There are some stories so beyond the line of horror, that you almost believe by looking away, the past is erased and the terror never happened.
As a journalist, I’m well aware of this feeling, but also know the need to keep looking. Avoiding the reality afflicting those affected won’t change what just occurred.
But I did turn away upon initially seeing the news alert regarding the mass shooting at a daycare centre in Thailand on Thursday. I’d be far from alone in doing so. It’s like a reflex of the senses that automatically attempts to dismiss the distress of horror headlines: that just couldn’t be real, we think. And attempt to cast the thought aside, to go on with the day.
On waking today, Australians learned more about the full extent of the horror that unfolded in Northeast Thailand from news outlets internationally, albeit with far less prominence and longevity than such a story would have received if it had occurred in the United States — despite mass shootings that take young lives happening so frequently in the US, that we can almost feel immune to the details.
In Uthai Sawan, a town 500 kilometres from Bangkok, at least 36 people were murdered around Thursday lunchtime, 24 of them children, the majority aged between two and four. It happened during nap time, on a day when the monsoon rains were particularly heavy. The rains provided one small mercy — many children had stayed home.
The gunman was a former police officer who was recently fired after being arrested for drug possession. He shot teachers and workers from the early development centre during the rampage, four of them as they sat outside eating lunch. He then shot through a door to get inside. He used a knife to kill the majority of his young victims. (How do you type those words?). One of the teachers murdered was heavily pregnant, her husband spoke to television outlets at the scene crying, saying she was due next month. A witness reported another teacher died with a child in her arms.
Images and footage of the Child Development Center show what you’d expect from a pre school, with colourful letters and numbers hung across the walls. But instead of sleeping mats lining the floor for nap time, such mats and blankets were used to lay the bodies of the young.
Childcare is free and popular in Thailand, where there are nearly 20,000 early childhood development centres across the country for children aged three to five. This centre was located in one of Thailand’s poorest provinces, where businesses and homes are commonly caught between the extremes of drought and flood.
How does one bring themselves to further consider the details of what occurred at that centre, and what then followed the gunman’s trail of death home, where he killed his wife and own child, before turning the gun on himself?
How does one consider the terror of those wide-eyed little faces? And the horror of the parents learning about the situation unfolding, then being told the full extent of the senseless rampage?
Murdered toddlers. The most heinous of words that could ever be strung together. Little people, not yet children, who had gone to daycare as their parents likely worked or cared for others. Murdered women, who went to work to love, care, support and educate children. They had no chance.
What of those tiny little survivors? Witnessing an event of such war-like magnitude, so far beyond the most imaginable of terrors? What about those witnesses and first responders, who tried to stop the killing spree or were the first to arrive to care for the wounded and dying, and take stock of those already dead?
On learning about stories like this — when we decide we can’t look away — we can experience an irrational desire to return back in time. To a moment 24 hours prior, a point when the most unthinkable has not yet occurred. There is a before and after. As if monsters of this magnitude never existed before, and could never exist again. Perhaps we may even attempt to cast the victims aside, a horror that occurred over there, so far removed from our reality that we can try to believe it is not reality.
It is a reality for all those families affected, and a country shattered. The reality of the lost potential in those children. The despair at what the victims experienced. The loss of those older individuals with families, friends, aspirations and so much more love to give. It is reality for all of us to know that an individual can inflict this much suffering.
Thailand’s Prime Minister Prayuth Chan-ocha released a statement today saying he’ll travel to the province today to meet with the families of the victims. Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, like many other world leaders, has shared his grief. “It’s impossible to comprehend the heartbreak of this horrific news from Thailand,” he said. “All Australians send their love and condolences”.
It’s hard to form sentences in response to those murdered children. One can’t even think about the hopes and dreams that were stolen, as they were killed so young they never had the opportunity to actually form them. We can believe and hope that some of them were sleeping as the murders occurred.
On Women’s Agenda, I wanted to write something about this most horrific of days in Thailand, for all of us to stop and pause not just for those children and other victims caught randomly in this tragedy, but also those murdered teachers and childcare workers, the majority of whom were women. They went to work that day, like every other day. They went to care, support and educate. They never returned home.