Myanmar: Life under military rule

The rampant inflation of recent months has driven the people of Myanmar to God. The connection between piety and prices? “Oh my God!” is the frequent response when the cost of everything from food and fuel to pharmaceuticals increases every four or five days.

A chicken egg that cost 120 kyats (USD 0.037) before the 2021 coup now costs 360 kyats (USD 0.11). A duck egg has risen from 200 kyats (USD 0.062) to 500 kyats (USD 0.15). The same goes for cooking oil, rice, tomatoes, cabbage, white radish, chicken, pork and shrimp. There is no food item whose price has not risen.

In Yangon, long queues of people lining up to buy palm oil are reminiscent of the Ne Win era, when basic necessities including rice were rationed. Customers must show their citizenship ID under a regime diktat to prevent people from queuing twice for extra cooking oil. Mobile shops selling subsidized cooking oil at 6,000 kyats ($1.85) per viss (about 1.6 kilos) — half the market price — are packed and quickly sold out.

The satirical cartoons on social media showing people snatching cabbages at markets are not entirely an exaggeration.

Cabbage, water spinach and eggs were once common on the tables of low-income families. But under the government of (General) Min Aung Hlaing, even middle-class families sigh deeply about their prices.

Shopping may be a pleasurable activity elsewhere, but not for the people of Myanmar. The struggle for household supplies is a daily torment for most families.

Low-quality rice has risen from 2,000 kyats (USD 0.62) per viss (2.13 kilos) before the coup to over 5,000 kyats (USD 1.54). Higher-quality grains are something only well-off families can afford now. I was speechless when junta chief Min Aung Hlaing said on an 8pm newscast a few days ago that Myanmar was exporting surplus rice.

An aunt of mine complains about the exorbitant price of sea fish she buys to feed stray dogs. Min Aung Hlaing’s coup has increased the difficulty even for stray animals.

Meanwhile, power cuts force me to use canned gas to cook my kids’ lunch. Cooking gas prices have also gone up recently, but coal prices are not cheap either. I also mutter “Oh my God!”

But price increases are not the only problem. Some products are also in short supply.

I went into a store to buy chicken seasoning powder a couple of days ago, but I didn’t find any on the shelves. The saleswoman, who knows me as a regular customer, quietly told me to wait while she looked for some in the warehouse. When I told my wife about it, she told me in surprise that the chicken seasoning had been out of stock for weeks.

At a City Mart supermarket, I discovered that the nutritional drink Ovaltine was being rationed to two packets per customer. When I said I needed three packets for my grandparents, the cashier kindly sold me two packets and the third with a separate receipt. I realized that Ovaltine might also be out of stock.

After months of searching for Gillette Foamy shaving cream in popular malls, I finally found two bottles in a drugstore. Logic told me to take both, but the needs of my two young children come first. Diaper prices are also rising.

Prices for pharmaceuticals have also skyrocketed. Patients risk worsening their health when they hear the prices of the pills they need. “That medicine is out of stock” is a common refrain at pharmacy counters these days. My wife has had to get used to her stomach ache, as the antacid Kremil-S is often out of stock.

I can’t help cursing Min Aung Hlaing. However, we urban residents are at least luckier than our compatriots elsewhere, who are forced to abandon their belongings and businesses as they flee the junta’s airstrikes and artillery bombardments.

Inflation, shortages of consumer goods, severe power cuts and a wave of crimes such as robbery, mugging and pickpocketing have become part of life in the cities. Adding to the general deterioration are the unlicensed buses that have returned to Yangon’s streets. These vehicles are notorious for driving dangerously as they fight for passengers.

Women carrying shoulder bags are no longer safe in Yangon. The epidemic of muggings also targets phones, bicycles and electric bikes. Public bus drivers frequently warn passengers to “watch your phones and wallets” – a sign that there are pickpockets on board.

Unlicensed bus drivers urge passengers to pray to God as they speed up to overtake public buses and taxis. They also provide an extra source of income for traffic police and soldiers, with “bus bribes” now a familiar sight in Yangon.

On the streets, Yangon residents are constantly in fear that junta soldiers will stop them and search their phones. You can be arrested for using a virtual private network (VPN) or storing photos deemed politically sensitive or offensive to the regime.

Walking through downtown Yangon, the roar of diesel generators rings in your ears and the stench of overflowing garbage bins gives you a headache.

Upmarket restaurants such as the Japanese restaurant Gekko, which attracted local and international customers, have closed since the coup.

The regime claims that foreign arrivals have increased, but tourists are a rare sight in Yangon. The flocks of foreigners you used to see at Shwedagon Pagoda, outside Yangon City Hall, in Chinatown and on buses to and from the airport are a thing of the past.

Both urban and rural areas of Myanmar have been in chaos since the coup.

No guest likes to visit a troubled home.

Every morning my wife says to me: “Why don’t you put the Paritta on? [canto budista que se cree ahuyenta la desgracia o el peligro] on your computer?”.

But I know that it will take more than a song to lift the curse of the military regime.

Note: This article is republished from Global Voices under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 license. Link to the original article.