Rights, justice and action through the eyes of women in Myanmar

In a Myanmar reshaped by political upheaval and crisis, the concepts of rights, and justice show up in daily life in complicated and deeply personal ways. 

For three women – a journalist, an art curator, and a disability rights advocate – those words carry personal meanings, and they are redefining what action looks like.

This year’s International Women’s Day theme, “Rights. Justice. Action. For All Women and Girls”, lands in a Myanmar reshaped by crisis, where these ideas often carry quieter, more complicated meanings for women living inside the country. For Su Htwe, a 34-year-old art curator, founder of Kalasa Gallery and a focusing oriented and expressive art facilitator, thinking about rights begins with the more personal question of how women see themselves. 

“Most Myanmar women live behind expectations… behind the cultural, family and society norm and expectations. We have this framing, this image of what a Myanmar woman should be, and we live in that kind of identity that is made for us”, she says.

In today’s Myanmar, she explains, women are expected to be everything at once: strong, resilient, leading, nurturing, enduring. In the process, many lose space to acknowledge vulnerability, viewing it as weakness. Cultural expectations remain powerful, especially beyond urban areas, shaping what a “good” woman should tolerate and how she should behave.

Su Htwe’s reflections are shaped in part by her own experiences growing up. “I grew up in a domestic violence family. They loved each other, but domestic violence was very prevalent,” she says. The experience left her deeply cautious about relationships. When she eventually chose to marry her husband, she did so on her own terms with open communication about her expectations, not bound by traditional and cultural norms. 

“I don’t believe women have to follow men. Sometimes he leads. Sometimes I lead. Its balance”, she says, 

Her art gallery, planted as an idea in 2016 and launched just before COVID-19, evolved into more than an exhibition space. After the pandemic and the military takeover disrupted both business and long-term plans, she turned inward, drawing on her background in psychology and integrating it with art therapy. 

In 2022, she began offering art therapy and self-expression sessions, creating a safe space for women to explore trauma, heal, reclaim their identities and emotion they have been taught to supress. “In my programme, I try to break this pattern,” she says. “I ask them: who are you? what do you want to be? what is your passion? what is your own identity?”

Hope, she says, no longer comes from sweeping political change. Instead, she looks to adaptability. For her, resilience is not about endlessly carrying a burden but about learning to move around obstacles, much like water that shifts course when it meets resistance. 

Across the city, rights take on a different meaning for a 40-year-old journalist still working inside Myanmar. Speaking on condition of anonymity, she describes a profession where every assignment carries risk. 

When she hears the theme Rights. Justice. Action, she says she believes these are urgent priorities but cannot help feeling that the words risk remaining symbolic. “I feel we are still painfully far from a reality where women and girls can genuinely experience and enjoy those rights. It is deeply disheartening”, said the journalist.

Security concerns now shape every aspect of her work. “Every time I pass through a checkpoint, I feel a deep sense of insecurity, especially at the thought that the contents of my phone could be inspected,” she explains. 

Journalists are in contact with a wide range of organizations and individuals, and those connections can be misinterpreted, with serious consequences for her and her contacts. Since 2021, she has been unable to publish under her own name, surrendering a byline and a reputation she had built for more than a decade. 

Choosing to remain in Myanmar meant sacrificing recognition, because in a country where safety is fragile, working as a journalist carries risks. “It has been a painful sacrifice,” she admits. 

Yet she continues her work because she believes documenting the realities on the ground in her words, knowing that the world is still reading what is happening in Myanmar, is essential. At the same time, she says injustice and gender inequality often begin closer to home.

“In Myanmar society, sons often receive more priority and opportunity from parents,” she says, explaining that when resources are limited, opportunities often go to boys first. “In many families, daughters are expected to do household work, while sons are not even expected to wash the plates they use.” 

These patterns, she says, shape women’s sense of opportunity long before they enter public life because there is the assumption that women must tolerate more, endure more, give more, and these patterns, normalized over generations, shape women’s confidence. To this day, political leadership in Myanmar remains overwhelmingly male and even as women make up a significant portion of those displaced by conflict, meaningful and equal participation in peace processes remains limited.

If Su Htwe’s work addresses emotional healing and the journalist’s work documents structural imbalance, Theint Theint Thu focuses on barriers that are both physical and systemic.

For the 33-year-old disability rights advocate, Action means leaving no one behind.

Before her disability, she worked as a healthcare professional and was an avid hiker, her movements unrestricted. Today, accessibility shapes her daily life. “I encounter obstacles even inside my house,” she says. 

Beyond physical barriers, women with disabilities in Myanmar, particularly those in conflict-affected areas, face layered challenges, including limited access to information, education, technology and employment opportunities. 

“I see women and girls being left behind most in access to education and technology. Some still struggle with basic tasks during online meetings, like muting or unmuting their audio,” she says, highlighting broader gaps in digital literacy.

Remote work, which could reduce mobility barriers, remains scarce. Meaningful action, she argues, would include direct creation of employment and educational opportunities tailored to women with disabilities, especially remote job options and digital training. 

It was through disability networks that Theint Theint Thu found a way to connect to a wider community and first felt a profound sense of solidarity. “When I connected with the Myanmar Women with Disabilities Network, I realised: I am not alone.” she says. Her long-term goal is to ensure that women with disabilities are not only heard but actively involved in shaping decisions that affect their lives. 

One theme recurs within these stories: women supporting each other. Their stories reflect a quiet determination: to heal, to speak, to include, and to lift others with them. While the path forward may not always be clear, women across Myanmar continue to find new ways to adapt, to support one another, and to create spaces where possibility can take root. 

Their journeys remind us that hope is not only found in dramatic change. It grows in everyday acts of courage, creativity, and connection. And through these everyday acts, the future becomes something women can continue shaping, together.