“Safety, Smiles, and Security: APBN-16 on Duty for Rohingya Families”

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(Teknaf, Bangladesh) The Armed Police Battalion (APBN-16) has stepped up operations in the Nayapara refugee camp, bringing a renewed sense of safety to thousands of Rohingya families who have endured years of insecurity and hardship.

For many residents, the increased presence of APBN officers has meant more than just law enforcement, it has offered a fragile but welcome hope for peace in a community long plagued by violence, extortion, and fear.

Refugees say that while they continue to face challenges of displacement, limited resources, and uncertainty about their future, the reassurance of security has eased one of their deepest concerns:

the safety of their families. Community members expressed gratitude for the work being carried out, noting that mothers feel safer allowing their children to walk within the camp, and families are more confident gathering for prayer and community activities.

Several residents emphasized that a secure environment is essential not only for protection but also for restoring dignity to a population already traumatized by conflict and forced displacement.

“Peace in the camp means we can finally sleep at night without fear,” one refugee explained. “We have lost our homeland, but at least here we hope to live without constant threats.”

Humanitarian workers have also stressed that stability in the camps is critical for the success of aid distribution, education programs, and health services.

When violence disrupts daily life, vulnerable groups, particularly women, children, and the elderly, are the first to suffer.As APBN-16 continues its operations, residents say they hope this commitment to security will endure, allowing innocent families to live in peace while international efforts toward a long-term solution for the Rohingya people continue.

Aa’r Police” Finding Hope in the Heart of Teknaf Camp.

By APBN police Battalion 16 ASP HASAN HAFIZUR RAHMAN PPM, Teknaf, Camp Commander; Rain had fallen all morning, leaving the Nayapara Rohingya Camp heavy with the scent of wet earth. The sky hung low, a dull gray canvas stretched over bamboo fences and sagging tarpaulin roofs. The alleys wound narrowly through the settlement, like veins across a body bruised by time and hardship.

I know these paths well. I walk them almost every day as the Camp Commander. Yet that afternoon felt different. The silence was deeper, the shadows seemed to linger, and I felt as though every step was being quietly observed by lives hidden behind thin walls.

Then, suddenly, came laughter. Clear, high-pitched, and startlingly bright. It spilled into the alley like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

Children appeared, dozens of them- barefoot, their tiny feet caked in mud, their clothes worn and mismatched. But their faces glowed with a joy that felt almost defiant. Spotting me, they raised their voices in unison:

“Aa’r Police!”

In their Rohingya tongue, it means: Our Police.

I stopped, struck not by fear but by the weight of those words. They did not see my rank or my uniform; they saw a protector. In a place where trust is fragile and danger never far, they had chosen to call me theirs.

I raised my selfie stick, and the alley transformed. Laughter erupted. Tiny hands flashed peace signs, eager faces crowded the frame, and shy smiles gave way to bright grins. Their joy was infectious; even the rain-soaked air seemed lighter.

The photograph captured more than their faces- it captured resilience. Proof that even here, in a camp defined by displacement and uncertainty, laughter can bloom like wildflowers through cracks in the pavement.

That simple phrase-Our Police"has stayed with me. It is more than a greeting; it is a vow, a title far greater than anything stitched onto my uniform. It reminds me why I am here, why these muddy alleys and fragile homes matter.

As I walked back, the camp’s labyrinth of bamboo fences seemed less bleak. Their laughter followed me like a melody, soft but unshakable.

“Yes,” I whispered to myself. “I am your Aa’r Police. I am here for your safety, your laughter, and your fragile hope.”That rainy afternoon was not just a memory. It was a lesson etched into my heart: even in the darkest corners of the world, trust and joy can still bloom.

To be a police officer is more than wearing a uniform-it is carrying a responsibility that never ends. Police work means security. It means standing between danger and the innocent, no matter who they are or where they come from.

Our duty knows no time, no borders, no identity. We are guardians of human rights, protecting life and dignity around the clock. A refugee who has lost everything, a foreign citizen far from home-they all deserve safety. They all deserve to live without fear.

Policing is humanity in action. We do not judge by status or nationality; we act to protect every human being. Every act of service, every moment of courage, defends hope, trust, and the right to live in peace.

This is the essence of policing: to protect, to serve, to stand as a shield for all. We work day and night, leaving our families behind, but they take pride in our commitment, knowing that through our service, we bring safety and hope to others.

Reports by Rohingya Political Journalist Saiful Arakani.