Buthidaung was surrounded and shelled from all directions on May 17, 2024. On the same day, a calculated act of mass violence was also unfolded in Ward No. 2, Buthidaung. Her account provides crucial insight into the nature of the attack and the destruction of the Rohingya community and its belongings. They came from all sides and opened fire on men, women, and children, she recounts. “We were in chaos, and there was nowhere to hide.” Following the gunfire, the attackers turned to firebombing. Homes were set ablaze, one after another, until the entire village was engulfed in flames. The mosque, the madrasa, and the market, critical pillars of community life, were all destroyed. Zomila lost not only her home but her family’s farmland, all inherited from her parents and valued at approximately 80 million Myanmar Kyat. “They burned the mosque where we prayed, the madrasa where our children studied, and the market where we found food and medicine. They didn’t just destroy our homes. They tried to destroy who we are,” she stated in her testimony. In Maungdaw, Jani Alom witnessed similar tactics. Homes were first looted, then burned, and residents were forced to flee under shelling. Jani Alom, a 30-year-old Rohingya man originally from Maungdaw Township in Rakhine State, now lives as a refugee in Camp 1E in Bangladesh. His testimony reflects the destruction of homes and villages to the forced loss of livelihood and identity. His place, like many in Maungdaw and Buthidaung, was engulfed in chaos as the Myanmar military and AA launched coordinated assaults involving shelling, arson, and looting. ‘They attacked the place with everything like guns, fire, and fear’ Jani recounts. They burned homes, stole belongings, and left nothing but ash. Rohingya families were driven from their homes under direct threat. Military shelling destroyed homes and farms, while arson left villages reduced to rubble overnight. The military and AA looted what they could before forcing families to flee, making it impossible to recover anything. He described watching, from afar, as village after village, including Kuandaung (Kwan Dine) , U Hla Pay , and Fuk Fara (East Village), engulfed in flames. At midnight in 2024, the village of Oli Moroung, nestled in Buthidaung Township, Rakhine State, found itself in chaos. The AA launched a sudden and violent attack. It eventually shattered the fragile existence of its Rohingya residents. Among them was Enamul Haq, a 35-year-old rickshaw driver, who now resides in Camp 27 of Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh. His harrowing account reveals not just the horror of the night his village burned, but the deeper ethnic cleansing agenda 75