Life as a refugee

Last chapter was about how my life as a Rohingyan is and about the Rohingyan community. As always like the title says ,i will talk about how life has treated me as a refugee.

During my single digit age I didn't get bullied for being a Rohingyan, Since i was raised in Bangladesh. Bengalis are super chill about it, so i didn't have much problem.

Back then my young mind has a very nice view of human beings. And that was changed when I had to move to Malaysia( where i currently live) with my family.

The first year in Malaysia was pretty dope, being in a completely different surrounding and different cultures, made me extremely excited. Our neighbors were pretty nice, but i still couldn't make a single friend because kids were rarely seen because of school. My parents noticed my longing for a friend ,so they started to look for school for me and my siblings(so that we can get pur education and won't be lonely either).Finding a school where they accept refugees was no easy task, but eventually they found one (it took them months). I and my siblings were super excited about it, but the school was too far from our house even with a transportation So, we moved to somewhere closer to our school. It took us few days to stale in ,eventually we did.

Our days were peaceful until one night ,when we were having dinner we heard a bang sound from the the front door.My father went to check, but there was no one except some malay kids playing in front of our house. So my father came back in, and the again we heard a bang as if someone was throwing stones at our door.And guess what it was the kids! They wre throwing stones at our door!

We couldn't do anything since we were refugees! The next morning, we talked one of our neighbor about the disturbance the night before. And the lady just laughed and said yhe kids were just playing around and that she will ask them to stop since we weren't comfortable.

Things were pretty calm at night after talking with the neighbor, untill someone stole my brother's bike! Can you believe it?! And we couldn't do anything since we didn't have any idea who did it?

Once my sister and i went to throw away our garbage and on the way back some kids started to throw pebbles at us. One of them said "just go away from our country!" and kept hitting us , I and my sister Screamed stop but they didn't. And i lost it, i said a bad word( not very bad since my malay was horrible). They stopped and all of a sudden a guy ,who was around 17 slaped me saying i was rude and told me to get lost. I was furious because he saw them hitting was but didn't stopped them but when i fought back i was slaped and scolded. What kind of justice was that ? Is it because we were refugees?

Those thoughts were running in my head with tears in my eyes.

Since then I try not to go out as much as possible. Sometimes i will still run into them and when they bully me K just stay quiet till they let me go. There was no point in fighting back because they wre right, we should just go away from their country but we couldn't because we have no other choice.

Thank you for reading, plus do share your thoughts in the comments!

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