The Muster Man

Fri 7 Mar 2025

This morning when I open the door to the staffroom, surprisingly I’m not met by the usual chorus of ‘Mingalarbar’ as the Burmese teachers greet me.

It’s clear from the intensity in the room that today’s not a normal day.

Sister Annie, who manages the Marist Asia Foundation’s secondary program, is speaking in her native tongue at the front of the room. The seventeen Burmese teachers are all seated at their desks, listening to her impassioned address.    

I tip-toe to my desk and gently lift my chair, careful not to disrupt the sombre mood.

Annie’s words may be foreign, but not her tone. There’s anguish in her voice; dismay on the teachers’ faces.

The end of Annie’s speech is met by silence. Eyes meet across the room, all asking the same silent question. “What happens now?”

I turn to the Year Four teacher to my left. ‘Everything alright?’ I ask with two parts concern and one part confusion.

‘Someone bad is in Ranong,’ she whispers fearfully. ‘We call him the Muster Man.’

No one can tell me his actual name. What they do know is that he’s a radical, dangerous political figure, determined to remove migrants from Thailand.

Just last week, 200 migrants were arrested in Ranong. Two women, the rest men. Fourteen boats took them across the border to Myanmar, where they were allegedly conscripted into the Myanmar army.

The Muster Man earned his alias for mustering troops – both military and police – that share his intolerant agenda. Where he goes, they follow.

On his last visit to Ranong, a squad of soldiers stormed the Year Four classroom and demanded documents from the unsuspecting Burmese teacher.

Myanmar nationals, even with a visa, passport, and degree aren’t permitted to teach in Thai schools. 

Fortunately, the teacher didn’t panic. She claimed that she was merely supervising the students in the absence of their Thai teacher. Her quick wit, combined with some cunning negotiation from our Thai-national operations manager, was enough to prevent the troops from taking further action.

They haven’t returned since, but with the Muster Man back in town, teachers fear that history may repeat itself. And this time, it could impact the education of hundreds of migrant children. 

The Muster Man isn’t alone in the anti-immigration offensive.

Last month, a coalition of Myanmar workers in Thailand, known as Bright Future, submitted requests to the Office of the United Nations (UN) High Commissioner for Human Rights. They urged the UN to improve labour conditions and care for foreign workers and denounce the upcoming general elections in Myanmar – widely seen as a sham.  

The next day, anti-immigration group, Thai’s Won’t Tolerate, marched on the UN’s Bangkok offices to protest the coalition’s requests.

And on the same day, Myanmar’s National Defence and Security Council declared that Myanmar’s state of emergency would be extended for another six months, further delaying the long-promised elections that were last held in late 2020, just months before a military coup halted Myanmar’s ten-year journey to democracy.

It’s a stab in the back for the people of Myanmar; another hurdle in the struggle to restore democracy. The fate of Myanmar may now lie in the hands of rebel forces as they continue efforts to oust the military junta.

However, though it may be scarce, migrant support is out there.

People’s Party MP Parit Wacharasindhu defended migrant workers in September last year when his party was accused of wanting to boost the rights of Myanmar workers at the cost of Thai taxpayers.

The MP reminded critics this was not a matter of rights, but an attempt to end corruption relating to the employment of unregistered Myanmar workers. Parit said that half of some six million Myanmar nationals working in Thailand were doing so unlawfully due to corrupt collusion between law enforcers and employers, and the only way to fix this issue would be to register and legalise migrant workers.

‘The People’s Party policy is that any issue affecting people’s quality of life should be addressed openly, even if it’s sensitive,’ he concluded.

Uncertainty is a fact of life for Myanmar migrants living in Ranong.

The Muster Man has returned. The civil war at home rages on four years after the coup. There are more questions now than ever before: “Will today be my last in Thailand?” “Will peace prevail in Myanmar?”

And the biggest of all. “What happens now?”