By Alice Nah
OCT 18 – Her eyes are empty as she stares into the distance. She balances a child on her body, wrapped in a sarong. His eyes are lively, piercing, looking directly at us. He leans forward, engaging with us, while all she wants to do, it seems, is disappear. She looks numb – tired of pain, fear, insecurity – it is clear she does not want to be here.
Next to her is a woman with glistening eyes. She looks worried, harried, preoccupied. Her child lies behind her on a makeshift bed, sick with malaria. They live in a basic wooden hut, afraid of the police, unable to afford medical care.
At least she still has her child. Next to her is the portrait of another woman in a jungle camp, whose desperate features tell us of the deep wounds in her soul. We are told that she was catatonic and traumatized when she first arrived. She lost her entire family while fleeing from Burma to Malaysia – she lost her children while crossing a river.
These are some of the refugees that photojournalist Halim Berbar has encountered. In another photograph, he captured a group of women praying fervently before a sickly boy. The caption reads: “A group of women pray in the jungle camp for a boy who was stricken with malaria. The boy passed away a few days after this photo was taken.”
Halim Berbar’s photos are on display at the Annexe, part of an exhibition of the work of five photographers entitled “No Refuge: Burmese Refugees in Malaysia”. Each photographer highlights different angles to the complex lives of refugees trying to survive in a hostile environment. Together they weave a compelling visual narrative of pain and loss, desperation and hope.
Simon Wheatley’s collection focuses on the complexities and ironies of urban life – the strange mix of loneliness with overcrowding, the tensions that arise while socializing in enclosed spaces, the (dis)comfort caused by the sharing of run-down apartments, made necessary by expensive rent, meager pay and unstable jobs.
In one of his photos, feet pile upon feet as people sleep close together in order to save rent. In another, a pregnant woman sits silent and alone, lost in her thoughts, while on the other side of the wall, a man sits looking just a lost. In another photo, a crowd gathers around the body of a man killed by a local gangster and abandoned on the street. They look distressed. Newspapers are strewn haphazardly over his body, covering him only partially.
Greg Constantine’s photos show the immediacy of the risks that refugees face. Without legal status in Malaysia, they are arrested regularly through Rela and Immigration raids. His photos show raids in progress – Rela officers demanding for identity papers, scared refugees locked in vehicles ready to be transported to detention centres.
He captures the bleak desperation felt by those separated from their family members arrested in raids. He has a photo of a photo of a man with scarred buttocks. The permanent welt caused by the tremendous power of a thick cane will remain with him for life, a constant reminder of the punishment given to those who dare to seek refuge in Malaysia.
Rahman Roslan shows the uncertainties and dangers of working at night markets. In one photo, a woman looks on helplessly as local authorities confiscate the vegetables she intended to sell. Replacing her stock is expensive. Hers are the cry of any mother: “Where can I get money? How can I feed my kids?”
Another photo shows the power-relations between uniformed officers conducting raids, their firm stance in stark contrast to a man pleading for leniency, his eyes wide open and hands gesturing to obtain their understanding. In another photo, a man stands alone, looking down, dejected.
Zhuang Wubin captures the experiences of children who live in an environment they do not fully understand. In one photo, a boy is angry at being awakened early in the morning. They need to go early to the UNHCR in order to board a plane to New Zealand. They are one of the fortunate few who will ever get resettled from Malaysia. He does not fully comprehend how this day will mark the beginning of a new life in a different world.
In other photos, children play games to pass time as they stay in urban apartments that double up as schools. It is safer to be indoors than on the street, for they too, can get arrested.
Wubin’s photos also show the significance of community life in affirming the worth of a person. Refugees come together to eat, to pray, to mourn, and to celebrate. They mark beginnings and endings in their lives together, lives unseen by most and made unworthy by some.
With great sensitivity and compassion, these five photographers show us the breadth and depth of the lives of refugees in Malaysia – their joys and sorrows, their longing and loss. They show us the tremendous courage and strength of spirit required for refugees to live every day without legal status and without the recognition and protection of the Malaysian government.
If you have the time, go to the Annexe Gallery at Central Market to witness the lives of the refugees who struggle to live amongst us. And if your heart compels you, sign the petition spearheaded by Suaram to call for Malaysia to sign the 1951 Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees. It is Malaysians who must call upon our government to protect the vulnerable. It begins with us.
“No Refuge” is jointly presented by Suaram and Annexe Gallery. It will be on display until Oct 25. Admission is free. A talk by photographers and activists will be held at 3pm on Sunday, Oct 18, to highlight the realities of the lives of refugees.
Next to her is a woman with glistening eyes. She looks worried, harried, preoccupied. Her child lies behind her on a makeshift bed, sick with malaria. They live in a basic wooden hut, afraid of the police, unable to afford medical care.
