Women driven to underworld crime by wage crisis in Myanmar’s commercial capital
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2026年7月18日
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Mizzima English
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🇲🇲Myanmar🇺🇸United States

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Women driven to underworld crime by wage crisis in Myanmar’s commercial capital

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Dhatu for Mizzima Amidst flashing multi-coloured lights in the darkness, a crowd dances rhythmically to the deafening music down a backstreet in Yangon. The majority of this crowd appears to consist of underage teenagers, both male and female, some estimated to be only around 14 years old. They gather nightly in venues commonly known as “high rooms” (private party rooms), KTV lounges, and private party spaces, dancing until dawn. Although strangers, they eagerly share and inhale from glasses packed with ice cubes. In drug user parlance, this inhalation is meant to “keep the high going without crashing.” This practice is driven by the belief that it sustains the high induced by party drugs like “E” (Ecstasy, coloured pills shaped like candies or cartoon characters), “K” (Ketamine, a white powder), and “Happy Water.” Ma Yun (a pseudonym) covertly meets a 16-year-old girl near the restroom of a private party room and slips some packages into her hand. “Here is your order, sister. I guarantee the quality. Not shoddy stuffs. If the high doesn’t last, I’ll refund you,” Ma Yun, 27, tells the young girl. Having never met in person, the girl and Ma Yun built rapport on social media, trading these illicit goods purely on trust. The young girl then slips into the restroom with her companions, including young men, to consume the drugs. Despite gender-segregated restrooms, patrons move in and out freely without any intervention from staff or security. The items handed over by Ma Yun were packets of Ecstasy (E) and Ketamine (K). Making an easy 500,000 MMK (approx. $250) that night helps her manage her mounting debts. “I know this isn’t decent work. I used to blame both dealers and users. But I’ve been unable to pay off high-interest loans (10% interest) from about five lenders for a long time. This is the only way I’ve found some financial relief,” Ma Yun shares. Ma Yun is an ordinary employee at a major auto parts shop. Despite years of hard work, her monthly salary never exceeded 350,000 MMK (approx. $170). While others resigned due to the unsustainably low wages, Ma Yun, a migrant from rural Myanmar living in a rented hostel in Myanmar’s commercial capital, found it impossible to switch jobs amid the current employment crisis. Frequent payroll delays from her company caused her to miss interest payment deadlines, trapping her in a cycle of debt. Furthermore, unfair salary deductions disguised as “fines” occasionally left her with only 250,000 to 300,000 MMK a month. To pay rent, loan interest, and feed herself on that salary, Ma Yun had to cut back severely, rarely eat meat and survive on 1,000 MMK rice packs paired with cheap dishes like fried potatoes, eggs, or water spinach on a rotating basis. While hostel rent, basic commodities, toiletries, and commodity prices soared monthly, wages remained stagnant. Desperate, Ma Yun turned to drug dealing, despite knowing it ruins lives. She adds that on some nights in the private VIP rooms, she also turned to occasional sex work when meeting wealthy, middle-aged men. Similarly, Ma Pa Pa, a 24-year-old developer who moved from Mandalay to Yangon, found her salary of around 500,000 MMK at an IT firm entirely insufficient. Consequently, she also moonlights as a drug dealer. “How can salary cover living expenses? I didn’t want to live in a hostel, so I rented an apartment with two friends. Rent alone costs over 300,000 MMK a month. Under a three-month lease, it’s 350,000 MMK, and that’s just my share. Food costs, even for vegetables, are rising. Even after cutting down on personal care products, 500,000 MMK a month isn’t enough. That’s why I connected with acquaintances to do this,” Ma Pa Pa explains. Ma Pa Pa also admits to using the substances herself to test the quality of her merchandise. According to Ma Pa Pa and Ma Yun, E (Ecstasy) goes for 40,000 to 50,000 MMK per pill, K (Ketamine) costs 100,000 MMK per gram, and “Happy Water” (a cocktail of six drugs) ranges from 400,000 to 500,000 MMK per sachet. Drugs are big business. On International Day Against Drug Abuse and Illicit Trafficking on 26 June 2026, the military regime in Naypyidaw incinerated seized drugs and precursor chemicals valued at 2.21 trillion MMK (approx. US$603 million) nationwide. Among these, drug seizures in Yangon accounted for the largest share, valued at over