Families endure grief’s ‘open wound’ a year after nursery massacre

Families endure grief's 'open wound' a year after nursery massacre
Families endure grief's 'open wound' a year after nursery massacre
Nannaphat” Stamp” Songsermin, their three-year-old nephew, was the victim of a large death at the Uthai Sawan nursery on October 6, 2022. Kham Pornnikhom, left, and Banyen Srichanil are holding an image of him.

As her grandmother describes the pain still plaguing the four-year-old, NA KLANG, Nong Bua Lamphu – Clutching a well-worn slip named” Little Bear ,” Paweenuch Supolwong fiddles with Buddhist amulets hanging heavy on her chest.

Paweenuch, also known as Ammy, was one of only two kids to live a year ago slaughter that decimated the small rural community of Uthai Sawan and killed 36 people.

Then, to comfort her home, she is watched over CCTV when she performs both at home and in the nursery.

Yupin Srithong, Paweenuch’s mother, told AFP that she did not want to send her back to school and that” I’m still startled.”

” I don’t want to let her leave my sight ,” she said.

On October 6, 2022, during the naptime for the kids, a former police officer named Panya Khamrab forced his way into the hospital.

He killed 12 individuals and 24 children, all but one of whom was five years old or younger, with a knife and gun before committing suicide to put an end to the deadliest massacre in the kingdom’s background.

Ammy unexpectedly survived while sleeping under a blanket, but she is still troubled by the strike.

She is scared of quiet lashes, Yupin said.

She’ll say,” There’s shooting again ,” and then request a hug from me.

Uthai Sawan, which roughly translates to” heaven ,” is located in Nong Bua Lam Phu province, one of Thailand’s poorest areas, about 500 kilometers north of Bangkok.

Ammy’s parents, like many other families in the area, have relocated to Bangkok for better-paying employment, leaving her parents to take care of her.

A beautiful white camera stands out sharply on the ancient wooden ceiling at Yupin’s house. After the assault, her family installed it so she could keep an eye on things from a distance.

– Pharmaceutical conflict

Products and slides are scattered across the cropped grass outside the single-story daycare with peach-colored walls, but the doors are taped shut.

Although ground has been staked out for a new nursery only 250 meters( 820 feet ) away, it is unclear what will happen to the building.

Local representative Danaichok Boonsom told AFP that a permanent remembrance was” in conversation.”

Ammy and her friends are currently playing in a makeshift hospital that is hidden from view by an enormous TV screen that displays images from cameras that monitor every entry to the substance.

Nanticha Punchom, the director of the Uthai Sawan Child Development Centre, who was present at the hospital when the invasion occurred, said,” They feel secure and at peacefulness.”

She told AFP,” I have to remind myself that it’s already around and try not to think about it any more.”

” The CCTV cameras give me a sense of security.”

Although Panya’s murderous intent has never been proven, the situation brought to mind a number of Thailand-dwelling spirits, including drugs, copious amounts of weapons, and wealth disparities.

Panya was fired from the law for substance abuse and was known for using ice frequently, a highly addictive stimulant that is rife throughout Southeast Asia.

Srettha Thavisin, the Vietnamese prime minister, has vowed to put an end to ice misuse and is scheduled to visit the town in November. However, with road prices at record highs in 2022, he faces a difficult task.

” Available scar”-

Following the attack, the city received an influx of financial aid, much of it going to grieving families, and emotional support as people worked to rebuild their lives.

Some of the payment was used to restore Banyen Scrichanil’s house, whose three-year-old grandson Nannaphat was also among the deceased.

Their house’s wooden walls, scuffed carpets, and kid-friendly toys are all gone. In contrast to the newly painted walls and white stones, Banyen’s cries reverberate.

” I long for him every time. I have dreams about him every moment, the 58-year-old said.

” I constantly see his mouth. As her father Kham Pornnikhom passed her cells, Banyen remarked,” To think or talk about him makes me cry.”

Behind them, the unoccupied area is dominated by a dark wood cabinet filled with toys and framed pictures of Nannaphat, also known as Stamp.

She remarked,” It feels like there’s an empty wound.”

With pain permeating the entire community, almost everyone in the town is related to one of the grieving families.

” I miss you ,” she said.

Kham, Stamp’s great-grandfather, claimed that although some families wanted to put the slaughter behind them, they still talk about him every day.

He advised against bringing up the incident because if you do, people will say it hurts and it’s best never to.

The couple’s neighbors had urged them to walk on.

While looking through pictures and videos of her grandson, Banyen remarked,” But they’re not the one who lost people so they can speak like that.”

The videos’ sound temporarily fills the vacant house.

Sound sound! He circles the house on a smaller bike while shouting.

On Banyen’s telephone, scenes from everyday activities like him brushing his teeth, slapping his plain chest after a bath, or presenting the camera with an untidy garden find are repeatedly replayed.

” Where are you at this very moment?” As solitude descended back into the space, Banyen enquired.

” I miss you, Stamp ,” she said.