Caroline (Intern) / Kantarawaddy Times
With the sound of a single explosion, his entire world fell into darkness. When he regained consciousness, all he could see was pitch-black darkness. From that day on, it became impossible for him to ever see light again.
“It was around 11 p.m. that night. After setting off the first mine, while getting ready to set off another, it exploded. At the moment it exploded, the only thing I remember was a flash of fire. I don’t remember anything else. When I regained consciousness, I was already in the hospital, and my family members were by my side.”
The person recounting this story is 30-year-old An Paraw So. He is a mine clearance member of the Karenni Army (KA). On November 15, 2024, during intense clashes in the Moebye–Pekhon area, an explosion occurred while he was planting mines, causing him to lose his eyesight.
According to doctors, there is still a possibility that he may regain vision in his left eye if he undergoes a corneal transplant. However, his right eye will require a prosthetic eye. Because of this, although uncertain and unclear, An Paraw So still clings to a small hope to this day.
He can still clearly hear the chirping of birds outside the room and the voices of people talking, but those sounds become nothing more than noise to him now. After losing the light in both of his eyes, the world itself became meaningless for him.
In the past, An Paraw So was someone who cleared landmines for revolutionary forces and civilians. It was work he once carried out with his own eyes. But now, he has reached a point where someone else must even scoop rice onto his plate for him. Living like this has become something that makes him feel like a burden, he confessed.
“Sometimes when other people go out, I want to go with them too. But my movements are so slow that I’m afraid I’ll become a burden to them. That’s why I don’t go,” he said.
He no longer leaves his room. Even if he goes outside, he cannot see anything anymore, so he no longer sees any reason to go out. Because of that, he says he keeps himself confined within his small room.
The comrade life he once deeply loved has now become something he can only speak of as the past. Even when he mentions words like “battalion” or “unit,” the phrase “back in those days” automatically accompanies his speech.
“If something had to happen, it could have been something else. Why did it have to be my eyes? I feel so sad because of that. My spirit has fallen so low,” he said.
A young man who once lived freely, who could go wherever he wanted and do whatever he wished, a young man who threw himself wholeheartedly into the revolution and tried with all his strength to resist the military dictatorship until the end, now that young man has been consumed by depression and feelings of inferiority.
The only hope left for him is corneal transplant treatment. That is why he still waits and clings to that hope. Yet because that hope remains uncertain and unclear, it has also become a tiring hope that exhausts him as he continues waiting.
“Back then, when I could see, life was easier. Now my eyes are the problem. Eating is difficult, everything is exhausting, and I suffer because I can no longer provide for myself. It would be good if my eyes could be treated. Sometimes I think too much and feel depressed,” An Paraw So also shared.
“If my eyes could recover, it would be so good.” During the conversation with the writer, An Paraw So repeated this sentence again and again. Inside those words lies his deep desire to see light once more, but also a hidden fear that he dares not fully believe in that possibility.
Yet even though he now lives in darkness, somewhere deep inside An Paraw So’s heart, the light of hope is still alive.
