World’s unfinished promise by Mohamed Riyas

 I HAVE visited the Rohingya refugee camps in Cox’s Bazar many times over the years. Every visit leaves me with the same question: what will become of this generation if the world continues to see them only as recipients of humanitarian aid?

Discussions about the Rohingya crisis are often reduced to numbers — 1.2 million refugees, funding appeals, food rations and shelter. Those figures are important, but they cannot capture the human reality unfolding inside the camps.

I meet children who have spent their entire lives in exile. I meet adolescents who dream of becoming teachers, engineers, doctors or athletes but have never had the chance to pursue those ambitions. I speak with mothers who worry less about the next meal than whether their daughters will have any future at all. Young men tell me they want to learn, work and support their families but remain trapped in years of uncertainty. Community leaders fear an entire generation is growing older without moving forward.

What strikes me most is not a lack of resilience or determination. The Rohingya possess both in abundance. What they lack is opportunity. Nearly a decade after the mass displacement from Myanmar, humanitarian assistance continues to save lives, and it must continue. Bangladesh deserves immense recognition for hosting one of the world’s largest refugee populations despite facing its own economic pressures and climate vulnerabilities. 

Yet, after nine years, survival alone is no longer enough.

The greatest danger today is not only prolonged displacement but the steady erosion of human capital. Most of the Rohingya population consists of children, young people and women — the very groups that will shape the future of any society. Instead of acquiring knowledge, skills and confidence during their formative years, many are growing up with severely limited opportunities for education, skills development and leadership.

Every year spent without meaningful learning or protection is not simply another year in exile. It is another year in which human potential is diminished. This should concern far more than humanitarian organisations. History has repeatedly shown that when large populations of young people are denied opportunities, the consequences rarely remain confined to refugee settlements. Lost opportunities today can become the instability of tomorrow. Frustration increases vulnerability to trafficking, organised crime, exploitation and dangerous migration. Women and girls face greater protection risks when education and community support systems weaken. Families who lose hope often undertake desperate journeys in search of a future elsewhere.

These are not hypothetical scenarios. They are realities humanitarian workers witness every day.

Yet the international conversation continues to revolve largely around the financial cost of supporting refugees.

That is the wrong question. The more important question is this: what will it cost Bangladesh, the region and the wider world if 1.2 million people are denied the knowledge, skills and confidence they will need to rebuild their lives when conditions finally allow them to return home?

Human capital is not a luxury to invest in after a crisis has ended. It is the foundation of recovery, peace and long-term stability.

Whenever I speak with Rohingya families, they tell me they want to return to Myanmar when that return is safe, voluntary and dignified. They do not want their children to remain dependent on humanitarian assistance indefinitely. They want them to learn, contribute and one day help rebuild their communities. If that future is ever to become possible, investment cannot wait until repatriation becomes a reality.

Protecting education, expanding opportunities for adolescents and young people, strengthening mental health and psychosocial support, empowering women and girls, and helping communities build resilience are not optional humanitarian programmes. They are investments in future stability.

At the same time, humanitarian assistance cannot substitute for political action. Regional and global leaders must renew efforts to create the conditions for the safe, voluntary and dignified return of the Rohingya to Myanmar, while ensuring Bangladesh is not left to shoulder this responsibility alone. 

Every visit to the camps reminds me that behind every statistic is a child eager to learn, a young person determined to contribute, a mother striving to protect her family’s future and a father struggling to keep hope alive despite years of uncertainty.

The world still has a choice. It can continue managing the crisis one funding cycle at a time, or it can recognise the Rohingya for what they truly represent: one of the world’s greatest reservoirs of untapped human potential. History will not judge us simply by whether we kept this generation alive. It will judge us by whether we gave them a future worth living for.

Mohamed Riyas is an acting country director of International Rescue Committee, Bangladesh.