Burma's disappearing teak forests

I live with my family in Hsipaw, home of the heart of the Shan State, the largest in Burma; it borders Thailand, Laos and China. We have an uncomplicated existence: we grow our own food, have sporadic electricity, and our water comes from the river.

The river runs by the back of my house. In days gone by it was a source of wealth: the clean water flowed past, supplying the local population, sometimes carrying flecks of gold. Many people would spend their days panning, collecting small particles of gold until enough was gathered to trade for other goods. It was a tough life at times, but we were always sustained by the land.

The river has long since given up its mineral wealth, but it's still an important meeting place. Alongside the waters, in a quiet spot behind an ancient bodhi tree, sits an old prayer house. It's made entirely from teak – it's a beautiful structure.

Teak is our traditional building material; it's a locally sourced timber, strong and long-lasting. Of all the world's teak, 70% comes from Burma. But today, for the average man wanting to repair his house, teak is surprisingly difficult to find and harder still to afford.

Prepared teak lasts for three generations, but in the case of this prayer house that interval has passed; the beams have reached the end of their natural life. You can tell by listening. Teak has a distinctive acoustic nature, but once the life has drained from it the sound becomes flat and dull.

Hsipaw, along with areas of Burma like Mawkmai and Namlan, was once known for its teak forests. Sadly this is no longer the case. It takes 100 years for teak to mature into timber, and many of the mature forests are no more.

Burma still has teak, but in all but the most inaccessible regions much has been sold. Logging has provided valuable funds for the military forces, serving to support their regime while at the same time exploiting the foundations of the land.

Harvested sensibly there would be ample to share, but this is not happening. Deforestation and all its associated ills are beginning to have their effect on the land; nutrient depletion and subsidence are phenomena that we are not used to encountering on such a scale.

There are international embargos against the sale of Burmese teak, but once it crosses the borders it is reclassified as non-Burmese. The sanctions do little, and although smuggling a tree sounds no easy feat, our neighbouring countries do little to enforce the embargos. There are rivers across the border to Thailand and China, and one boat can carry 34 tonnes.

Despite this, Burma is not an impoverished nation. It's possible for its people to be easily sustained by the natural resources of the land. As well as teak in the north, there is oil in the south; jade, sapphires and 90% of the world's rubies also come from Burma.

So we are blessed with the same curse that befalls many developing nations – mineral wealth that creates an ulterior motive for power. Resources in the soil of Burma have provided a financial backbone to the SPDC [State Peace and Development Council, the body of 12 military generals that rules the country]. Surrounding nations turn a blind eye for the sake of regional stability and financial gain. Until the political will exists to address these issues, the land that has provided us for centuries may not be able to support us for much longer.

• U Tin Naing, whose name has been changed, was talking to Pete Browne