A Cambodian American singer/songwriter who has been living in Cambodia wrote a heart wrenching letter about how her family survived the Thai’s Army cruelty after having fled Cambodia in 1979 when Pol Pot era ended.

Read her letter below:

Laura Mam writes:

I wanted to take the time to write this post because it is deeply personal. It carries the weight of my family’s lived experience and a painful part of our nation’s past, which now echoes into our present.

I begin not with politics, but with a personal truth, a piece of my family’s history that resonates painfully with what we are witnessing once again at the border between Cambodia and Thailand.

In 1979, my mother and her family, including my grandmother who was very weak, one of my aunties who was seven months pregnant, young uncles, and cousins who were just children, fled the devastation of the Khmer Rouge regime. On foot, they made their way from Kampong Cham province in search of safety, hoping to find refuge along the Thai border.

They crossed into Nong Chan refugee camp through Nimit. But instead of refuge, they were met with displacement once again. The Thai military told the refugees they were being taken to Bangkok. Instead, they were loaded onto buses, asked to leave their belongings behind except for food and water, and driven to the cliffs of Preah Vihear.

There, at the edge of a mountain, the truth was revealed.

Below them was a dense landmine field. The refugees, 43,000 in number, were ordered to descend into the unknown. Those who hesitated were met with bullets. Those who tried to turn back were met with more force. My mother’s family, along with so many others, endured unimaginable fear and watched even pregnant women get sprayed with bullets. People dared not take a step in any direction, terrified of triggering a mine.

Miraculously, my family survived because the landmines that had already claimed so many lives had also carved a narrow path forward by following dead bodies littered along the way. But the cost of survival was immense. The elderly who could not continue were left behind, not out of cruelty, but because carrying them was impossible. My family eventually made it out of the landmine field and into a second refugee camp, but the trauma of that time, and of being treated as disposable in a moment of great human need, remains etched in our history.

This is not a story told for blame, it is a story told so that history is not forgotten.

Today, more than 45 years later, Cambodia once again finds itself in a moment of distress at our border. Tensions have escalated, and once again, Cambodian people are feeling pressure, fear, and deep emotional pain in a place where there should be peace.

But Cambodia today is not what it was in 1979.

We are no longer a shattered nation. We are a people who have rebuilt from immense suffering. We are a nation that knows the cost of war and values peace above all. We do not seek conflict, and we do not desire confrontation. But we do believe in protecting our dignity and the truth of our history.

This moment is not about assigning blame, it is about asking for understanding.

It is about asking the world to see Cambodia not as a small, passive country caught in someone else’s game, but as a sovereign people with memories of injustice, a commitment to peace, and a voice that deserves to be heard.

So we ask, why would Cambodia ever seek aggression? What could we possibly gain? Nothing.

We have seen too much loss, and what we want most is to preserve peace for our future generations. That is why music thrives here. That is why creativity is alive again. Because peace allows the soul of a country to breathe.

I ask the international community, journalists, observers, and neighbors to listen. Listen not just to the loudest headlines, but to the quieter truths. Hear the voices of people who have suffered in silence before, and who now choose to speak with dignity.

Injustice, no matter how subtle or strategic, cannot be ignored. We must all hold ourselves to the highest standard of humanity. Every nation, large or small, deserves safety, respect, and sovereignty.

Cambodia is not asking for pity. We are asking to be seen. We are asking to be understood.

Let us work together toward dialogue, mutual respect, and peace.