Five years after an armed conflict devastated Marawi City, some of those who fled are starting to rebuild their lives. But for the families of missing people who live without knowing what happened to their loved ones, things may never be the same.

Marawi City in Mindanao became the stage for urban warfare between government forces and non-state armed groups in May 2017. The five-month-long armed clashes left citizens displaced, disrupted their livelihoods, and devastated the city centre — for over 230,000 people, life would never be the same again. Though over five years have passed, thousands of internally displaced people (IDP) are still living in temporary shelters while some have settled with relatives or moved to other areas. In the most affected area of the city, rubble is all that remains of what once were houses, markets, shops, schools, and mosques — a constant reminder of the heavy impact of war. The residents who have returned are living in a city that bears no resemblance to the one they left behind.

For hundreds of families, beyond the traces of destruction in the city, the disappearance of a loved one is a constant reminder of the conflict and how it has cut through their lives. Their distress is compounded by the uncertainty of what has happened to their missing relative, and they can see no end to the ordeal until they finally get clarity.

“My son Imran, who was about to turn 20 that year, was away at the padian (market) when violence broke out. When we heard bombs and saw people fleeing their homes, we immediately called him. But the fighting escalated quickly, and I had to rush my wife and other kids to safety. When I came back for Imran, civilians were no longer being allowed into the city,” recalls 52-year-old Karem. He takes a long pause as he remembers each detail and his voice is heavy with emotion when he speaks again. “That phone call was the last time I heard from Imran. Every day, I live with the guilt of leaving him behind. It’s hard to go on with life knowing that your son went missing and there was nothing you could do as his father,” he says.

Like Karem, families of missing people struggle to deal with the uncertainty of whether their loved one is dead or alive. They feel as though their lives are on hold and there is no scope for the grieving process.

The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) works to support families of missing people and upholds their right to know what happened to their missing loved ones as mandated by international humanitarian law (IHL). IHL affirms the state’s responsibility to account for those who go missing because of conflict. The missing and their families are both considered victims.

“The worst thing about losing your parents to ambiguity is not having closure. Just when you think you have reconciled yourself to their loss, you are struck by the thought that they may return some day and all over again you feel the surging emotion of losing them,” shares 20-year-old Hidaya, who lost track of her parents during the fighting.

When violence broke out, her parents stayed behind at home thinking that the clashes wouldn’t last long, but Hidaya, who sought safety with relatives, never heard from them again. “There is no formula for dealing with the ambiguity of a missing loved one. You just bear with the agony. But it’s difficult to cope and I feel lost,” she says.

In 2019, the ICRC conducted a needs assessment for families of missing people in Marawi and designed an accompaniment programme based on the findings. The programme is a multidisciplinary approach to address the psychological, psychosocial, economic, legal, and administrative needs of the families.

Based on the concept of mutual support, “accompaniers” are drawn from a select number of families of missing people from each community. They are trained by the ICRC’s Mental Health and Psychosocial Support (MHPSS) staff to lead peer-support groups of six to eight people which meet twice a month over a six-month period.

“There can be limited access to professional services in post-conflict situations. In such instances community-based methods of providing psychosocial support can be very helpful, especially since most of these families are not used to individual therapy and prefer relational interventions at the community level,” says Sittie Jamerah Mohammad of the ICRC’s MHPSS team who has been facilitating the sessions in three provinces.

“Families find a safe space to express themselves without fear of being judged in these sessions. Sharing their experiences with those who have walked in similar shoes helps to break their feeling of isolation and process what they are going through in a better way,” adds Sittie. Some families share that they have developed strong bonds in the support groups and continue to meet even after the sessions end.

Karem, Hidaya and most families of missing people who are supported by the ICRC through grants and microeconomic initiatives, have taken part in the first round of these peer-support sessions. In the second round, the sessions are also being held in other regions in Mindanao where families of missing people stay.

Renewed Hope

While he waits for news about his missing son, Karem has been engaged in making hollow blocks for construction so that he can provide for his family and educate his other children. “Imran’s dream was that his siblings will finish their education. I am working hard to fulfil that dream,” he says. The capital he received from the ICRC’s microeconomic initiative for families of missing people has given him a fresh start. The ICRC’s financial assistance enables families to start new businesses or expand existing ones so that they can rebuild their lives.

Hidaya, who is studying nursing, is also dedicated to fulfilling her parents’ desires despite the challenges. “They used to always encourage me to pursue education at all cost. The cash grant and tablet that I received from the ICRC is helping me to continue studying,” she says.

In post-conflict situations, most rehabilitation efforts focus on the tangible effects of wars. The condition of the families of missing people who deal with invisible wounds and are mentally scarred by their loved ones’ disappearance is often overlooked.

“They might appear like all of us as we go about our days, but they live with pain and grief in their hearts. They must be supported in their journey as they seek answers for what happened to their missing relatives and long for a sense of closure,” stressed Sittie of the ICRC MHPSS team.

Amer Hassan Sanggacala is a Communications Officer for the ICRC in Iligan, Philippines.

This article is part of the “Forgotten Conflicts” series by the International Committee of the Red Cross in partnership with the AIIA, highlighting the serious and often overlooked humanitarian consequences of armed conflicts and other situations of violence. It is published under a Creative Commons License and may be republished with attribution.