Amid Myanmar’s civil war, youths find hope in the faith of Carlo Acutis, symbolizing courage, unity, and resilience in times of conflict.
Newsroom (20/01/2026 Gaudium Press ) In the heart of Kachin State’s embattled capital, Myitkyina, a new statue gleams under the light filtering through the stained glass of the Cathedral of St. Columbanus. It is the likeness of a boy—laptop tucked under one arm, the faint curve of a smile across his face. The figure is that of Carlo Acutis, the young Italian beatified by the Catholic Church and celebrated as the “patron of the internet.” His image now stands as a symbol of hope in one of the world’s most war-torn corners.
The unveiling of the statue marked a dual milestone: the tenth anniversary of priestly ordination and the first episcopal anniversary of Bishop John La Sam, shepherd of the Diocese of Myitkyina. But for the faithful gathered that day, the bronze figure meant something deeper.
“The intention behind the statue,” explained Father John Aung Htoi, “is that young people can learn from Carlo Acutis how to bear witness to faith in their lives, even in times of trial—especially during this difficult time our nation is experiencing.”
A Model for a Wounded Generation
For many young Burmese, spiritual role models feel distant—overshadowed by the noise of social media, the harshness of daily survival, and the silence of war. That is why the diocese’s decision to place Acutis, the global symbol of youthful holiness, in the cathedral carries such emotional weight.
“Carlo is an example for those who must find their way to adulthood amid chaos,” Father Aung Htoi continued. “Drugs, violence, and crime surround them. Social media, instead of being a tool for connection, can expose them to harm. The Church wants to show that the internet—like Carlo used it—can also be a channel of grace.”
Across Kachin State, where the civil war’s front lines cut through mountain valleys, young people endure more than just spiritual trials. Many are displaced, orphaned, or conscripted by the warring factions. The Church, often one of the few institutions still standing, has become both refuge and guide.
“We try to stay close to them,” said the priest. “Through youth camps, faith formation, and education, we want to help them grow and take responsibility for their lives. They need understanding, guidance, and trust. And they must learn to trust themselves.”
The Shadow of Lost Youth
Myanmar’s young generation bears the heaviest burden of a war they did not choose. In towns under siege, adolescents wander streets without homes or schools. Many have lost parents to conflict or addiction. The threat of conscription looms over every household, and the fear of abduction by the military keeps thousands in hiding.
In the Archdiocese of Mandalay, the Salesian order has carved out a small sanctuary against that darkness. The “Don Bosco” Youth Center, founded in 2014, shelters more than sixty children and teenagers from dangerous or broken backgrounds. There, amid the hum of classrooms and fields of play, Salesian missionaries offer not only food and safety but also dignity.
“Our mission,” the priests write, “is to accompany them in their growth with security, dignity, and hope.”
It is a modest effort, but in a country where despair has become commonplace, even a single restored life resonates loudly.
A Generation Awakened
When Myanmar’s generals seized power in February 2021, young people filled the streets in defiance, waving handmade signs that read We Want Democracy. Many of those same protesters now lie in unmarked graves, or have taken up arms in the jungles alongside ethnic resistance forces.
The military’s 2024 conscription campaign deepened the crisis, forcibly drafting an estimated 60,000 young men and driving nearly 100,000 more to flee, mostly into Thailand. Yet repression has also forged a hardened moral clarity among Myanmar’s youth.
For them, the struggle against dictatorship is as much spiritual as political—a fight for the soul of a nation. “The coup changed everything,” said one youth catechist from Myitkyina, who asked not to be named for safety reasons. “We understand now that faith cannot be separate from justice.”
The Light That Endures
Myanmar’s young people, once heralded as the nation’s hope during the brief democratic decade (2010–2020), have again become its conscience. Amid loss and exile, they still dream aloud of a country built on “peace, justice, democracy, dialogue, and unity.”
And in the cool, shadowed nave of St. Columbanus Cathedral, their new patron saint seems to listen. Carlo Acutis, who died at 15 in Italy decades before these young Burmese were born, spent his short life proclaiming that “the Eucharist is my highway to Heaven.” Now, from his pedestal in war-scarred Myitkyina, his presence marks not a relic of foreign piety but a testament of shared youth and unyielding faith.
As Father Aung Htoi put it simply: “Young people are the future. And the future deserves hope.”
- Raju Hasmukh with files from Fides News
Related Images:
