Echoing Public's Voice and Resilience
By Justino
Ever since I was around ten years old—old enough to begin thinking seriously about the world—I admired journalists. Watching them work, I was fascinated by a profession that seemed so distant from my own life. At the time, journalism was simply something I admired from afar, but one dream stayed with me:
“One day, I want to become a journalist who brings people’s voices to light.”
I carried that dream with me for years.
As circumstances changed, I eventually found myself working as a journalist on the ground. Once I entered the profession, however, I realized that journalism was far more demanding than I had imagined from a distance. Bringing people’s voices to light came with enormous sacrifices and challenges. This has been particularly true during the current revolutionary period. Working in local media and investigating human rights violations on the ground have continuously affected my mental health, exposing me to intense stress and psychological trauma. Efforts to uncover the truth in the public interest have, at times, also brought serious threats to my safety and wellbeing.
When Journalism Comes With a Price
One experience that remains deeply etched in my memory took place in October 2025.
I investigated a case in Magway Region involving a local resistance group that had wrongly accused and detained a resident. Although my intention was to uncover the truth, the investigation triggered strong dissatisfaction from the group involved.
My social media profile was exposed publicly, and both my newsroom and I began receiving online threats. At the same time, the exposure brought me under increased surveillance by the military authorities.
For my own safety, I had to move repeatedly from place to place.
During that period, questions followed me every day:
When will I be arrested? Who might come after me? Where will I sleep tonight? What will happen next?
Eventually, even the sound of dry leaves rustling nearby could make me feel unsafe and startled.
It was one of the most difficult periods I had experienced since becoming a journalist, and one of the times when the psychological pressure felt most intense.
Then, in January 2026, I reported on disputes involving arrests between local communities and resistance groups in Sagaing Region, documenting the perspectives and wishes of local people.
Reporting critically on the actions of armed authorities in these areas can feel like walking barefoot along a path covered in thorns.
Since 2024, I had also been investigating the interests behind gold-mining activities and the involvement of armed authorities. That work pushed my stress levels even further.
But the most psychologically damaging experience of my life came more recently.
After I reported on tensions between local authorities and communities, resentment toward me intensified. By late April 2026, I learned that someone associated with the relevant group was actively looking for me and had reportedly said:
“He must be somewhere around here. Find him. If you find him, kill him—I’ll take responsibility.”
I could no longer remain where I was.
At the same time, the exposure of my personal information meant that I was also being monitored by the military authorities. Being of military conscription age created another layer of risk, including the possibility of arrest.
I found myself facing threats from two sides.
With my life increasingly at risk, I had little choice but to leave immediately, carrying little more than the clothes I had with me, and seek safety in a border area.
Even now, however, I cannot say with certainty how safe I am. The thought remains with me:
Will I have to face another frightening situation again?
When the Work Becomes Too Heavy
There have been moments when I have thought:
I’m exhausted. I never knew it would be this mentally draining. I don’t want to do this anymore. Would it be better to give up the work I love?
My mental wellbeing reached an extremely low point.
I struggled to sleep. Loud noises startled me. Anxiety and worry followed me like a shadow.
And yet, strangely, whenever I imagined giving up journalism—whenever I thought about no longer bringing people’s voices to light—I felt as though I was failing in my responsibility.
That feeling kept pulling me back.
So even knowing that this work, and the places where I do it, may expose me to further danger, I still find myself unable to walk away.
Learning Resilience and Self-Care
These experiences have also taught me important lessons.
Above all, I have come to understand the importance of psychological resilience and self-care.
Journalists like us are human beings made of flesh and blood. We are not machines.
I have had to learn how to live with and move through the psychological wounds created by the things I have witnessed and experienced.
No matter how difficult things become, talking openly with colleagues and people I trust has helped. Simply acknowledging that I am exhausted, recognizing that I have been affected, and allowing myself to seek advice and support can bring enormous relief.
I have also learned something else: no matter how important or powerful a story may be, no story is more important than a journalist’s life and safety.
That lesson has stayed with me.
For journalists to continue doing this work, we need strong safety measures and systems around us.
At the same time, believing that the difficult stories I uncover might help bring some measure of truth to the public gives me strength.
When our journalism produces positive outcomes, the sense of fulfilment is difficult to compare with anything else. Those moments give me the motivation to remain in this profession and continue moving forward. Sometimes I wish that, when I first became a journalist, someone had warned me about the psychological toll this profession could take.
But perhaps nothing in life—or in this work—is ever entirely easy.
Despite everything I have experienced and all the uncertainty that remains, I am now trying to become psychologically stronger and to build healthier, more balanced habits in my everyday life.
A journalist’s path may be filled with pressure, danger and uncertainty. Even so, I remain determined to continue along the path I chose: to bring people’s voices to light.
The challenges I have faced have made me more mature and resilient. I choose to see them as lessons that are shaping me into a journalist with greater strength, resilience and compassion
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