More than 34,440 Cambodians, including 11,355 children, are still living in evacuation camps in Preah Vihear and Siem Reap provinces as of this month, according to Cambodia's Ministry of Interior. Their lives have been upended since border fighting with Thailand erupted in July and December last year. Although a ceasefire was reached on December 27, tensions persist.
Many families say education is the hardest-hit sector. Sokna, 11, describes her daily chores: fetching water, washing dishes, and sweeping around the blue tarpaulin tents at a pagoda in northwestern Cambodia. Her mother, Puth Reen, says both her daughters have stopped attending school since moving to the camp. "I tried to tell them to go, but they won't," she says.
At the Wat Bak Kam camp in Preah Vihear province, mothers say primary school pupils can attend local classes, but secondary students must travel 15 km daily to the provincial capital. Rising fuel prices due to the US-Israel war in Iran add to their hardships.
Kinmai Phum, head of WorldVision's education program supporting the camps, says dropout and truancy rates have surged among students from border areas. "Local authorities fear many children may never return to school if displacement and economic hardship continue."
Some border areas, like the villages of Chouk Chey and Prey Chan in Banteay Meanchey province, have become flashpoints for nationalists angered by shipping containers and barbed-wire fences erected by Thai troops to block village access. Cambodia's army also prevents people like Sun Reth, 67, from returning to frontline homes, which remain heavily militarized zones.
Yuon Phally, mother of two, says when her children come home from school, they talk about rumors that Cambodia and Thailand are about to fight again. "Their mood isn't focused on school; they're more focused on these rumors." During December's clashes, she couldn't persuade them to attend because they were waiting for a call from their father on the front line. "I couldn't hold back my tears; it adds more pressure on my children."
Soeum Sokhem, 67, a deputy village chief living in a "dangerous" area along the border, regularly returns to check on his house. Recalling his life, he lists countless conflicts from the 1960s to today: the US war, the Khmer Rouge genocide, civil war, and sporadic border clashes with Thailand. "But who doesn't want peace?" he says. Now, every time he returns home, he hears gunfire and "I walk with fear."
Although the Cambodian government has built wooden stilt houses for evacuees and aid from organizations continues, life has not returned to normal. Hundreds of thousands fled as artillery and rockets from both sides exchanged fire, with Thailand holding air superiority. The ceasefire signed on December 27 remains fragile.