US$321 million. However, in reality, insiders estimate that over a thousand pills of Ecstasy alone are sold nightly in Yangon’s private party rooms and KTVs. Many, like Ma Yun and Ma Pa Pa, have entered the nightlife industry as drug sellers due to wage stagnation. More worryingly, Ma Pa Pa notes that some women are quitting their day jobs entirely to enter the world of high-end hostess or “sugar dating” (seeking wealthy sponsors) as an easy way out. As Yangon grows more crowded, job opportunities are shrinking. Conversely, the illicit night trade of drug peddling is expanding rapidly in urban areas. Salaries vary by company type, sector, and experience. According to data gathered by Mizzima, the breakdown is as follows: On average, junior staff receive 300,000 to 400,000 MMK; senior staff receive around 600,000 MMK; supervisors/foremen earn 800,000 to 1,100,000 MMK; and assistant managers make 1,000,000 to 1,500,000 MMK. Some companies reportedly pay even less than these standard rates. Economists attribute low wages primarily to Myanmar’s overall economic downturn, rising fuel prices, the aftermath of the military coup, political instability, inflation, and falling corporate revenues. Under the current military-run Ministry of Labour, the minimum wage is set at 4,800 MMK per day plus an allowance of 3,000 MMK, totalling 7,800 MMK daily. Trade unions and economic analysts point out that this rate, yielding less than 250,000 MMK monthly, is grossly inadequate for basic food and housing in Yangon amid currency depreciation and soaring inflation. “While basic living expenses and food prices have skyrocketed, labour wages remain flat. Given current conditions, even a basic worker needs at least 15,000 to 18,000 MMK daily to survive. The rate set by the ministry doesn’t even cover one day’s meals,” a labour rights activist stated. A June 2025 UNDP report revealed that out of Yangon’s 6.2 million population, 2.7 million (about one in four households) face poverty. The report suggested a decent daily wage for a worker should range from 11,000 to 25,600 MMK (as of mid-2025). The report highlighted that Yangon’s poverty rate jumped from 10% in 2017 to 43% in 2023, following the military coup. Currently, basic prices in Yangon are extreme: low-grade rice is 4,500–5,000 MMK per pyi; peanut oil is 24,000 MMK per viss (approx. 16 Kg); a large egg is 700 MMK; salt is 2,000 MMK per viss; small onions are 5,000 MMK per viss; palm oil is 18,000–20,000 MMK per viss (on the black market due to household registration-based rationing by the military); detergent is 10,000–20,000 MMK per kg; and a

Dhatu for Mizzima Amidst flashing multi-coloured lights in the darkness, a crowd dances rhythmically to the deafening music down a backstreet in Yangon. The majority of this crowd appears to consist of underage teenagers, both male and female, some estimated to be only around 14 years old. They gather nightly in venues commonly known as “high rooms” (private party rooms), KTV lounges, and private party spaces, dancing until dawn. Although strangers, they eagerly share and inhale from glasses packed with ice cubes. In drug user parlance, this inhalation is meant to “keep the high going without crashing.” This practice is driven by the belief that it sustains the high induced by party drugs like “E” (Ecstasy, coloured pills shaped like candies or cartoon characters), “K” (Ketamine, a white powder), and “Happy Water.” Ma Yun (a pseudonym) covertly meets a 16-year-old girl near the restroom of a private party room and slips some packages into her hand. “Here is your order, sister. I guarantee the quality. Not shoddy stuffs. If the high doesn’t last, I’ll refund you,” Ma Yun, 27, tells the young girl. Having never met in person, the girl and Ma Yun built rapport on social media, trading these illicit goods purely on trust. The young girl then slips into the restroom with her companions, including young men, to consume the drugs. Despite gender-segregated restrooms, patrons move in and out freely without any intervention from staff or security. The items handed over by Ma Yun were packets of Ecstasy (E) and Ketamine (K). Making an easy 500,000 MMK (approx. $250) that night helps her manage her mounting debts. “I know this isn’t decent work. I used to blame both dealers and users. But I’ve been unable to pay off high-interest loans (10% interest) from about five lenders for a long time. This is the only way I’ve found some financial relief,” Ma Yun shares. Ma Yun is an ordinary employee at a major auto parts shop. Despite years of hard work, her monthly salary never exceeded 350,000 MMK (approx. $170). While others resigned due to the unsustainably low wages, Ma Yun, a migrant from rural Myanmar living in a rented hostel in Myanmar’s commercial capital, found it