Inside a Thai Jungle Rehab Centre, Young Myanmar Refugees Battle Drug Addiction Amid Civil War Fallout

Myanmar Refugees Battle Drug Addiction

In the heart of a dense Thai jungle, tucked within the wooden stilt structures of a remote rehabilitation center, young refugees from Myanmar line up quietly, awaiting the prick of an acupuncture needle that promises reprieve from their struggle with addiction.

They are just a few of the many lives ensnared by the flood of methamphetamine and other synthetic drugs flowing through refugee camps set up to house those fleeing the brutal conflict sparked by Myanmar’s 2021 military coup. Today, in a place that was supposed to offer refuge, an unexpected epidemic has taken root — one of rampant drug use, deep trauma, and pervasive hopelessness.

Myanmar’s ongoing civil war, which began when the military overthrew the government of Aung San Suu Kyi, has uprooted millions, claimed thousands of lives, and driven the production of methamphetamine and other drugs to new heights. Despite the upheaval, a ray of hope has emerged across the border in Thailand. Here, the Drug and Alcohol Recovery and Education (DARE) rehabilitation centre works tirelessly to reverse the cycle of addiction plaguing the refugee communities.

The journey for many of these young refugees began with survival as they fled Myanmar’s escalating violence and instability. The Thai government has opened its borders to refugees fleeing Myanmar’s Karen state, but what awaits is far from a promised land. Lacking opportunities and basic stability, many young people find themselves trapped in border camps, where access to education and work is minimal and drug abuse is rampant.

“Youths from the camps are hopeless,” says Marip, a counselor at DARE and a former addict himself, requesting anonymity due to the stigma surrounding addiction. “They don’t know what to do. They have no guarantee for jobs and no future. They end up taking drugs. Drugs are easy to find in the camps.”

With support from the United Nations and various aid agencies, DARE operates a structured 90-day rehabilitation program using acupuncture, massages, and yoga to help manage withdrawal symptoms and cravings. The program spans five refugee camps in Thailand and extends to over 40 villages in Myanmar’s Karen state, boasting a remarkable 60 percent success rate.

This rehabilitation center has become a lifeline for young refugees whose traumatic experiences and daily challenges lead them down a path of substance abuse. However, the journey to recovery is far from straightforward in the face of ongoing trauma, instability, and an ever-present drug market.

For these young refugees, the trauma of fleeing conflict and witnessing brutal violence often precedes their drug use. Edward Blakely, a director at DARE, explains the dangerous mix of trauma and drug availability: “You have two large problems: trauma from people who fled their homes and saw their relatives killed, and an abundant supply of drugs coupled with a sense of hopelessness.”

The situation in Myanmar is dire, with an escalating civil conflict under the junta led by General Min Aung Hlaing. The conflict has weakened law enforcement across the nation, allowing drug syndicates to flourish. The infamous “Golden Triangle” — a border area between Myanmar, Thailand, and Laos — has become a hotbed for methamphetamine production, facilitating an influx of cheap, accessible drugs in local markets and refugee camps alike.

According to the UN Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC), methamphetamine production in Myanmar has surged since 2019, significantly lowering the cost of crystal methamphetamine. In 2023, the price dropped from over $10,000 per ton in 2019 to just $4,000, making the drugs more accessible than ever. One popular and highly addictive variant of meth, called “yaba” — a mix of methamphetamine and caffeine — is often cheaper than a bottle of beer in many parts of the region.

The sheer availability and affordability of yaba make it an easy escape for displaced young refugees facing a bleak reality, leaving addiction rates to soar. As Benedikt Hofmann, the UNODC’s Southeast Asia and Pacific deputy representative, observes, “They are so cheap at this point, it is really easy for people to buy drugs. In most parts of the Mekong, getting a tablet of yaba is cheaper than buying a beer.”