At least she still has her child. Next to her is the portrait of another woman in a jungle camp, whose desperate features tell us of the deep wounds in her soul. We are told that she was catatonic and traumatized when she first arrived. She lost her entire family while fleeing from Burma to Malaysia – she lost her children while crossing a river.
These are some of the refugees that photojournalist Halim Berbar has encountered. In another photograph, he captured a group of women praying fervently before a sickly boy. The caption reads: “A group of women pray in the jungle camp for a boy who was stricken with malaria. The boy passed away a few days after this photo was taken.”
Halim Berbar’s photos are on display at the Annexe, part of an exhibition of the work of five photographers entitled “No Refuge: Burmese Refugees in Malaysia”. Each photographer highlights different angles to the complex lives of refugees trying to survive in a hostile environment. Together they weave a compelling visual narrative of pain and loss, desperation and hope.
Simon Wheatley’s collection focuses on the complexities and ironies of urban life – the strange mix of loneliness with overcrowding, the tensions that arise while socializing in enclosed spaces, the (dis)comfort caused by the sharing of run-down apartments, made necessary by expensive rent, meager pay and unstable jobs.
In one of his photos, feet pile upon feet as people sleep close together in order to save rent. In another, a pregnant woman sits silent and alone, lost in her thoughts, while on the other side of the wall, a man sits looking just a lost. In another photo, a crowd gathers around the body of a man killed by a local gangster and abandoned on the street. They look distressed. Newspapers are strewn haphazardly over his body, covering him only partially.
Greg Constantine’s photos show the immediacy of the risks that refugees face. Without legal status in Malaysia, they are arrested regularly through Rela and Immigration raids. His photos show raids in progress – Rela officers demanding for identity papers, scared refugees locked in vehicles ready to be transported to detention centres.
He captures the bleak desperation felt by those separated from their family members arrested in raids. He has a photo of a photo of a man with scarred buttocks. The permanent welt caused by the tremendous power of a thick cane will remain with him for life, a constant reminder of the punishment given to those who dare to seek refuge in Malaysia.
Rahman Roslan shows the uncertainties and dangers of working at night markets. In one photo, a woman looks on helplessly as local authorities confiscate the vegetables she intended to sell. Replacing her stock is expensive. Hers are the cry of any mother: “Where can I get money? How can I feed my kids?”
Another photo shows the power-relations between uniformed officers conducting raids, their firm stance in stark contrast to a man pleading for leniency, his eyes wide open and hands gesturing to obtain their understanding. In another photo, a man stands alone, looking down, dejected.
Zhuang Wubin captures the experiences of children who live in an environment they do not fully understand. In one photo, a boy is angry at being awakened early in the morning. They need to go early to the UNHCR in order to board a plane to New Zealand. They are one of the fortunate few who will ever get resettled from Malaysia. He does not fully comprehend how this day will mark the beginning of a new life in a different world.
In other photos, children play games to pass time as they stay in urban apartments that double up as schools. It is safer to be indoors than on the street, for they too, can get arrested.
Wubin’s photos also show the significance of community life in affirming the worth of a person. Refugees come together to eat, to pray, to mourn, and to celebrate. They mark beginnings and endings in their lives together, lives unseen by most and made unworthy by some.
With great sensitivity and compassion, these five photographers show us the breadth and depth of the lives of refugees in Malaysia – their joys and sorrows, their longing and loss. They show us the tremendous courage and strength of spirit required for refugees to live every day without legal status and without the recognition and protection of the Malaysian government.
If you have the time, go to the Annexe Gallery at Central Market to witness the lives of the refugees who struggle to live amongst us. And if your heart compels you, sign the petition spearheaded by Suaram to call for Malaysia to sign the 1951 Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees. It is Malaysians who must call upon our government to protect the vulnerable. It begins with us.
“No Refuge” is jointly presented by Suaram and Annexe Gallery. It will be on display until Oct 25. Admission is free. A talk by photographers and activists will be held at 3pm on Sunday, Oct 18, to highlight the realities of the lives of refugees.
Photograph by Halim Berbar. A makeshift church that was burnt down during a RELA raid of a refugee camp. Burmese refugees were worshipping in the church when it was set on fire.
Photograph by Rahman Roslan. A Rohingya vegetable trader pleads to local authority's personnel for mercy during a raid in a market in Kuala Lumpur.
Photograph by Zhuang Wubin . Children from the Matu community play with their toys or have lunch in this low-cost apartment shared by around 30 Chin refugees. As Malaysia is not a signatory of the 1951 Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees, the children have no access to education, except for informal classes organized by NGOs or the various Chin groups.
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