Several elderly women live there alone, with no family members to care for them, struggling through the twilight years of their lives. In truth, I return as much to see them as I do to revisit the neighborhood itself. I often wonder how they have managed to survive through these years of war.

Although U Kyaw Maung is no longer with us, his books, ideas, and countless acts of quiet generosity remain. They continue to guide students, researchers, writers, and all those who seek to understand Arakan's past and imagine its future.

"I used to love fried bottle gourd fritters. Back when I lived in Sittwe, I ate them at least once a week," Daw Mari said as she gently dropped another slice of battered bottle gourd into a wok of sizzling oil.

Large and small vehicles sped along the highway under the scorching afternoon sun. On one side of the road stood a row of modern high-rise buildings, elegant in their contemporary architecture. It was the Yadana Rose Condominium Complex.

Today, however, the mangrove forest often described as one of Arakan’s greatest environmental treasures, is scarred by widespread logging, leaving behind a landscape that resembles diseased skin covered in wounds.

Under the scorching summer sun, 47-year-old Daw Oo Saw Nwe and three members of her family strain to push bamboo rafts that have become stranded after drifting down from the upper reaches of the Lay Myo River.

A pregnant woman, around 40 years old, sat quietly on a motorboat with a deeply exhausted expression on her face. Beside her were a 10-year-old girl, a 7-year-old boy, a 4-year-old girl, and a small puppy.

Between the Mayu mountain range and the Saing Tin hills lies a plain. In the upper reaches of the Mayu River, beside Pan Zin Creek, stood a small town where my mother’s home once was.

“It happened in an instant… while the market was crowded, the bombs fell. Even relatives of the monastery were killed there,” said Sayadaw Danapala, his voice heavy with grief.

General Khaing Razar was born in Kyaukchaung Village, Minbya Township, the third of seven children of U Tha Mya Aung and Daw Kyar Sein May. His childhood name was Hla Tun Aung.

Since the start of 2026, Arakan's largest city, Sittwe, the capital of Arakan (Rakhine) State and, in northern Arakan, the only remaining stronghold of Myanmar's military council and its state administration has again become a place of major developments and turning points.

Their story is just one among many in a new DMG research report on landmines and explosive remnants of war in Kyauktaw, Mrauk-U, and Ponnagyun townships. It reveals that for many families in Arakan, the war does not end when guns fall silent. It sits under the soil, waiting.

DMG's latest research, covering 90 survivors and affected families across three townships, reveals a crisis deeper than statistics: a story of shattered families, lost livelihoods, and psychological wounds that may last a lifetime.

Every day, from 8 a.m. until late afternoon, she roams the busy streets, markets, bus terminals, tea shops, and eateries of Kyauktaw, braving the sun and rain, seeking out donors. She has no regular income to rely on.

Between August 25 and September 12, Arakan State has witnessed two of the deadliest junta airstrikes in recent memory - first on Daing Kyi Ward in Mrauk-U, and then on Thayet Ta Pin village in Kyauktaw Township. Together, they have left more than 36 civilians dead, including children, scores injured, and entire communities displaced and devastated.

Daw Yi Yi Than is not alone in fearing the junta’s airstrikes. Many residents of Arakan State share similar fears. The psychological scars of those who have experienced airstrikes firsthand run deep.

"My sons took care of me, saying that there was only one mother in their lives. Now there is no one to take care of me," she said. "If possible, I have even reached the point where I want to die like my two sons."

The township became a battlefield after the AA launched an offensive against the regime in Arakan State last November. After the fighting peaked in Buthidaung Township, the regime started forcibly recruiting Muslim villagers near their bases.

Thousands of local farmers from about 30 villages in Kyaukphyu Township were forced to flee from landmines planted by the regime, junta raids and artillery attacks. Locals are not interested in the implementation of the Kyaukphyu SEZ project.