Jang Ma Bawk San, were less seriously injured.

“I heard a whooshing sound of an incoming shell, grabbed my child and threw myself to the ground. Then there was a large explosion and a lot of smoke and dust,” Sau Nam recalled later at Laiza’s small hospital.

The second shell exploded near a wooden house, killing elderly church deacon Malang Yaw Htung and a 15-year-old boy named Hpauyu La.

A 10-year-old girl Langjaw Nu Ja was seriously injured in her lower body.

The incident drew reactions from international rights groups and Western countries, but the Tatmadaw remained silent on the events. President U Thein Sein’s spokesman U Ye Htut denied that the military was involved in the incident.

In spite of such unsettling events, the people of Laiza remained remarkably calm. There was no panic or mass evacuation, although business was clearly muted. Mayor Naw Awn showed a stoic confidence in an interview following the first-ever direct attack on his town.

“We were prepared because the Myanmar side had warned they would do this,” he said. “We have educated the townspeople how to behave and stay safe.” After two years, we are used to war so really there isn’t too much effect or fear,” the mayor added.

Despite this composed reaction among the besieged Kachin in Laiza, I later learned how deep such incidents cut into their lives.

The killed teenager Hpauyu La was a student at Laiza High School and his two close friends in class 9A, Nkhum Tu Shan, 18, and Hpauyam Doi Bu, 15, described him as a popular, enthusiastic student.

“He loved listening to music, and he enjoyed singing and playing his guitar,” Tu Shan said during an interview on Feb.1. “He was a good, kind person who would always support his friends when they had troubles,” added Doi Bu.

“When Hpauy La died I and his other friends felt very bad as we were all close,” said Doi Bu, adding that Hpauy La’s father had died from illness last year and his mother and sister had now fled to China.

After a while Tu Shan revealed that he not only lost his best friend that week, but also a family member. “My father was killed in an air attack by the

Myanmar army on [the KIA’s] Hkaya Bum outpost on Jan. 16,” he said with great sadness.

After the incident, Laiza sustained no more attacks. But continuous government air and artillery assaults on rebel posts less than 6 miles (10 km) away created a rumbling sound in the town, like a distant thunder, providing the civilians with a constant reminder of the nearby war.

While the fighting terrified Laiza’s civilians, violence also engulfed other parts of Kachin. Across the state at least 75,000 villagers were displaced by the war and live in camps, according to UN estimates.

On Jan. 15, I made the first of several visits to the frontline in the Lajayang area and to the strategically important Hkaya Bum mountain top. Both areas were key defense positions for the KIA, a lightly-armed force of several thousand fighters.

On my visit to Naw Hpyu post that day jet aircraft could be seen pounding Hkaya Bum outpost just a few miles away, while an occasional artillery shell would fall on the range we occupied and sporadic gunfire drifted up from the valley below.

In the following days the Myanmar government would attack—and eventually conquer—several KIA posts guarding Lajayang, a hilly area at the end of a narrow river valley that forms a southern gateway to Laiza.