The Rohingya Camps Through Bangladeshi Eyes: A Bangladeshi Communications Professional’s Experience

Nusrat Zabin Biva

First Glimpse of the Camps

The vehicle moved slowly inside the camp as I looked around with curiosity. Warehouses, food distribution centers, community engagement centers, women and girls’ safe spaces, learning centers, health centers, legal aid centers, and many more. Each had signboards and banners displaying the names and logos of the United Nations agencies and various international, national, and local NGOs. There was no Bangla, only English and the unfamiliar Burmese language.

This was my first experience of visiting the Rohingya camps.

The camps we often see through drone shots in newspapers or television news look very different from the reality on the ground. Driving along the brick-paved roads inside reveals a completely different picture. It is a separate world surrounded by barbed wire, where a wide-scale humanitarian operation continues day and night. Everyone seems busy with their own responsibilities.

Daily Life and Cultural Details

One thing that stood out in the markets was the large number of betel leaf shops. There was constant buying and selling of betel leaf. Curious, I asked a colleague, “Do Rohingya people chew a lot of betel leaf?”

With a smile, she replied, “It seems they chew it all day.”

Later, I realized she was not exaggerating. From children as young as seven or eight to elderly people, almost everyone had red-stained teeth and tongue. Betel chewing is clearly their favourite habit.

Some houses belonging to Bangladeshis also fall within the barbed wire area of the camps. Yet it is not difficult to distinguish between Bangladeshis and Rohingya. The men dress much like we do, wearing lungis with shirts or T-shirts. The difference is that they usually tuck their shirts in. Women, however, follow or are compelled to follow very strict purdah. Most wear black burqas, hijabs, and niqabs that cover their entire bodies and faces. Occasionally, I noticed women walking along the roads carrying beautifully decorated umbrellas brought from Myanmar, often adorned with small shimmering ornaments.

Women Beyond the Veil

Because of my work, I often had the chance to speak privately with many women in spaces where male entry was restricted. In those moments, I saw them without their niqabs or burqas, wearing clothing in which they feel comfortable. Some wore outfits similar to the Rakhine women of Cox’s Bazar, tops paired with skirts or thami-like garments. Like many women from Bangladesh’s hill regions, they also apply thanaka on their faces to protect their skin from the sun.

Another striking feature of Rohingya women is their love of putting make-up on face. They use glittering eyeshadow, eyeliner, pink blush, and lipstick. Their hands are often filled with intricate henna designs. The hardships of life could not fade the color of henna on their hands. During any celebration or event in the camps, there is almost always an arrangement for women to apply henna.

Children Growing Up Behind Barbed Wire

On my very first day in the camp as a humanitarian worker for an international development organization, one thing shook me deeply and left me feeling helpless. It was the sight of children living behind barbed wire. From infants in their mothers’ or elder siblings arms to teenagers, they are everywhere. It is difficult to estimate their number, but it is certainly enormous.

These children are growing up in another country’s refuge. Many have never seen their own homeland, and those who did are too young to remember it. They have never stood before the waving flag of their country to sing a national anthem. They have never gone on school picnics with friends. During vacation, they have never traveled to visit relatives in distant towns wearing new clothes. They do not know, whether the brother or sister who was lost in the crowd while leaving the country will ever be seen again.

When asked to draw pictures of their country, many of these children draw burning houses. They draw soldiers firing bullets as families try to cross Naf river. These are stories they heard from elders in their families. For them, the idea of a country does not evoke images of beauty or belonging. It is associated with violence and death.

Moments of Joy, Then Silence

Since I worked in communications, I always carried a camera. Whenever I walked through the camp with it, a small crowd of children would gather behind me. They watched with fascination as photos and videos were taken. Many would ask excitedly, “Selfie, selfie?”

Because of serious protection risks, photographs of children cannot be taken or used without parental consent. Yet standing before those refugee children, whose lives hold so few moments of joy, I often found it impossible to refuse their innocent requests by citing policy or work ethics.

They would happily pose in different ways, and I would click the camera. When they saw their photos, they burst into laughter as if nothing in the world could be more delightful. Even if it lasted only a few moments, being able to give them that brief happiness filled me with emotions I cannot fully describe. It was both joy and pain.

Still, professional ethics left no choice. Once shown, the pictures would disappear with the press of the delete button, just as their natural childhood has disappeared.

An Education Interrupted

Due to funding shortages, even the limited learning opportunities that once existed in the camps have now significantly declined. An entire generation is growing up without formal education. Many spend their days idle. Some drift toward dangerous paths, becoming involved in drugs or criminal activities.

Various organizations try to keep these adolescents and young people engaged in activities such as reading books, drawing pictures, cleaning the camp, planting trees, or helping elderly residents move around. Drama groups perform awareness plays about human trafficking, drugs, child marriage, harassment, and domestic violence. These activities provide some engagement and entertainment for the community.

