The quiet resolve of Myanmar’s communities across Mandalay and Sagaing

‎Stepping into Mandalay and Sagaing for the first time, the newly deployed Resident and Humanitarian Coordinator ad interim Gwyn Lewis found a region shaped by upheaval but sustained by people who continue to help one another. Darkened streets, fractured buildings, roadblocks, and families carrying the weight of both conflict and the recent earthquake spoke louder than words. Yet through these hardships were the quiet, determined resolve of those still helping people and communities survive.

Electricity flickers in and out across Mandalay, plunging entire streets into brief darkness before lights hum back again against the noise of generators. By early evening the city has already begun to quiet; by 9PM, the roads thin to a faint trickle of motorbikes. In daylight, the marks of recent upheaval are even clearer. Earthquake-damaged buildings sit behind barriers. An older, perhaps once-busy bridge that connects to Sagaing lies in collapse next to its newer counterpart, cutting through the riverbank like a scar.

Across Mandalay, the scale of displacement is evident. Families – many with young children and elderly relatives – fled conflict from the north and northwest states and regions of Myanmar, only to be uprooted once again when the March 2025 earthquake struck. The Northwest region consists of Mandalay, Sagaing, Magway Regions and Chin State and is home to the largest number of Internally Displaced People (IDPs) in the country, estimated at 1.7 million people.

Outside a temporary shelter in the Mandalay area, with a pagoda glimmering behind them, a group of women gathered with Ms. Lewis for a conversation. They are shy at first, but once the first story is shared, each come forward to talk.

Accounts of overcrowding in the shelters with no electricity, of unsafe water that calcifies in metal pots, and how after long hours of labour and working sometimes till 10PM at night, they earn 8,000 Kyat per day (2 USD). One woman explains that she cares for six family members, including a disabled mother and a sick child. There are no medical services here, no clinic nearby, and no money to travel. Another used to work on plantations but here she has no land, no tools, no way to start again. A 70-year-old woman who has heath care needs sits beside her grandchildren, describing the cost of getting to Mandalay for treatment, 50,000 Kyat (around 12 USD) each way in a tuk-tuk. For many, the journey to safety drained everything. Several had paid 5–6 million Kyat (between 1,200 – 1,500 USD) to escape from Bhamo in Kachin State, and many sold their belongings one by one until nothing was left, to make the journey to safety.

Children were nearby, listening to the stories: a 12-year-old girl whose body still carries scars from an aerial strike, and an eight-month-old baby born during the family’s flight from conflict. Beginning as strangers, here they’ve learned to lean on each other and become a family.

When Ms. Lewis asked if they would return home if they could, the answer is immediate and unanimous: yes. Even with homes destroyed. Even without savings. If we could go back, we would, said one woman. They only asked for help with transportation and food support, just enough to rebuild what was lost.

In both Mandalay and Sagaing, neighbourhoods were left in destruction following the March 2025 earthquake, and some can still be seen today. Many suffered injuries as they tried to escape. Walking through the destroyed neighbourhoods, past collapsed homes, cracked walls, and remnants of daily life scattered in the rubble, it was a stark reminder of what families had not just lost, but the abrupt rupture of normalcy. This devastation sits side by side with the extraordinary efforts of religious leaders, volunteers, and civil society groups who have carved out pockets of safety in an environment where little feels secure. Their courage is what keeps the humanitarian response alive.

But while resilience is abundant, resources are not.

Across Myanmar, shrinking global funding and tightening access constraints leave all aid and development actors, including the United Nations, struggling to keep pace with growing needs. Meeting people’s immediate survival needs is only one part of the picture; communities also require the means to rebuild, to restore livelihoods, and to regain stability after years of upheaval. These two realities cannot be separated. Meeting them requires more than separate responses; it requires agencies and partners working together so people are not left surviving one crisis only to fall into the next. For now, it is dedicated local partners and religious networks who shoulder much of the burden, keeping people afloat where they can. But their commitment, as extraordinary as it is, cannot replace the broader access, support, and protection that the international community must help secure.

Reflecting on these encounters, Ms. Lewis said: “Meeting families who have endured both conflict and disaster give me a deeper understanding of the scale of hardship people in Myanmar have faced and still continue to face every day. But it also shows the extraordinary commitment of our colleagues, local partners, and religious networks who support them with so little. These communities have strength, but strength alone cannot replace safety, dignity, or hope. They deserve far more than the world has given them so far.”

In the fading light of the day, amid checkpoints, shattered buildings, and the determined steps of those still making their rounds, a sentiment hangs in the air long after the conversations have ended: “You being here makes us feel like we are not forgotten” – a reminder of why global solidarity matters.