Myanmar’s earthquake has left the regime’s already shaky administration reeling, with thousands of its staff in the capital now living in temporary shelters and complaining of limited assistance from their masters.
By FRONTIER
While levelling buildings across a swathe of central Myanmar, the March 28 earthquake also ravaged the junta’s administrative centre. The city of Nay Pyi Taw sits on the Sagaing Fault, the source of the 7.7 magnitude quake. Although the effect on high-level regime functions remains unclear, the disaster has left thousands of civil servants and their family members homeless.
Most civil service housing is in Zabuthiri Township, where Frontier saw rows of damaged four-storey buildings. Some had completely collapsed, while others had sunk into the ground with their entire ground floors buried. Most of the housing blocks that remained standing had sustained severe cracks, making them too dangerous to inhabit. With rescue teams mostly departed, the smell of unclaimed bodies filled the largely empty lanes.
The junta says the earthquake has killed more than 600 people in the capital city, out of a national death toll of over 3,600, although it’s unclear how many of them were its own staff. Most of the dead were reported in Zabuthiri and Pyinmana townships.
Those that survive, even among civil service families, complain of a slow and inadequate response from the regime, despite frequent state media reports of ministries doling out aid to their staff. Temporary plastic shelters with Chinese aid logos began to sprout up several days after the earthquake, to accommodate residents of the Zabuthiri housing blocks. However, occupants say that they still rely on private donors, rather than the junta, to meet many of their basic needs.
Other low-level regime employees have had to erect their own crude shacks, or have used their meagre salaries to move with their families to commercial guest houses, because of a limited number of official shelters. Some, meanwhile, have returned to their original towns and villages across the country, despite departmental orders that they keep attending their offices, many of which are damaged and without power.
A junior employee of the Ministry of Industry described how she and her neighbours had to fend for themselves in the days immediately after the earthquake. Talking to Frontier on April 2 she said, “We still sleep and eat on the street. We don’t know whether our ministry will build temporary shelters for us or not.”
“We only charge our phones when donors bring generators,” she said, choosing to remain anonymous like all other civil servants interviewed for this story, in order to avoid repercussions. “There are probably more than 30 families of employees from the same department who are living the same way.”
When Frontier revisited the site on April 7, the woman and the other families were gone and no one could comment on their whereabouts. But near another ruined housing colony in Zabuthiri, civil service families were still living on a football field in flimsy shacks that they had made themselves from bamboo and tarpaulin.
“Our department has not provided any assistance yet,” said a male staffer of the Nay Pyi Taw municipal committee, adding that local officials had even asked them to relocate without providing alternative lodgings.
“The authorities came and said we need to move because we are creating bad views in the city,” he told Frontier, suggesting the junta is worried about appearances at a time when numerous foreign aid delegations are visiting the capital. “We have to return near our building which has totally collapsed, and will have to build our own shelters.”
Frustration among civil servants, meanwhile, has been spilling onto social media. “It’s been a week,” began one post on April 6 by a female employee of an unspecified ministry, writing in a Facebook group called Nay Pyi Taw Community with about 150,000 members. “What support will [our ministry] provide? How many days will the office remain closed? No word yet. I’m shocked.”
One female civil servant whose office had reopened commented beneath the post, “The department said they would take action against us for not coming to the office.” Another commented, “The ground floor of my [residential] building has collapsed. The department has not provided any support. I’ll be punished if I don’t go to the office. This is so unfair.”
About five days after the earthquake, authorities began erecting prefabricated, 10-foot-wide shelters emblazoned with Chinese characters on sports fields and vacant lots near civil service housing. Most are bright blue but there are also shelters coloured in army camouflage for members of the Ministry of Home Affairs, which the 2008 Constitution places under the military.
An employee of the ministry of the union government office said of life at the shelters, “We have enough water for [bathing] because the municipality arranged it for us. Drinking water has been donated by the public. However, we still don’t have electricity. We also need medicine for the elderly in our families.”
“Our department has arranged accommodation and some food, but we still rely on donors for other things,” she told Frontier. “If donors come, we would like them to bring medicine, electric torches, candles and dried food.”
Around her were other shelters occupied by more than 40 families of staff from various ministries, located close to their former homes in the hard-hit Kant Kaw housing complex.
A junior home ministry employee said the shelters were too small and uncomfortable for families like his with small children, prompting him to pay K75,000 (US$17) a month out of his salary of just over K200,000 to rent a room in a dormitory elsewhere in the city.
“If I could just add a bed, I’d be fine,” he said of the shelters. “The floor is close to the ground, so it would be uncomfortable if it rains. I have a one-year-old son, and I’m worried about his health if he stays in a temporary shelter. I’m not renting because I have extra money. I’m renting because it’s not acceptable to live in such a shelter.”
However, other civil service families weren’t even allotted a pre-built shelter. The wife of a male parliamentary staffer told Frontier on April 7, “My husband’s department provided us with a tent but told us to find a suitable place and erect it ourselves. My husband still has to go to the office, even though it’s hard to get food and living conditions are difficult. … We’re only managing thanks to [public] donations.”
As described in the complaints on Facebook, many other staff similarly have to keep turning up at their departments each weekday, however difficult their circumstances. A director-general, who asked that his name and ministry be withheld to avoid repercussions, said offices in Nay Pyi Taw remain open because there was no junta directive to close them.
However, many departmental buildings are in scarcely better shape than the housing blocks. Frontier observed on April 4 that the agriculture ministry was still without electricity. They also remain understaffed despite the return-to-work orders.
“Some employees were afraid and have returned to their regions. Some of those who initially returned have now come back. We will ensure that office work is back to normal before Thingyan,” the director-general told Frontier on the same day, referring to the traditional new year festival from April 13 to 16. “The heads of relevant departments in each ministry are working to get their departments up and running as soon as possible.”
Despite many civil servants complaining of a lack of assistance, the director-general said his own department has taken the initiative to help its employees. This includes relocating staff who missed out on shelters to rooms at schools and universities that remain intact, and providing them with electricity, water and food.
However, he said the department has received no extra budget for this assistance, despite the junta receiving millions of dollars in direct aid from friendly countries such as Russia, China and India. Instead, the director-general and his colleagues have had to fundraise independently.
“Our department does not actively seek out donations for its employees,” he said, implying that doing so publicly would embarrass the junta. “However, we do accept donations from anyone who wishes to contribute.”
Meanwhile, the ruined housing colonies of Zabuthiri lie virtually abandoned in the almost 40-degree heat. “There are no longer any rescue efforts,” said one junior civil servant at the Kha Yay housing complex. “I think there are still dead bodies inside because when we pass by some buildings, the smell is unbearable.”
Local authorities are also doing little to deter looting. “There are still people stealing things from these destroyed buildings. They steal not only at night but also during the day,” he added. “Some people were temporarily relocated but couldn’t take all their belongings at once. Unfortunately, thieves stole the items they left behind. Scavengers are also searching through the rubble.”
Back among the nearby temporary shelters, occupants worry about the future.
“I don’t know how long I’ll have to live like this,” said a Ministry of Industry worker. “Staff who have money can live independently, while some high-ranking employees living in government housing also have their own private compounds to go to. But us lower-level employees are left with no one to help us.”
