အကျပ်အတည်းကြားမှ ရုန်းကန်နေသူ
“We had livestock, a chicken farm,” she said. “We sold them one by one to stave off hunger. Now, we’re down to three chickens, two ducks, and this trishaw, which we’re trying to sell just to buy a bag of rice for the month.”
The sun blazed like an angry god that day, sweating me like a pig. We walked across the parched paddy fields, now littered with waste. We were heading towards a cluster of huts. I found a woman there in her early thirties sitting on the doorstep, having her lunch. A few chickens and ducks were roaming near a battered trishaw in her compound. when I approached, she gave me a confused look—me, the intruder at her gate. I smiled at her beamingly before I initiated the interview.
I learnt that life had once been better for them. Her husband, before covid-19, was a trishaw driver, and she, on the other hand, was a fishmonger, selling the day’s catch at the local market. But the arrival of the pandemic and, later, the coup doomed their lives, and their livelihood crumbled.