Pann Pann's first work was in 2019 at a government-run hospital in Bago, a city in the south of Myanmar, where she was responsible for preserving medical records. She wanted to work in the hospital's records department.
But now, four years later, the 25-year-old is working as a waitress in Bangkok, her hopes and aspirations put on hold as her nation is still ruled by a harsh military administration.
"I would have never left if it weren't for the coup," she says. I had plans to settle down in Myanmar. However, I can no longer feel secure anywhere in my nation.
When Pann Pann graduated from university, Myanmar was experiencing its first period of political freedom in half a century. Despite decades of turmoil, the economy has recently begun to improve thanks to an influx of tourists and international investment.
Then February of 2021 arrived. Large anti-coup demonstrations led to a violent civil war and economic collapse after the army captured Aung San Suu Kyi, the democratically elected leader.
Youthful opposition typified the early days of the post-coup movement, but that optimism has now faded. People like Pann Pann, who participated in the civil disobedience movement—a massive strike led by public sector workers against military rule—faced greater dangers staying in Myanmar.
Since the coup, the United Nations believes that some 70,000 people have fled the nation. Young people's disillusionment and the need to provide for their families have fueled the migration. The International Labor Organization estimates that by midway through 2022, there will be 1.1 million fewer Burmese in the labor force than there were in the same time in 2020.
Ethnic minorities had been leaving the country for decades due to persecution. When the army was blamed for a supposed genocide against the Rohingya Muslim population, tens of thousands more Muslims fled to neighboring countries. After the coup, many Burmese wanted to leave because they were tired of the civil conflict.
Pann Pann struggled with the decision to leave Myanmar.
She had spent months hiding out with relatives in order to avoid capture by the police. Even after many of her friends were murdered by the junta, she remained a resident in Bago. At last, an American pal raised enough cash to pay for her one-way flight to Chiang Mai.
She moved to Bangkok because she was unsuccessful in her job search there. In the course of a single year, she worked seven different illegal occupations, including as a babysitter, housekeeper, waiter, and construction worker. Unfortunately, Pann Pann has yet to obtain a work visa.
She claims, however, that stability of a sort does exist. Her current monthly income of 12,000 baht (£280; $350) covers the cost of a modest room in the neighborhood.
Because I am unable to communicate well in either the Thai or English languages, everyday life in Thailand is challenging for me. Although I still can't stay here legally, it's more safer," she said.
It's because she thinks her name is on a "black list" that she's afraid to return there. So, it's unclear when she'll next be able to visit her loved ones.
"But I think this is the right decision," she finally says. I didn't come to Thailand for the ease of living here. To be honest, I had no concept of what Thailand was like. But while in Myanmar, I thought only of one thing: "I have to get out of here."
Augustine Thang, his wife, and their two young children rode their bicycles across the border from Chin state in Myanmar to Mizoram in India in January of last year out of fear for their safety.
Despite still hoping for a chance to go back, he never actually did.
When the coup occurred, the 34-year-old was working as a deputy manager for the Chin state's social welfare department. A week later, he became involved in the civil disobedience movement.
The stress of providing for his family and the worry of being punished by the army finally got to him.
"It was a tough call. He remarked, "I opted to go because our lives are vital; I love my country, my community, and I want to work for my people.
Thang now does construction projects as they come up.
I aspired to head the [previous] division and concentrate on young improvement. As a result, I am currently jobless. When I help my pals, they often give me a cut of what they make. "This doesn't cut it," he said.
We're not from here, yet we're stuck here nevertheless.
Thang says he misses "being able to live peacefully, to fish at sea, and have fresh fish" most of all about Myanmar. But he still has faith that the United Nations and other foreign bodies would help his country "regain democracy" one day.
Some people left Myanmar for reasons other than terror. Burmese engineering student Julia Khine is among many who have gone outside to further their education. But after seeing what’s happened in her home country, she’s even less eager to go back.
"I hope to contribute to my country and people, but from outside Myanmar," the 21-year-old, who hasn't been back since August 2022, says. After finishing college, she plans to "speak about the injustice that is happening in Myanmar" wherever she goes.
She says it's been unsettling to have a calm existence while her loved ones back home face daily threats of violence and uncertainty.
"It's been difficult to make close friends in Hong Kong because they cannot relate to my concerns," she says. "I was horrified by the recent air strikes [in Myanmar], but I didn't think they would understand my feelings, so I just had to pretend nothing was going on."
More than a hundred individuals in a northwest community were murdered in the air strike she mentioned.
She avoids communicating with her friends and family at home by not posting on social media for fear of offending them.
She went on to say that the "triggered if they see that I'm doing good" would be the parents of her friends who had been killed by the army.
Pann Pann, meantime, feels homesick for her church community. However, she reminds herself that she is, in fact, the lucky one.
My pals are still scattered from place to place as they seek refuge. She continues, "Some have been killed." To stay resilient, I remind myself that they have it much worse than I do.