SISU's main phrase is "Vulnerable to Valuable." How do you see that transition happen in a young person who has lived through recent "repression and fear" back home?
It is a profound shift. Many of our trainees come to us feeling invisible. Because of the ongoing conflict and economic collapse, they've seen their schools close and their families struggle. When they first walk through our doors at SISU, they often feel like they don't have a true meaning. Our goal is to show them that they can be a solution to their own future. By giving them skills, whether it's making a perfect espresso in Hospitality or managing a ledger in our Certificate in Business, they feel like they are regaining their sense of dignity. They stop being "vulnerable" and start seeing themselves as "valuable" employees who can actually contribute to their families and their country.
You mentioned the Certificate in Business (CIB). How intensive is the program?
It is quite intensive. It's a 200-hour commitment to learning English alone, alongside management, finance, and marketing. We also have a Training of Trainer (ToT) program that equips them to pass these skills on to others. It's about building a sustainable cycle of knowledge. But we also have very practical, hands-on courses like Agriculture 101, where they learn the basics of cultivating soil and growing vegetables. In a shrinking economy, being able to grow your own food is a vital form of self-reliance.
The SISU Kitchen, also called the Deaf Kitchen. Why was it important to create that space?
In times of crisis, the most marginalized are often the first to be forgotten. The Deaf Kitchen is an accessible training facility where trainees learn food preparation and hygiene in a way that respects their needs. It embodies our commitment to being inclusive and community-driven. Seeing a trainee who was silenced by both society and circumstance find their voice in a professional kitchen is exactly why we do this.
I connect a lot to the idea of "resilience mixed with humility." How do you see those traits in your students?
I see it every single day. You see it in the way they handle the Daily Meal Support. While we might provide the rice, the trainees bring their own curries to share. They don't really make a big deal out of it, they just do it because of that sense of collective responsibility. They carry their pain quietly but they use that quiet strength to show up for class every morning, even when things are difficult.
How does SISU prepare students for the reality of moving abroad?
We have to be honest with them. Because the economy has shrunk considerably, many feel they have no choice but to leave. We include awareness of human trafficking and exploitation in our curriculum because we don't want them to be taken advantage of. We want them to have the accountability and trust that makes them valuable abroad, but we also want them to have the knowledge to stay safe.
Another of your mottos is "Dare to Dream." What does that mean to you in the current context?
Our data shows that after our programs, many employees stay with the same company for months or even years, whether it's in a hotel, a hospital, or as a home helper. We've seen thousands of people positively impacted by these programs. "Dare to Dream" means that even when we are being pulled by conflict, we can still achieve a lot of great things.
What was the moment you decided to start SISU?
It was not one moment. It was a series of small ones. I was teaching English in a small classroom in Yangon, and one of my students stopped coming to class. It was a teenager I had been working with for about a year. I asked around, and eventually I learnt that he had gone to Malaysia. He had been promised a job. Within three months he was back, and he was not the same. He would not talk about what had happened. He would not go to school. He would not be in the classroom anymore. Around that same week, three other former students told me similar stories. I sat with one of them, and I said, “If you had known what you know now, what would you have wanted someone to teach you before you left?” He thought for a long time. Then he said, “How to read a contract. How to know if a person is telling me the truth. How to refuse without losing my job.” I sat down the next week and wrote the first SISU curriculum. It was four pages long. It was about contracts, and about truth.
How do you measure success?
We track four things. Whether the trainee finishes the program. Whether they are employed within three months. Whether they stay in that job for at least six months. Whether they are still in safe contact with us a year later. We do not measure salary, prestige, or whether they went abroad. We measure whether they have a stable footing and whether they are still reachable. Every quarter we publish these numbers on our website. Sometimes the numbers are bad. We still publish them.
What do the trainees teach you in return?
They teach me how to be a better listener. Before I started SISU, I thought teaching was mostly about clarity: saying the right thing in the right way. I have learned that it is mostly about silence. When a trainee comes to me with a problem, the most important thing I can do is to be quiet long enough that they hear themselves think. Sometimes the answer is a contact. Sometimes it is just being told someone has heard them. The trainees have taught me patience. I have a tendency to want to fix things. They have taught me that not everything needs to be fixed. Some things need to be sat with. My Burmese teachers used to say that not everything needs to be rushed. I did not understand it then.
What do you say to a young person who tells you they want to leave Myanmar?
I do not try to convince them to stay or leave. If you leave, leave with a plan. Do not leave because someone you do not know promised you something. Do not leave because your cousin's friend left and you assume it will be the same for you. If you leave, leave because you have a job, a name, a contact, and a way home. If you leave, leave without burning the bridge. Your mother is still here. Your grandmother is still here. The country will be here. Do not make it impossible to come back. If you leave, send something back. It does not have to be money. It can be a story. It can be a phone call home on a Tuesday.
About SISU
Founded in 2016, SISU (Step-in Step-up) is a Myanmar-based non-profit organisation dedicated to transforming vulnerable individuals into confident, skilled, and employable members of society. Through vocational education and holistic support, SISU equips young people with the practical skills, knowledge, and self-belief needed to build sustainable futures for themselves and their communities.
SISU offers training programs in hospitality, healthcare, office administration, agriculture, and digital literacy. Beyond technical skills, the organisation places strong emphasis on personal development, English language proficiency, financial literacy, and life skills. Operating from its vocational training centre in Yangon, SISU works closely with businesses and social impact partners to create pathways from education to meaningful employment.
Conclusion
Speaking with Zarni made it clear that SISU is far more than a vocational training centre. At its heart, it is an organisation built on restoring hope in a time when hope can often feel scarce. Its motto, Vulnerable to Valuable, is not simply a slogan but a philosophy that guides every aspect of its work: from teaching practical skills and English proficiency to creating inclusive spaces like the Deaf Kitchen, and preparing trainees for the realities of migration.
What stayed with me was the emphasis on dignity. In a country where conflict and economic collapse have disrupted countless lives, SISU focuses on what people are capable of becoming rather than what they have lost. The message of Dare to Dream matters in Myanmar today. By investing in education, inclusion, and human potential, the organisation shows that meaningful change often begins with small acts of hope.