For Rohingya refugee families living on the outskirts of Jammu, years of trying to build a quiet life in exile are being disrupted by eviction orders.
Many of the families settled near the Raika Forest after fleeing violence in Myanmar’s Rakhine state. Some have lived on rented land since 2012, building simple shelters from bamboo, wood and tarpaulin. Now they are being ordered to remove structures described by authorities as unauthorised, leaving many unsure where they will live next.
Muhammad Arif, who has rented the same piece of land since 2012, remembers arriving in Jammu after a difficult journey from Myanmar.
“We paid rent every month, even though our homes were just bamboo and tarpaulin,” he said. “We tried to live quietly, without troubling anyone.”
In September, Arif said his landlord was given only three days to clear the structures on the land. The families living there were left with little time to find alternatives.
“We were given no time, no options,” Arif said. “There was no government officer to tell us where to go, no help, nothing.”
Families have since begun dismantling their shelters themselves, attempting to recover building materials and personal belongings before demolition work takes place.
For many, the losses are significant despite the modest appearance of their homes. Mothers have gathered blankets and household items while fathers have pulled apart bamboo walls and wooden frames. Children have watched as the only homes they have known are dismantled.
The Rohingya have faced decades of persecution in Myanmar. A 1982 citizenship law left the community effectively stateless, while years of violence and discrimination drove large numbers to seek refuge in neighbouring countries and elsewhere.
Many travelled by land or sea to Bangladesh, India and other countries. The United Nations Human Rights Council estimates that hundreds of Rohingya died last year while attempting dangerous sea journeys, with drowning, starvation and trafficking among the reported causes.
Government figures cited in the source material indicate that more than 7,600 Rohingya live in Jammu and Kashmir, with most based in the Jammu region. Official records put the number in the ten districts of Jammu Division at about 6,737.
For Saddam Hussain, the eviction came just days after the birth of his third child. His wife had given birth to a daughter four days before the notice arrived.
“We had barely brought our baby home,” he said. “Then the order came, we had to leave immediately.”
With little time to find somewhere else, Saddam and other residents began selling whatever they could.
He said his family had spent more than 20,000 rupees building their shelter, but received only 2,000 rupees when the materials were sold as scrap.
“We needed money just to survive,” he said. “It was like selling my memories, my life, for nothing.”
Others described a similar experience, with materials bought through years of saving being sold for a fraction of their original value.
Yasmin, 19, said residents knew they were unlikely to receive a fair price but felt they had no alternative.
“If we didn’t clear the land, they would destroy everything,” she said.
The families also face major difficulties in finding alternative accommodation. Many landlords require government-issued identification, while the Rohingya residents generally possess UNHCR identification cards.
Javid Ahmed, a father of four, said he had searched across Jammu for somewhere to rent but was repeatedly turned away.
“Nobody would rent to us,” he said. “They look at our cards and say, ‘This is not enough.’”
The situation leaves families caught between a lack of recognised documentation and the need for a permanent address. Without suitable documents, renting can be difficult, while without a stable address, obtaining further documentation can also be challenging.
Javid’s wife said the prospect of living by the roadside was particularly frightening.
“At least here, we had neighbours who understood us,” she said. “On the street, we are invisible. We are nothing.”
For younger Rohingya residents, the upheaval also means losing schools, friendships and familiar surroundings.
Yasmin was only a baby when her family arrived in Jammu. She said she has grown up there and has little connection to any other home.
“All my friends, my school, my life, everything is here,” she said. “Now we are told to leave, but where do we go? I don’t even know where my country is. I don’t belong anywhere.”
Noor Habib, who said he lost his parents during a military crackdown in Myanmar, described the eviction as a painful reminder of the reasons his family fled.
“We came here to escape the killing,” he said. “I thought, at least here, we could sleep without fear. But now, even that is gone.”
He keeps his refugee identification card among his most important possessions, but said it has provided little protection against the current housing crisis.
“It was supposed to protect us,” he said. “But this card means nothing here. It cannot buy us a home; it cannot keep us safe.”
The latest action follows an earlier clearance of a large Rohingya settlement in Karyani Talab. Authorities reportedly carried out the demolition after a federal committee examined demographic changes and alleged illegal immigration.
Officials have said the eviction drives concern encroachment on forest land rather than any particular community.
A forest department official involved in one demolition said residents had been warned previously and maintained that the rules applied to everyone.
“The action is against illegal structures, not against people,” the official said.
The official also said women and children had been given time to collect their belongings and that only structures identified as encroachments were removed.
Residents, however, have disputed how much notice they received. Stephen, whose hut was also demolished, said police arrived at his home without giving the family enough time to prepare.
“We had to grab whatever we could and run,” he said. “My children are terrified. We have nowhere left.”
The eviction notices reportedly focus on removing unauthorised structures but do not provide a government relocation or resettlement plan. One official suggested that affected families should seek rented accommodation or obtain land through legal means.
For residents who have limited income and uncertain legal status, finding such alternatives is far from straightforward.
Abdul Khaliq, a community elder, said many families had never intended to remain permanently displaced.
“We didn’t choose to come here,” he said. “We came because we had to. We carry identity cards from the United Nations, but that means nothing here. We are tolerated, not accepted.”
As the settlement is dismantled, families have moved their remaining possessions towards the roadside. Broken bamboo, tarpaulin and other fragments are left behind where homes once stood.
For children, the sudden loss of their surroundings has been difficult to understand. For older residents, it has brought back memories of earlier displacement and uncertainty.
“We are tired of always running,” Yasmin said. “We want a place to belong, a place where we can stop being afraid.”
Based on reporting by UCA News.
