The metal container that doubles as Jose Monteiro’s home is cramped and roasting. Several young men lay on grassy mats inside, trying to escape the oppressive heat. No escape is in sight, not immediately at least – neither from the sweltering sun nor from this sprawling camp, which sits across the street from the entrance to the main United Nations compound in Dili. This sun-scorched patch of earth served as a UN car park, until thousands of “internally displaced people” – or IDPs as they’re called – took it over 18 months ago.

They were running for their lives, fleeing bitter ethnic conflict that divides Easterners from Westerners. The violence resulted in more than 5,000 houses damaged or destroyed. Monteiro, 24, is among an estimated 30,000 IDPs living in Dili-based camps. Another 70,000 are displaced elsewhere around the country.

Monteiro is a student, but completing assignments is nearly impossible amid the noisy chaos of the camp. “My house was burned. All my books were destroyed”, he said. Like thousands of others, Monteiro is waiting for Timor Leste’s new government to resolve the IDP crisis. They want financial compensation for their destroyed houses, materials and land to rebuild, or both. So far, only two of the estimated 5,360 pillaged houses have been rebuilt. Solutions to the IDP crisis are complicated. The government still has unresolved land and property ownership questions to sort out. Security, or lack of it, is another major problem. Many IDPs are afraid to return to the communities they left for fear of being attacked again. They lack confidence in the government’s ability to protect them.

While they wait for the government to resolve their housing crisis, Timor’s internally displaced people rely heavily on non-governmental organisations (NGOs) like Concern to help them meet their daily and longer-term needs.

“Right now I don’t feel the government is doing much for us. Only NGOs like Concern are helping,” said Jose Da Costa Ruis, who manages a camp of thousands of displaced people that surrounds and spills into Dili National Hospital. “The role of NGOs is very important here and will continue to be until the IDPs move back into their own homes,” Da Costa said.

Timorese who fled last year’s turbulence saw the hospital and the UN compound as one of the few havens in the country, he said. But conditions have deteriorated over the last few months for most of the IDPs. The country’s food insecurity has been exacerbated by erratic rains, seed shortages, locust infestations, crop failure, and post-harvest food spoilage. This has resulted in chronic malnutrition; according to UN figures more than 40% of Timorese children underweight and nearly half considered too short or stunted. Life in the camps is getting worse in other ways. Basic shelter items are deteriorating and security for women and children is becoming more of a problem as powerful, politically motivated cliques exert their influence through fear and intimidation tactics. Instability and civil unrest remain a constant feature of daily life.

Concern is one of several aid organisations helping to improve the lives of IDPs while they wait for a permanent solution. Concern works to strengthen the management of the camps by acting as a liaison between the government, the IDPs and non-governmental groups providing services. Concern staff members also identify gaps in humanitarian aid, advocate on behalf of the IDPs, provide them with information about their rights, promote dialogue with the government and work with camp managers to find alternative housing and permanent solutions for the residents. Tito de Aquino coordinates Concern’s efforts in three IDP camps in Dili. He knows first-hand the anguish of life as an IDP: he was burned out of his home last year.

A lasting solution to the IDP crisis remains elusive. Displaced families will not return home until they feel safe and have the means to rebuild. Neither of those conditions exists yet and the strategy for creating them remains under development. Monteiro, the university student, does not plan to return to the Dili neighbourhood where he once lived. He doesn’t know where he will live. But one thing is certain for him, as it is for most other IDPs.

“I don’t want to go somewhere where they don’t like us. I don’t want to feel threatened,” he said.