impossible to switch jobs amid the current employment crisis. Frequent payroll delays from her company caused her to miss interest payment deadlines, trapping her in a cycle of debt. Furthermore, unfair salary deductions disguised as “fines” occasionally left her with only 250,000 to 300,000 MMK a month. To pay rent, loan interest, and feed herself on that salary, Ma Yun had to cut back severely, rarely eat meat and survive on 1,000 MMK rice packs paired with cheap dishes like fried potatoes, eggs, or water spinach on a rotating basis. While hostel rent, basic commodities, toiletries, and commodity prices soared monthly, wages remained stagnant. Desperate, Ma Yun turned to drug dealing, despite knowing it ruins lives. She adds that on some nights in the private VIP rooms, she also turned to occasional sex work when meeting wealthy, middle-aged men. Similarly, Ma Pa Pa, a 24-year-old developer who moved from Mandalay to Yangon, found her salary of around 500,000 MMK at an IT firm entirely insufficient. Consequently, she also moonlights as a drug dealer. “How can salary cover living expenses? I didn’t want to live in a hostel, so I rented an apartment with two friends. Rent alone costs over 300,000 MMK a month. Under a three-month lease, it’s 350,000 MMK, and that’s just my share. Food costs, even for vegetables, are rising. Even after cutting down on personal care products, 500,000 MMK a month isn’t enough. That’s why I connected with acquaintances to do this,” Ma Pa Pa explains. Ma Pa Pa also admits to using the substances herself to test the quality of her merchandise. According to Ma Pa Pa and Ma Yun, E (Ecstasy) goes for 40,000 to 50,000 MMK per pill, K (Ketamine) costs 100,000 MMK per gram, and “Happy Water” (a cocktail of six drugs) ranges from 400,000 to 500,000 MMK per sachet. Drugs are big business. On International Day Against Drug Abuse and Illicit Trafficking on 26 June 2026, the military regime in Naypyidaw incinerated seized drugs and precursor chemicals valued at 2.21 trillion MMK (approx. US$603 million) nationwide. Among these, drug seizures in Yangon accounted for the largest share, valued at over US$321 million. However, in reality, insiders estimate that over a thousand pills of Ecstasy alone are sold nightly in Yangon’s private party rooms and KTVs. Many, like Ma Yun and Ma Pa Pa, have entered the nightlife industry as drug sellers due to wage stagnation. More worryingly, Ma Pa Pa notes that some women are quitting their day jobs entirely to enter the world of high-end hostess or “sugar dating” (seeking wealthy sponsors) as an easy way out. As Yangon grows more crowded, job opportunities are shrinking. Conversely, the illicit night trade of drug peddling is expanding rapidly in urban areas. Salaries vary by company type, sector, and experience. According to data gathered by Mizzima, the breakdown is as follows: On average, junior staff receive 300,000 to 400,000 MMK; senior staff receive around 600,000 MMK; supervisors/foremen earn 800,000 to 1,100,000 MMK; and assistant managers make 1,000,000 to 1,500,000 MMK. Some companies reportedly pay even less than these standard rates. Economists attribute low wages primarily to Myanmar’s overall economic downturn, rising fuel prices, the aftermath of the military coup, political instability, inflation, and falling corporate revenues. Under the current military-run Ministry of Labour, the minimum wage is set at 4,800 MMK per day plus an allowance of 3,000 MMK, totalling 7,800 MMK daily. Trade unions and economic analysts point out that this rate, yielding less than 250,000 MMK monthly, is grossly inadequate for basic food and housing in Yangon amid currency depreciation and soaring inflation. “While basic living expenses and food prices have skyrocketed, labour wages remain flat. Given current conditions, even a basic worker needs at least 15,000 to 18,000 MMK daily to survive. The rate set by the ministry doesn’t even cover one day’s meals,” a labour rights activist stated. A June 2025 UNDP report revealed that out of Yangon’s 6.2 million population, 2.7 million (about one in four households) face poverty. The report suggested a decent daily wage for a worker should range from 11,000 to 25,600 MMK (as of mid-2025). The report highlighted that Yangon’s poverty rate jumped from 10% in 2017 to 43% in 2023, following the military coup. Currently, basic prices in Yangon are extreme: low-grade rice is 4,500–5,000 MMK per pyi; peanut oil is 24,000 MMK per viss (approx. 16 Kg); a large egg is 700 MMK; salt is 2,000 MMK per viss; small onions are 5,000 MMK per viss; palm oil is 18,000–20,000 MMK per viss (on the black market due to household registration-based rationing by the military); detergent is 10,000–20,000 MMK per kg; and a

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