Yet an urgent question remains. If so many children and young people grow up without education, what kind of future awaits them?

Women Finding Strength and Voice

Women’s empowerment is a central focus for almost every humanitarian organization working in the camps. Rohingya women receive training in tailoring, handicrafts, homestead gardening, cooking, and beauty parlour services. Literacy & Numeracy programs are also offered. Many projects provide opportunities for day or monthly contract work. Women also participate as laborers in building roads and other infrastructure.

With the income they earn, women support their families by buying food, paying for medical care, and covering the costs of clothing and education for their children. For many of them, this is the first time in their lives they have had the opportunity to earn independently.

Yet documenting these achievements sometimes reveals another challenge. Many women hesitate to allow their photographs to be used publicly. If male family members see their pictures on social media or banners, they fear it may create problems, even if their bodies and faces are fully covered except the eyes.

Gender Struggles and Social Change

Whether inside the camps or outside, gender-based violence remains a difficult reality. In many families at Rohingya camp, women’s mobility and decision-making power remain limited. Patriarchal norms remain strong, and polygamy often places women in even more vulnerable situations.

To address this, humanitarian organizations conduct regular awareness programs involving men, women, camp leaders, and religious figures. Adolescent girls receive self-defense training such as martial arts so they can protect themselves in difficult situations.

Support systems are also available for survivors of violence, including medical care, counseling, safe shelters, and legal assistance. Special programs that engage men in discussions about respect, equality, and shared responsibilities are also helping create gradual change.

Today many women are more confident and empowered than before. Some are working in roles once considered for men only, such as firefighters, rescue workers, or construction workers. Families are increasingly supporting girls’ education rather than early marriage.

Inclusion and Changing Attitudes

Another positive development is the inclusion of transgender individuals in certain projects and community programs. Awareness initiatives are working to ensure that transgender members of the Rohingya community are not subjected to discrimination or violence.

Although acceptance remains gradual, there are signs that attitudes are slowly shifting and that marginalized individuals are beginning to find a place within the wider community.

Struggles for Water, Sanitation, and Shelter

During documentation work for a WASH project, I witnessed another aspect of everyday life in the camps. Water is collected from designated tap stands at specific times.

Before reaching one such tap stand on a hill, I noticed a long line of water containers placed along the roadside. Each stand had four or five taps, and people waited patiently for their turn. After filling the containers, they carried the heavy loads up the hillside to their shelters.

Usually shelters do not have individual toilets or bathrooms. Instead, several families share a single facility, often without proper lighting. At night, elderly people, pregnant women, and patients face serious difficulties in using these facilities.

When even basic needs like water and sanitation require such daily struggle, the harshness of refugee life becomes painfully clear.

The Hardship of Monsoon

The monsoon season brings even greater suffering. During heavy rain and flash floods, shelters located on lower slopes often become flooded. Families sometimes have to leave their homes and take refuge with relatives on higher ground or in centers run by humanitarian organizations.

There is also constant fear of landslides destroying shelters. Volunteers work day and night to help move residents to safer places when warnings appear.

When the water recedes, families return to cramped shelters with little ventilation, heavy odors, and intense heat. The narrow pathways between shelters often allow only one person to pass at a time. Sometimes people must walk along the edges of open drainage channels. If someone becomes seriously ill, they are carried by others to the nearest health center.

Small Spaces of Relief

Because of the suffocating conditions inside shelters, many residents spend their daytime hours in community engagement centers. These places provide open spaces, fans, improved sanitation facilities, and opportunities to sit, talk, play games, or read books.

Various programs and activities organized by humanitarian agencies also take place there, helping residents pass the long days with some sense of community.

A Future Tied to Return

Many years have now passed since Rohingya people sought refuge in this country. Funding shortages are increasing concerns about the sustainability of humanitarian assistance. Aid organizations are gradually shifting their programs toward livelihood activities so that Rohingya families can earn income and reduce dependence on aid.

Yet the reality remains unchanged. Without a safe and dignified return to Myanmar, this crisis cannot have a sustainable solution.

A Dream of Home

For elderly Rohingya who once lived peaceful lives in their villages, memories of their homeland remain vivid. They remember their ancestral lands, their homes, and the dignity of living freely in their own country.

Today they live with uncertainty, far from the places where their lives once unfolded.

Their final wish is simple. They hope to breathe their last breath in Myanmar and to be buried in their own land. They dream that the next generation will not grow up in exile but will once again live safely and with dignity in their homeland.

This hope belongs not only to them but to all of us. A world where no community is denied its rights because of religion, ethnicity, or identity. A world where children will never again imagine their homeland through images of fire, blood, and despair.

The original Bangla article was translated into English with the assistance of artificial intelligence.