The Drug Trade’s Roots in Myanmar’s Conflict Zones
Many of Myanmar’s border regions, including those near Thailand where refugee camps are located, remain under the control of ethnic armed groups opposed to the ruling junta. These groups often rely on the drug trade as a key source of funding, creating a dangerous interplay between political strife and narcotics trafficking.

A senior anti-drugs police official in Myanmar, who spoke under anonymity, confirmed the growing difficulty in policing drug trafficking as new routes open due to ongoing fighting. “We face many difficulties in cracking down on the drug trade,” the official noted. “The problem is severe, as many armed groups are involved.”

The crisis is exacerbated by inadequate resources and limited international cooperation, which allow armed groups to freely navigate trafficking routes through remote regions. For the displaced, like those seeking treatment in the Thai jungle rehab center, the costs of this drug economy fall hardest on them.

Marip, the DARE counselor and former addict, stresses the harsh toll addiction takes on refugees, saying, “There is no price that compares to the freedom from drugs.”

Inside the Thai jungle rehab center, DARE offers a glimpse of what life could be for those who manage to escape addiction. Former addicts run the program, using their lived experiences to support those currently struggling. The recovery process is meticulously crafted with a blend of acupuncture, yoga, and massages, carefully selected to reduce the pain of withdrawal and ease psychological trauma.

Acupuncture, a central component of the program, is widely recognized for its effectiveness in reducing cravings and withdrawal symptoms. By promoting circulation and releasing endorphins, acupuncture helps restore some balance in the lives of those undergoing treatment. Massages complement this by relaxing muscles, reducing stress, and alleviating chronic pain, often a lasting reminder of the physical and mental toll of drug abuse.

“Yoga and mindfulness are important as well,” Marip adds. “They help patients regain a sense of peace. After what they’ve been through, it’s essential to restore even a small sense of normalcy.”

In a region where addiction is often associated with moral failure, the center also seeks to combat the stigma around drug abuse. Counselors like Marip understand the deep-rooted shame many patients feel, which often inhibits them from seeking help in the first place. By sharing his own struggles with addiction, Marip hopes to dispel some of the shame and encourage others to begin their own journey to sobriety.

The program’s success lies partly in its cultural sensitivity. Traditional practices like acupuncture resonate more strongly with local customs than Western medicine alone. This sensitivity enables staff to build stronger relationships with patients, who, in turn, feel a sense of belonging that has been stripped from them by displacement and addiction.

The work done by the DARE center represents a crucial, albeit limited, response to a crisis that extends far beyond the walls of any rehabilitation program. While its success rate offers hope, the center is but one beacon in a much larger issue that continues to worsen as Myanmar’s internal conflict drags on.

Hofmann of the UNODC highlights the need for more robust and coordinated international support to curb meth production in Myanmar’s regions. Efforts must extend beyond treatment and encompass preventative measures that address the root causes of addiction: political instability, economic deprivation, and the psychological toll of displacement and violence.

Meanwhile, for every young refugee who completes DARE’s program, there are countless others still ensnared by addiction and despair. DARE’s counselors, like Marip, hope their work will encourage regional governments and international bodies to expand similar programs and offer meaningful support to those affected by Myanmar’s crisis.

For now, however, DARE’s efforts represent a much-needed lifeline. By offering young refugees the chance to reclaim their lives, the program embodies the possibility of hope and healing even amid seemingly insurmountable chaos.

The journey of young refugees seeking treatment in the Thai jungle rehab center is a testament to resilience in the face of unimaginable hardship. Their struggles highlight the intersection of political violence and narcotics abuse that marks one of Southeast Asia’s most pressing humanitarian crises.

As regional instability persists, the need for comprehensive solutions, from international drug policy reform to on-the-ground support for affected individuals, grows ever more urgent. While DARE’s work is a small part of the puzzle, it offers a model of compassion and effectiveness that could help shape future responses to addiction crises worldwide.

For those within the stilted wooden walls of DARE’s center, each day brings a step toward recovery and freedom from the grip of addiction — a freedom that counselors like Marip know too well is priceless.

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