Do not forget Yasmin Ara.
Young and pretty. So Hamid sent her away by night. With their four-year-old son. And two-year old daughter…
To hide. From the army. Looking for young and pretty.
They found Hamid. The torture began.
Yasmin walked the wild for three days. She knew nothing. She ate nothing. She and the other women with children. They fled for their lives. For their dignity.
The soldiers found them. The unspeakable began.
Yasmin ran in the chaos. Daughter in arms. Son at her side. He was always at her side. She ran for hours.
Then she looked. He was gone!
Yasmin walked. Eight days into Bangladesh. Waiting for her husband. Then others came. They showed her a picture. It was Hamid. They slit his throat.
Yasmin’s losses — husband, little son, home — have left her senseless. She stares into a void. Who am I now? How to provide for my daughter?
Yasmin Ara, 28, is only this: What will I do now?
Do not forget Yasmin Ara. And the 600,000 widows, orphans, and destitute like her.
Please give. Please save the helpless Rohingya.