'Harung sea and forest, my guiding angel'- Sharifah

When Sharifah Shakirah was five years old, she was stuffed and crammed into a boat with people she didn’t know.

Separated from her father who fled the violence in her home country, and her mother was arrested while trying to follow her husband, Sharifah was sent to find her father, alone.

He was handed over to smugglers by his brother, traveled by sea and land, and walked through the jungle, then boarded a car to reach his father in Malaysia - a father he does not remember at all.

This is the story as told to Aidila Razak.

I have very little memory of Myanmar. When I was two years old, my father left us. The day he left us, he saw members of the Burmese army committing violence against the population. Worried for the safety of his life, he pulled away. He didn't even say goodbye.

We are Rohingya Muslims, living in the state of Arakan. For the Rohingya community, men are the breadwinners. So when my father disappeared, my mother was the only one left to take care of us - two daughters, two years and a year old. Without her realizing it, at that time, she was also pregnant with my little brother.

There was not much Rohingya women could do to earn an income at that time. Mom started working at someone else's house. Shortly after that, he got word from his father who was in Malaysia.

Our village was surrounded by Buddhist villages that were hostile to us. The violence got worse every day, until some Buddhist monks began inciting their followers to burn Rohingya houses and shops.

My mother felt that we had not said goodbye there - we could be killed at any time - so she decided to run away and take us away to be with my father.

As Rohingya people, we can't just run like that. We don't have a passport. We can't just get on a plane and run away from this country. We are not allowed to leave the state of Arakan without permission. Our movement was very limited, like living in a big prison.

So my mother made a plan for us to run by boat - from Arakan (Rakhine state) to Rangoon (Yangon), and from there take another boat to Thailand, then to Malaysia.

It was dawn, we set off on a fishing boat in Arakan. I was three years old at the time, my sister was two years old and my brother was a year old, still breastfeeding.

When we arrived in Rangoon, we were housed in a building, a sort of shop with its shutters lowered. We're just kids there. There, the smugglers demanded payment.

If we follow my mother's plan, the money from my father will arrive when we arrive in Rangoon, but the money did not arrive. So my mother negotiated - release her children first to relatives, and she would wait there until the money came in.

But I couldn't see my mother until two years later. Somehow, the authorities raided the place and everyone was arrested. Mom was jailed for two years for traveling without documents.

The relatives who took us, separated us as brothers and sisters. I live with one sibling family in Mandalay, my siblings in Rangoon. I've never met them before. I lived with them for two years.

They are a happy family with their own children, but they abuse me. They hit me until I broke my teeth. I get emotional when I think of those times, and I still try to overcome that trauma to this day. But thankfully it wasn’t sexual abuse, as experienced by many of the girl refugees I’ve met since then. In fact, the family dressed me in boyish clothes, shaved my head. I still don't know why they do that.

Sometimes, in their house, someone would come looking for me - the police or something like that. They (the family) will say, they know my mother has three children and they are also (supposedly) looking for my mother's children. I have to hide in the house.

Those were the hardest times of my life. I don't understand what's going on. I was reminded of my mother and would cry every night. I cried longing for her hug, her love, and wanted her to be with me. He had told me later, he survived in prison thinking of us every night.

When we separated, I was told that I would just have to wait until mom was released, then we would be reunited and start our journey back to meet dad. But in the end, it didn't come true. They did not release him in Ranggon, but he was deported back to Arakan. That’s when my dad decided to arrange our trip as siblings, on their own.

My younger brother, then three years old, who went first. Then my four -year -old sister. Finally, it's me. My brother took me to a house and left me there without saying goodbye. They told me I would see my father. I have no memory of him, so I am reminded of a picture of him that I once saw. I was reminded I would be able to meet my siblings, so I brought along a yellow toy mouse for my little brother.

I was so scared when it was once again handed over to a stranger. The smuggler, a Burmese woman, he took part in the trip. We weren’t allowed to bring anything, so my bag and toy mice were thrown away. We squatted in an enclosed space on the boat, with our bodies and heads overlapping each other. People get seasick, then vomit into each other's bodies.

