Inside the Junta’s Gulag for Girls: Forced Labor and Exploitation in Myanmar’s Juvenile Prisons
Leaning against walls in rhythmic unison, young women sit with white cloths spread across their knees, their eyes fixed intently on the edges they are sewing as if their lives depend on it. For those who cannot keep up with the grueling pace, the punishment is swift: they are sent to the fields to toil with heavy hoes.
In these “training schools” for underage girls—effectively juvenile prisons run by the Department of Social Welfare—such punishments and forced labor have become a grim daily routine.
Beyond the manual labor, a “blood-sucking prison economy” is thriving within these walls. Factories have turned these detention centers into exploitative “labor pastures,” choosing them for their remote locations, lack of oversight, and a steady supply of cheap, captive workers. Here, young women produce high-quality goods for a pittance under extreme pressure.
“They threatened us, saying that if we didn’t work, we’d be forced to carry buckets of human waste, just like the ‘children of the state’ (wards of the state) have to do,” said Ma Nay Chi (pseudonym), who experienced the horrors of a Yangon detention center firsthand.
For these young detainees, the mental and physical toll is immense. They are caught between the stress of their ongoing legal battles and the crushing demands of the prison economy. “Whether you want to or not, you are forced to work. Whether it’s dark, scorching hot, or freezing cold, they make you sew and perform other tasks. There isn’t a single moment of rest,” Ma Nay Chi added. “Even on court days or when our hands are covered in sores, we cannot refuse. If we complain, we are beaten.”
The crisis is exacerbated by a starvation budget. The Social Welfare Department allocates only 1,500 Myanmar Kyats (approx. $0.30 USD) per day for a detainee’s total food rations. At a time when the exchange rate exceeds 5,000 Kyats per dollar, this amount buys only the lowest quality rice—often filled with grit and dirt, worse than animal feed. While official menus on the walls suggest balanced meals, they are nothing more than a facade for visitors.
Sensing an opportunity, businesses have moved in. Detention centers such as the Vocational Training School for Women (VTW), the Thanlyin Social Welfare School for boys, and centers in Kawhmu and Twante have become hubs for this exploitative industry. While the official policy claims to “facilitate reintegration and job opportunities,” the reality is pure exploitation.
Authorities argue that the income from this labor covers the shortfall in food and general expenses, effectively using the children to subsidize their own incarceration. Business owners use sweet talk and small gifts like lipstick or nail polish to lure teenagers into the work, before imposing impossible quotas and commission-based systems where inmates are forced to monitor each other.
“Business owners offer the work because it’s cheap, and the schools accept it for the extra income. The children only receive about two-fifths of the actual wages,” said Ma Nilar (pseudonym), who is close to the detention community.
The labor is physically destructive. Detainees sew handkerchiefs for urban malls, stitch long coats for export, and perform the painstaking task of “hair-hooking” for the wig industry. For a handkerchief that sells in high-end malls, a girl receives only 250 Kyats (approx. $0.05 USD) per piece, with a daily quota of ten. The youngest children involved in this labor are only nine years old.
The “hair-hooking” work is particularly hazardous. “The hair is often real human hair, and it’s filthy—filled with lice and nits. After handling it for a week, the girls’ hands break out in severe scabies and sores,” Ma Nilar explained. If they fail to meet the three-day quota for this delicate work, they are sent to dig the earth under the sun.
The BWU (Burmese Women’s Union) noted that these centers are being used as a mechanism of oppression rather than rehabilitation, specifically targeting political prisoners and anti-coup youth.
Health care is virtually non-existent. Skin diseases like scabies, ringworm, and fungal infections are rampant due to the lack of hygiene and sterilized bedding. “Some girls have scabies covering their entire bodies, even their faces,” Ma Nilar said. The school clinics are understocked, often providing only expired paracetamol. Any real medical costs must be borne by the parents—a luxury many cannot afford.
In November 2025, the military junta released a propaganda video showing girls peacefully knitting and embroidering at a “vocational school” in Yangon. But behind the cinema-grade footage lies a reality of violence and abuse. Ma Nay Chi revealed that the principal of one school has been known to sexually abuse the “state wards” and brutally beat the detainees.
The food remains a source of misery. “When you walk into the dining hall, you can see flies swarming over the plates from a distance. The ‘curry’ looks like an egg dropped into soapy handwash,” said Ma Thida (pseudonym).
Despite the 2019 Child Law Section 93(e), which prohibits forced hard labor for minors, the junta continues to operate these centers as “child prisons.”
“A juvenile detention center is just a child prison,” Ma Nay Chi concluded. “They call it that themselves, and that is exactly what it is.”
Note: This news has been translated and presented using AI.