From Displacement to Debt: A Rohingya Mother Sells Her Children’s Food to Survive
Story and photos by Ayub Khan
In August 2024, Noor Fatema fled Myanmar after witnessing the killing of her husband, Azhar Miah, in what she says was an Arakan Army drone strike in Maung Ni village, Maungdaw, Rakhine State. She crossed into Bangladesh with her three children, hoping that the refugee camps would at least provide them with safety and the basic conditions to survive.
More than two years later, 26-year-old Fatema is still struggling to secure those basics. She says she has received food assistance and cooking fuel, but was unable to obtain the shelter support she needed when she first arrived. She rented a small shelter instead, and when she could no longer afford the costs, she borrowed money. Today, she is selling portions of her family's food assistance to repay the debt.
Fatema says she witnessed the death of her husband, a 45-year-old baker, when a drone strike hit their village in August 2024.
“I saw the drone strike hit my husband’s body, and I saw him die instantly.”
His death left Fatema alone with three young children as fighting and insecurity intensified around their village. With no safe future in sight, she crossed the border into Bangladesh that same month, joining thousands of other Rohingya who had fled renewed violence in Rakhine State. She arrived with little more than her children. She had lost her husband, her home and the life she had known. Bangladesh was supposed to offer refuge. Instead, keeping her family sheltered and fed has become a struggle in its own right.
When Fatema arrived in Bangladesh, she says she depended on neighbours and other refugees to find somewhere for her family to stay. She eventually rented a small shelter, paying a monthly fee that became increasingly difficult to meet because she had no regular income.
She says she received food assistance and cooking fuel, but not the shelter assistance she needed as a newly arrived family. Eventually, she borrowed money to keep a roof over her children's heads. As the debt grew, she says she surrendered her Joint Assistance Card and gave up part of the food assistance available to her family in order to meet her obligations. The arrangement left her with a painful choice: use the food intended for her children to repay the debt, or risk losing their shelter.
Then, in July 2026, heavy rains damaged the family's shelter. Fatema says she approached the camp shelter team for assistance with repairs but did not receive the support she needed. With her children still needing somewhere to sleep, she borrowed more money from a local moneylender, this time with interest. The debt has since become harder to escape.
Fatema says that when she cannot make payments, the moneylender threatens and physically abuses her. Her account is now one of a cycle that has become increasingly difficult to break: borrowing to maintain shelter, using food assistance to repay the debt, and then borrowing again when the food and money run out.
The contradiction is stark. The assistance intended to prevent her children from going hungry is being converted into debt repayments. The shelter intended to provide protection has become the reason she needs to borrow. And the debt itself has reportedly exposed her to further threats and violence.
Fatema is raising three children without their father while carrying the consequences of a conflict she did not create and a displacement she did not choose. Her experience also raises a simple question: what does refuge mean when a family that has escaped violence cannot secure a safe place to live without going into debt?
Fatema's situation points to a gap that can easily disappear behind the larger statistics of displacement. For newly arrived Rohingya families, food and cooking fuel are essential. But a family arriving after fleeing violence may also need shelter, household materials, protection and other forms of immediate support. When one of those needs is left unmet, the consequences can spread quickly.
For Fatema, the lack of adequate shelter support did not simply mean living in a damaged or rented structure. It contributed to a chain of borrowing, food insecurity and, she says, physical abuse.
Her case deserves urgent attention. Her shelter needs to be assessed and repaired, her immediate food insecurity addressed, and her reported abuse referred through appropriate protection channels. Her outstanding debt also needs to be considered as part of the situation rather than treated as a separate financial problem.
Her experience also raises a broader question for those responsible for refugee assistance: how many newly arrived families are falling through similar gaps because the support they receive does not match the realities of their lives?
Fatema is not asking for pity. She wants her children to have enough food, a safe place to sleep and the opportunity to continue their education. After losing her husband and fleeing across a border, she has spent the past two years trying to keep her family together. She should not have to sell their food to pay for the shelter that protects them.
For now, practical financial assistance could make an immediate difference: helping the family secure food, address the shelter damage and reduce the pressure of the debt that has trapped them.
Her story is not only about one family. It shows how quickly a gap in support can become a cycle of debt, hunger and vulnerability. Noor Fatema crossed the border into Bangladesh to protect her children. She now needs support to give them something more than survival.
How you can help
People who would like to support Noor Fatema and her three children can contact Ayub Khan Dkl, who can provide information on how assistance can reach the family. Even modest support could help Fatema reduce the immediate pressure of debt, restore food security and repair her family's damaged shelter.
Editor’s note: Noor Fatema has agreed to share her story and photographs publicly in the hope that doing so will help her receive practical support for herself and her three children. She understands that the publication describes her circumstances, including her financial difficulties and reported experiences of abuse, and has given her consent for the story to be published.
