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Lin and Lian Thuam Cin, former refugees from Myanmar (Photo: Supplied)
Lin and Lian Thuam Cin, former refugees from Myanmar (Photo: Supplied)

SocietyJune 18, 2020

Essential Kiwi Legend: The Myanmar refugees turned bus driver and caregiver

Lin and Lian Thuam Cin, former refugees from Myanmar (Photo: Supplied)
Lin and Lian Thuam Cin, former refugees from Myanmar (Photo: Supplied)

Husband and wife Lin and Lian Thuam Cin are former refugees from Myanmar turned essential workers. This is their story of wanting to help a nation in need after having been helped themselves.

It’s an April morning in Wellington, yet it’s surprisingly warm and unusually quiet, with almost no one on the streets. But for Lin and Lian Thuam Cin, it’s a morning like any other.

Lian is making her way to Cashmere Hospital in Johnsonville where the elderly people she cares for are starting their day. Lin, her husband, is on his way to the Newlands Bus Depot where the number 52 bus is waiting to depart for Wellington.

There’s no traffic on the road today, making for a quick commute for the Thuam Cin family. Most New Zealanders, however, won’t be going out today – the country has just moved to Covid-19 alert level four and people are being asked to stay home. Only certain workers are allowed to commute to work, many of whom work in jobs that are often taken for granted. Now, they’re considered essential to supporting the country in lockdown like bus drivers and caregivers.

This is Lin and Lian’s story.

Lin and Lian Thuam Cin now live in Wellington (Photo: Supplied)

A long journey to safety

Lin and Lian both grew up in Mandalay, the second biggest city in Myanmar, located in the centre of the country. They found each other through their local church, fell in love, and married in 2005.

Lin worked as a delivery man, driving his ute around the country to drop off medicine, while Lian looked after their home. Their lives were like any other until one day in 2005, during one of Lin’s many delivery trips around the country, everything turned upside down.

“It was just me in a small truck, and I went around the bottom of Myanmar then around the country, and finished at the Thai border,” explains Lin.

“In Thailand, I met an old classmate of mine who asked me to bring a parcel back to his family in Myanmar. I took it and left it on the dashboard in my truck.”

“I stopped on the way to use the bathroom and when I came back, I saw the military officers surround my truck and point out the parcel, asking people who the driver of the truck was.”

“The parcel had political connections and wording criticising the military regime, which was illegal. I knew I had to leave immediately otherwise I would be beaten up and they would look for my wife too So, I left my truck and all my belongings, and fled the country.”

Lin and Lian on their wedding day in 2005 (Photo: Supplied)

Once across the border in Thailand, Lin immediately called his wife to explain what had happened. Knowing there was only one choice for her, Lian packed her things and fled Myanmar to meet her husband. This was just the beginning of what was to be a far longer trip than they could’ve imagined.

Knowing Thailand wasn’t somewhere they’d be able to settle permanently, the pair undertook a perilous journey to Malaysia where they hoped to find safety and opportunity. They paid someone familiar with the route to lead them there step-by-step. For three nights and three days, across dense jungles and churning rivers, they travelled.

“When the agent said ‘go, go, go’, we would go,” describes Lin, gesturing the winding steps they took through the jungle. “When they said ‘stop’, we’d stop and keep quiet, and when they said ‘hide’, we’d hide. It was frightening. Where was I? I had no idea!”

“We had no choice because if we went back, there was no way. We just followed the agent,” adds Lian.

But arriving in Malaysia wasn’t the end of their struggle to safety. Life at this time was incredibly difficult. The couple would do whatever jobs they could find and slept wherever there was space – sometimes in an apartment, sometimes in the jungle. Without identity documents, they lived in constant fear of being arrested.

“Life was hard. I don’t know how many times the police caught me. Once, they pulled me over. They wanted to send me to jail and wanted a lot of money. I said ‘can you do a deal? I have a cellphone and bit of money. Take it all and can you make me free?’ I was very nervous. I never forgot that one time, it was very scary,” says Lin.

Like millions of displaced people around the world, Lin and Lian approached the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) to be recognised as refugees and seek protection. Being recognised as a refugee means the UNHCR acknowledges that your life would be at risk if you returned to the country you’ve fled.

When Lin and Lian received refugee status, that meant they were now protected by international law. They would also become part of the 1% of all refugees who are eventually resettled in a country other than the one they sought asylum in, because after five long years living in fear, Lin and Lian finally found safety in New Zealand.

