Last month I went to the north of Burma. I went to a state where the Kachin live. They one of the beautiful people of Burma, brave, hospitable and friendly. For three years the Burma Army has brutally attacked their homes, their villages and their land. Their land is full of natural resources. I suspect that is why, although they would never admit it themselves.
The 100,000 Kachin who have lost their homes and everything that is dear to them receive hardly no help at all. This is one of the stories I heard. Read it with tissue paper close by.
Maru (not his real name) will never forget that Sunday. The sky was heavy with rain, and the fields all around the village was bursting with color. The monsoon season brought new life to the thirsty pastures.
Sundays were days of rest and fellowship. His dad had been…
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