Lost Land

A little girl with long black hair tied in a ponytail stands with her back to us. She counts to ten before setting off to search for her little brother. We are inside a bamboo house. The game shifts from hide-and-seek to “one, two, three, freeze”, and eventually devolves into shooting each other with plastic pistols. It continues until their father calls them to begin packing.

Lost Land, a feature film by Japanese director Akio Fujimoto, chronicles the perilous migration of two children, Somaira (nine) and Shafi (four), as they make their way from the Kutupalong Refugee Camp in Bangladesh, the world’s largest refugee camp, to join an uncle living in Malaysia.

Their father has arranged for them to travel with their aunt, who has become their stepmother since their own mother passed away. As dusk falls, the family gathers to pray the Magreb namaz, one of the five daily prayers in Islam. They ask God to keep them safe and to grant them safe passage. Then they set off into the night with a group of others, disappearing into the darkness.

The persecution of the Rohingya, a Muslim minority in Myanmar, dates back at least to the 1970s. Since then, they have been repeatedly targeted by both the government and Buddhist nationalist groups, culminating in the genocide of 2017. Today, approximately 3.5 million Rohingya are displaced. Around one million stateless Rohingya remain in refugee camps in Bangladesh, while another 280’000 are scattered across Malaysia, India, and Thailand.

Days pass during this journey, marked by a steady progression through the night: on foot, by boat, through water, by motorcycle, by truck. At each stage they are handed over to new passers, men paid to smuggle them across borders, men with varying degrees of ill intent. Every crossing carries the risk of interception by police or border guards: in the best case, arrest; in the worst, gunfire.

Days pass, and the only solace they find are in namaz, the ritual prayers, and other Rohingya, often complete strangers: men, women, old and young. People who show a sense of community that extends beyond blood relations. They have little else. If God wills it, inshallah, they will arrive. If God wills it, inshallah, He will provide.

Although Lost Land is not a documentary, it closely follows experiences lived by the film’s producer and actors. Fujimoto refuses the shortcuts that fiction might allow: the comfort of a conventional narrative arc. The film is not made for our comfort. Instead its pacing conveys existence lived under constant threat marked by displacement and exile.

And yet, amid this brutality and fear, Somaira and Shafi always default to playfulness. It is heart-breaking to see how deeply positive and hopeful children can remain, how they blend reality and imagination as they dream of a home, a home with a great mango tree stretching toward the sky.

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According to the Missing Migrants Project 81’917 people worldwide have lost their lives in migration since 2014. These figures are based on documented cases, the actual number is likely substantially higher.