A new life in Aotearoa

Lin and Lian landed in Auckland in 2009. It was a huge change for the couple who had never heard of the country before Immigration New Zealand approached them in Malaysia. But, nonetheless, they were thrilled to be moving to a safe country.

“I was very happy because when I knew when I arrived in New Zealand, my life would be changed,” says Lin.

After six weeks at the Mangere Refugee Resettlement Centre where they lived with other former refugee families  who’d recently arrived to New Zealand, Lin and Lian settled in Wellington. The weather caught them off-guard, but they were amazed by their new home.

“This house is very big [with] three bedrooms. In Malaysia, we lived in very small rooms. They were half the size of our lounge here and we could only fit one bed. So we thought, ‘this is such a big house!’ Everything was already set up with lots of blankets, a fridge, microwave … We are very happy,” says Lian.

The couple with their two sons and Lin’s mother (Photo: Supplied)

Not long after settling in Wellington, Lian gave birth to her first son Daniel. Two years later came David. The boys are now seven and nine years old and have picked up the New Zealand accent while Zomi culture remains present all over the house.

A pathway to employment

When a friend of Lin’s suggested he consider becoming a bus driver, Lin did not think he was confident enough to drive such a large vehicle. But after some more encouragement, Lin put his fears aside and accepted a job as a bus driver-in-training.

After three weeks following bus drivers around the city, studying bus routes, and learning to drive a long vehicle, Lin was told he could start driving by himself.

“Oh, there was a lot of shaking!” laughs Lin. “When I arrived in Johnsonville, I didn’t know where to park the bus. So I reversed to park where I thought it should be. I reversed like a small car, but the distances are different, and the visibility too and… I hit the next bus and the window was smashed into pieces!”

“I had just started and already I make an accident! I was so shaken. I had no idea what happened. The bus driver I hit said ‘don’t worry’. My supervisor called and asked if I was okay to drive. I was fine so I carried on.”

“I was worried because in my country, if something like that happens, you have to pay for the bus and the damage, and you would lose your job. So I thought I’d lost my job. I was very anxious. But the next morning, no one said anything.”

Lin Thuam Cin in front of his Wellington bus (Photo: Supplied)

Despite the incident on his first day on the job, Lin has since grown in confidence and says he enjoys driving people around Wellington.

“My colleagues were very friendly and helpful. They teach me a lot and now I am a lot more confident. It’s been four years now. I am fine, I enjoy it.”

While Lin can be found transporting people, his wife can be found looking after them. Lian went to study at WelTec to become a health care assistant and found a job at Cashmere Hospital in Johnsonville working five to six days a week.

“We help with everything. If someone is not well, or someone can’t walk, we assist with everything they need. For example, we help with showering, going to the bathroom, eating and dressing,” explains Lian.

“Being a caregiver is good for me, I like to look after the old people. I like to think about them as a mum, dad, grandma or grandpa.”

Essential workers

The way things worked changed slightly for these two essential workers. Lin would see fewer people use his bus and they’d be sitting further back, keeping their physical distance from him. Meanwhile, Lian had to wear protective gear and go through special training to protect herself and the residents.

“I was quite worried about the virus. They told us that if someone at work got it, we wouldn’t be able to go home. We would have to stay and we would have to tell our families, which would be very hard,” says Lian.

“The residents were not allowed visitors, so we tried to make them happy. Some days they wanted to see their families. They would cry and say, ‘I want to see my daughter’ or ‘I want to see my son’. It was very hard.”

“[But] I like working there and I like to make fun, by talking or singing a song! Some of the patients have dementia so I want them to have fun and make them happy. Sometimes we write to them or sometimes we use sign language.”

Lin feared he would bring the virus home too, which could have a terrible impact on his elderly mother who now lives with him in Wellington. He always made sure to change his clothes and wash his hands thoroughly before entering the house.

Thankfully, both Lin and Lian kept themselves and their family well. They supported New Zealanders during incredibly uncertain times, just like how New Zealand supported the pair 11 years ago.

“We are so happy, I’m always thanking this country and its people are so kind. The government let me come here, it changed my life and I’m always thinking about how I can give back to them. Working as a bus driver is one way,” Lin says with a warm smile.

All across Aotearoa, thousands of former refugees are doing amazing things in their communities. Some are essential workers who supported Kiwis during the Covid-19 lockdown. Over the next few days, in the run-up to World Refugee Day on June 20 and in collaboration with the New Zealand Red Cross, we’re sharing some of their stories.

