By Min Zan

WHEN disaster strikes, I’ve noticed some­thing unsettling about how some of us in Myanmar re­spond. It’s not just the chaos or the loss – it’s the way certain people see opportunity in the suffering. I’ve always known that crises can bring out both the best and worst in humanity, but it wasn’t until recently that I saw it so clearly with my own eyes. After the earthquake that shook our lives, I encountered a side of my people that left me questioning our values.

I’m not saying this is unique to Myanmar – far from it. Around the world, when calamity hits, there are always those who turn fear and scarcity into profit. But here, in the wake of natural disasters or unrest, I’ve seen business owners and vendors act in ways that clash with the compassion I grew up believing in. Take the recent earthquake, for instance. As buildings crum­bled and lives were upended, I assumed we’d come together to help one another. Instead, I found myself chasing construc­tion materials while others hoarded them, waiting for the perfect moment to cash in.

This isn’t just about supply and demand – it’s deeper than that. Sure, when need spikes and resources dwindle, prices can rise naturally. But what I witnessed went beyond that: deliberate hoarding, artificial shortages, and a cold calculation that turned a community’s pain into a payday. It’s a stark con­trast to the ‘thaddha’ (goodwill) and ‘karuna’ (compassion) I was taught to cherish, and it made me wonder how we’ve strayed so far. Not everyone behaves this way, of course – many rush to aid those in need – but my recent experience with something as simple as buying cement showed me just how pervasive this prof­iteering can be.

It was Saturday, the day after the earthquake. The tile installer, whom I had scheduled to come tile my small extension room of about 360 square feet, arrived at my house. Since the main materials needed for tiling are tiles and cement, the install­er and I went to a construction supply store together. This store is a large one where you can find all kinds of construction mate­rials, a place where you can get whatever you need at any time. I’ve supported this shop before, having bought items like a gen­erator from them in the past.

When we arrived, we looked at the tiles together. We easily found the tiles in the size and quantity we wanted – 380 piec­es. After that, when we asked about cement, the tile installer told us that the Alpha brand ce­ment, which he preferred, wasn’t available. For tiling, we didn’t need a lot of cement – five bags at most would suffice. Recent­ly, in the construction world, the Alpha brand has been the most favoured by tile installers. When we asked the shop’s sales staff, they said that the Alpha brand was no longer in stock, and only other brands were available. They also mentioned that it wasn’t certain when the Alpha brand would be back in stock. The installer didn’t like the cement they had in the shop, saying it was of poor quality. So, after asking for the tiles but not buying them yet, we decided to go to another construction sup­ply store next door to check if they had the Alpha brand cement we wanted, and we headed over there.

As soon as we arrived at that shop, we saw a big truck parked in the compound, loaded with Al­pha brand cement. We were de­lighted and went inside the shop, where I directly asked, “How much is the Alpha cement?” A young female employee at the shop told us that the Alpha ce­ment was out of stock. I pointed at the truck and asked, “What about the Alpha cement in that truck?” She replied that those weren’t for sale. When I asked, “Isn’t that cement your shop’s stock?” she confirmed that it was indeed theirs. So, I pressed, “If it’s yours, why aren’t you selling it?” She gave vague answers, fumbling with excuses like it was already sold or something unclear like that. Frustrated, the tile installer and I left dis­appointed and headed back to town. There were still some con­struction supply stores in town, so we planned to stop by and check on our way back.

When we reached a shop in town, we saw a large pile of Al­pha cement bags stacked inside, and we felt relieved. This time, we thought we’d finally be able to buy some. But when we went in and asked, the young female sales assistant at the shop said that the Alpha cement wasn’t for sale. When we asked, “What about those Alpha bags over there?” she replied that those weren’t for sale either. Both the tile installer and I were pretty disappointed. We’d seen Alpha cement loaded in a truck, and they wouldn’t sell it; now, even the Alpha cement stacked in this shop wasn’t for sale either. We started to realize something was off. At this point, it had only been about 24 hours since the earthquake. It dawned on us that there were things we hadn’t considered, but the con­struction supply stores had al­ready thought of them – though I still didn’t fully understand what was going on.

Two more days passed, and it was Monday. Over those two days, through online media, I wit­nessed firsthand the sheer scale of the earthquake’s destruction. In the densely populated cities of central Myanmar, nearly all the buildings – apartment blocks, offices, historical heritage pa­godas, and places of worship like mosques – had collapsed into piles of rubble. There were countless casualties, and the numbers of the dead and injured kept rising day by day. During those two days, the scenes I saw on social media finally revealed why the cement shops, despite having stock, weren’t selling it. Oh… what a thing to do… After the earthquake, once the debris is cleared, reconstruction efforts will inevitably begin. The col­lapsed buildings will have to be rebuilt, and cement will become an absolutely essential material. It hit me – they’re holding back on selling Alpha cement to us now so they can sell it later at whatever price they want. That’s the realization I came to… Oh… what a terrifying mindset… Such an utterly despicable attitude… To think that amidst the apoca­lyptic destruction, with people grieving beside piles of rubble, they’re heartlessly scheming such plans.

I’ve become utterly fed up with us Myanmar people. I’m a Myanmar person myself, but to be honest, I’ve come to feel disgusted with my own kind – specifically, Myanmar business­people. While I admire and take pride in those who, at a time like this, are sacrificing their own interests to save others’ lives and help the suffering as much as they can, I genuinely feel repulsed by certain Myan­mar businesspeople. I wonder if these people are even Buddhists. Their mindsets seem more like those of vultures, with eyes fixed on devouring prey, thinking, “The more the country suffers, the more money we’ll make.” That’s the kind of attitude I see in them. How do we fix the hearts of people like this? If more and more people develop this kind of mentality, the country will surely fall apart. Changing the mindset of such people when they’re al­ready grown up seems impossi­ble. Even the admonishments of great monks and revered teach­ers wouldn’t be effective. Com­passion for others is something that needs to be instilled from a young age. I’ve come to realize that the attitude of helping those in distress as much as possible, without harbouring undue greed, must be taught from childhood. Only then will it become a habit that carries into adulthood.

Coincidentally, I’d like to share something about a short video from Japan here. It’s a brief clip, likely filmed by a pas­serby, showing young Japanese children — elementary school age — crossing a road in a group. In the video, drivers stop their cars to let the kids cross, and af­ter crossing, instead of just mov­ing on, the children pause and bow respectfully to the drivers who stopped for them. Though the video is short, it spoke vol­umes to me. I thought to myself that Japan, a country reduced to ashes after World War II, man­aged to transform and progress within about fifty years because they instilled values like mutual respect – or, in a way, a sense of humanity – from such a young age. They’ve rooted these quali­ties deep in their children. In our country, too, I believe we should move away from the mindset of teaching these things only when people are older. We should start with elementary-aged kids, teaching them to see others as human, to have empathy, and to respect one another. I’d like to take this opportunity to suggest to those in charge that it’s time to prepare and implement this kind of education proactively.