That was the beginning of my two -week journey - from Myanmar to Thailand, and from Thailand to Malaysia. It's hard to remember the details - what we ate - but I remember the feeling of fear. When we walked into the woods at night, and stayed in a hut in the middle of the woods, the smuggler would say, "Don't go there, or you'll be killed." Looks like, anything can cause me to get killed.

The journey was dangerous - we could be used, detained, tortured, or arrested - and I had no one to take care of me. Except, maybe an angel is guiding us. That’s the only explanation I can think of of how I could have survived such a journey as a little boy, while the adults around me couldn’t survive and died.

We crossed into Malaysia by bus. I was told what the color of the Malaysian police uniform was, and was told to act normal and not be afraid to be approached (by the police). Knowingly, after that, they said, "This is Malaysia, you have arrived".

My dad was waiting for me across the street as I got off the bus. Of course I didn't know him, but a man said, "That's your father." I remember again, I felt so happy until I ran and hugged him. He was shocked. She expected the arrival of a daughter, but who came the boy in shorts and bald hair, came to hug her.

Mom until two months later, and finally our family was united. I don't remember, but mom told me, we forgot about him and don't remember who he is. I guess, maybe it's just because we can't digest what we feel.

This thing - not being able to digest my own feelings - I felt again when I got resettled in the United States last year, and reunited with my parents who had been resettled there before me.

They came to pick me up at the airport and I was very happy, only at that time, I could not express what I felt. I was so silent for at least two days, and even after that, there were times I would cry for no reason. I do not understand what is happening to me.

It’s hard for me to recall what has happened, but I also think the difficulties I faced made who I am now. When things get tough, I will remember my life journey in the past and tell myself, “You’ve been through something worse than this”.

That is also why I founded the Rohingya Women Development Network. I also believe God placed me to go through all these difficulties and challenges, because he wants me to pass it on to others. He makes me strong so that I can help others, this is my goal in life. I was born to help my people. It was a huge responsibility, but I tried my best to rebuild my community.

I was relocated at the age of 24. I spend most of my life in Malaysia, so Malaysia is like my home. I have siblings who were born in Malaysia, and we all speak Malay to each other. My younger brother can't speak Rohignya very well, he prefers to speak Malay.

But that does not mean everything is beautiful in Malaysia. Aware of the importance of education, my father worked hard to send me to a private Islamic primary school. There, I was bullied, sometimes coming home with a ragged shirt because other boys threw water at me just for fun.

Sometimes, when things got really bad, I told my mother that I wanted to go back to Myanmar, and she would look at me with a confused look.

Most Rohingya refugees who were born in Malaysia or fled there at a young age, are able to mix easily with the Malaysian community. We speak the language there, dress like people there, we are like Malaysian boys too.

But even though I dress and speak Malay, there is something in me that feels so isolated, and that Malaysia is just a temporary home - even though I spent almost 20 years of my life there.

Physically, I am in Malaysia, but mentally I am in Myanmar, and all the time I try my best to be the best version of myself, to be accepted by the locals in Malaysia. Because I’ve been rejected, rejected, and rejected throughout my life, and I don’t want to be rejected again.

Here, in the US, siblings and I go to college or school. We have a bank account. My husband has a driver's license. My parents are now US citizens, and have a home.

If you come to visit the Rohingya community here, you will find them speaking Malay to each other, cooking nasi lemak or laksa - that's how we show our appreciation for Malaysia, its people, its language and its culture.

We are the proof that the Rohingya refugees are only seeking temporary refuge in Malaysia. While we are there, allow us to study, work, and contribute to the country.

One day, I hope I can return to Malaysia and show my children where we grew up. This time, we will log in legally and have valid status.

My eldest daughter was born this year. I waited until I got resettlement before setting up a household because I didn’t want my son to be a refugee, and through what I went through.

He was the first in our family to be born a citizen. He has a country, and he has rights as a human being. He is protected by law. He is free to make choices. That’s the best thing I can give my son.

Sharifah

Now 25, Sharifah lives in Texas, USA with her parents, siblings, husband and daughter, Amira. She is currently learning to prepare to take the General Education Development test, so that she can get into college. She is the founder of the Rohingya Women’s Development Network. Last year, she was nominated for the International Women of Courage award from the U.S. Department of State.