Read more:

Essential Kiwi Legend: The Afghan refugee who became an emergency nurse

Essential Kiwi Legend: The Syrian refugee turned Dunedin grocery store worker

Tributes to Grace Millane at the  roundabout in Titirangi, Auckland (Photo by Fiona Goodall/Getty Images
Tributes to Grace Millane at the roundabout in Titirangi, Auckland (Photo by Fiona Goodall/Getty Images

OPINIONSocietyJune 18, 2020

The UK plans to ban the ‘rough sex gone wrong’ defence. Should we follow?

Tributes to Grace Millane at the  roundabout in Titirangi, Auckland (Photo by Fiona Goodall/Getty Images
Tributes to Grace Millane at the roundabout in Titirangi, Auckland (Photo by Fiona Goodall/Getty Images

With its use criticised in cases like Grace Millane’s, criminology lecturer Dr Samantha Keene outlines the many reasons why the ‘rough sex’ defence is so problematic. 

Internationally, concerns are being raised about the increasing use of the “rough sex gone wrong” claim in courtroom defences to murder. Campaigners at We Can’t Consent To This point to 60 UK women killed by men who claimed the women were “consenting” parties to the violence. Previous trials demonstrate these claims are successful and can result in lesser charges, lighter sentences or, most recently, no prosecution at all.

The rough sex defence has been used in New Zealand, perhaps most famously in the trial of Grace Millane’s murderer. The Millane trial dominated news headlines both here and around the globe, with rough sex a key aspect of the case. Millane’s murderer claimed she had initiated rough sex, consented to it, and her subsequent death by strangulation was a tragic, unexpected and unforeseen accident.   

Rough sex was also a key question in a case against a Palmerston North man accused of rape and assault. In this case, whether “rape” or “consensual rough sex” had occurred was the key question in the trial. The man and woman had experimented with role-playing during sex and had a safe word. The defence focused on the fact the safe word was not verbalised, despite the woman reporting she was hit, choked and raped. The woman said she pleaded for him to stop and even vomited during the encounter. Despite these claims, the jury found he had reasonable grounds to believe she was consenting due to their prior history of engaging in rough sex. He was found not guilty of rape and assault several days later.

This week, the UK justice minister told MPs the “rough sex gone wrong” defence will be outlawed in new domestic abuse legislation. Due to become law later this year, the bill would make the rough sex defence inexcusable, and clarity around proposals for change will be provided in the coming weeks. In light of these changes, should New Zealand be following suit?

At the conclusion of the Millane trial, the officer in charge, Scott Beard, slammed the use of the rough sex defence and said it should not be able to be used in court. Some legal experts opposed such a position, claiming that because defendants are innocent until proven guilty they have the right to defend themselves in any way possible, regardless of the consequences of that defence. 

The rough sex defence is worrying for several reasons. The defence is a remarkably gendered one, as it is overwhelmingly used by men against women. When the rough sex defence is used as a defence to murder, the woman has no ability to respond and witnesses are not often present. This is not dissimilar to many sexual violence cases, which become characterised by “he said, she said” scenarios. In defence to murder, however, the only voice presented is his. The scenario simply becomes “he said” she consented.

The rough sex defence results in a range of negative consequences for victims and their families. It encourages discussions about women’s previous sexual histories, as in the trial of Grace Millane, which can ultimately work against them. If women have previously expressed their sexuality in a particular way, even with a different sexual partner, this can be used as evidence of her interest in particular types of sex and the likelihood she would have consented to such practices. 

The defence is a harrowing ordeal for victims and their families, with victims’ sexual histories laid out for the public to see. Introducing this evidence serves to make a suggestion about the type of woman the victim was, drawing on wider sexual double standards that see women shamed for their sexual conquests while men are heralded for theirs. 

Lastly, the rough sex defence relies on subjective understandings of what counts as rough sex, despite it being an ill-defined concept. Women’s magazines frequently state women enjoy rough sex and should try it to please themselves and their partners. Mainstream pornography may fuel this as it frequently eroticises aggression and rough sex, often depicted through behaviours such as “choking” and “spanking”. These acts are depicted as consensual and pleasurable in pornography and rough sex has become a sort of culturally acceptable, expected form of sex. However, we know little about how people understand it or where the line is drawn between “rough” and “violent” behaviours. Given New Zealand’s alarmingly high levels of violence against women generally, we need to know more about this phenomenon.

There are many issues with the rough sex defence and we should watch the changes in the UK closely. But we also need to take a step back and think about rough sex more critically. We need to know more about how it is understood, how different people define it, where the appeal comes from, and how consent is actively negotiated and communicated when it occurs. We know that when people consent to rough sex they are not consenting to murder, but what we don’t know is what “counts” as rough sex in the first place.