When Myanmar’s armed forces removed the democratically elected government in February 2021, the country descended into civil war. Journalists have been banned from reporting on the situation from the outset. 

I have been clandestinely covering the country’s uprising in Karenni state since January 2022, aiming to capture the daily life, the struggle, the loss, and the sheer determination of a people fighting with all their means for a future free of military rule. 

A predominantly Catholic ethnic group, the Karenni have been seeking self-determination since Myanmar—then known as Burma—gained independence from the British in 1948. 

What began as fighting in remote forests has evolved into urban warfare, vying for provincial towns—a sign of how far the revolution has come. But such advances incur a steep price: thousands have been killed and at least 3.3 million have been displaced, according to the United Nations. 

Faced with widespread opposition, the country’s junta, led by ethnic-majority Burmans, has responded brutally and indiscriminately against the population. Artillery and fighter jets are able to rain down death on opposition forces and civilian populations with near impunity, even as the junta’s ground troops have struggled with recent advances. 

As they are driven out of towns and villages, the military has been accused of deploying landmines on a massive scale; a practice Amnesty International has said amounts to war crimes, and one that could make it impossible for thousands of people to return home in the future. 

When I visited a field hospital last year, I saw the damage these brutal weapons inflict, as I spoke to fighters and civilians who had lost their legs and feet. One woman had stepped on a mine as she walked back home from harvesting rice to feed her three children. 

“I am not afraid to fight one-on-one with the enemy. This is war, and this is the life we have chosen for ourselves. I have a gun, they have a gun, and one of us has to die,” Karenni commander Ree Du told me back in April. “But I fear landmines for myself and my soldiers. If you step on a landmine, you lose one or both legs. You will have to live the rest of your life with this.” 

But despite the military’s brutality, and the immense cost borne by the civilian population – no one I spoke to regretted the sacrifice they were making. “We cannot lose this fight. If we lose, we will be slaves,” Ree Du said. “We have to fight so the next generation can be free.”