AS one travels on the Malakand-Qambar-Mingora road one cannot help but admire the resolve of the people one meets.

Although there are numerous blown-up homes, schools, petrol pumps and hotels — a legacy of the Taliban and the army action — the returning residents display a strange kind of steadfastness. They are prepared to pay any price to revert to a normal life. But there are others who fear the consequences of their return.

The journey of exploration begins in Peshawar. As we reach the Shergarh check-post in Mardan, we witness the mixed sentiments of those waiting to go home. The children are delighted; the elderly worn out with the heat. Others are tired of the scanning and screening process which they also find humiliating. Movement is slow and as we pass through various check-posts before entering Swat via Dargai, Batkhela and Landakai (the first point of entry into Swat), the army personnel conducting the screening appear as fatigued as those who are being screened.

On entering Swat, we pass through Kota, an area which again bears signs of Taliban atrocities and army aggression. We find schools that have been decimated by the Talibs and homes razed by the army during search operations. There is a strange silence here. We enter Barikot where the bazaars are open but the shoppers few. We pass Thana Ghaligai. On the other side of the Swat River we catch a glimpse of areas that have not been cleared yet. In Manyar we see a destroyed police station and a blown-up school. Onwards to Qambar.

“The Talibs attacked our school thrice,” says Fazl Mohammad, principal of the high school in Qambar, formerly a Taliban stronghold, some 2km from Mingora city, “but we did not lose heart.” Here he sits with his staff amidst the rubble under the clear blue sky with the Pakistani flag flying at full mast. Classes have resumed. His commitment to bringing normalcy to Swat is seen in

his decision to restart education activities amid the debris as soon as the announcement to reopen schools was made.

Further on, a group of children are seen shaking hands with some soldiers. The atmosphere is relaxed and congenial. Some tents are seen at a distance. Outside Swat these would appear as refugee camps. But here, these are tent schools. Most of the school building in the locality is occupied by the army.

“Running a school in tents is extremely difficult,” says Akhtar Hussain, acting principal of the Balogram Secondary School, “but we cannot afford to lose more time.” Swat district, he says, had the highest literacy rate in the province. “It has been two years since this conflict began and since then education in this region has suffered considerably. In order to move ahead, it is important to make use of all the resources we have,” he asserts.

As we move further, we cross the Mingora bypass and enter Naway Killa and then the Mingora bazaar. Again while wares are on display the buyers are few. According to Rizwan Ali (real name withheld on request) who runs a bakery in Mingora's main market, “things have improved considerably since the army took over. But it will take time for matters to normalise”. He refers to some women who are out shopping in chadors. “This was impossible during the reign of the Talibs. Women had to wear burkas and could not venture out alone.”

But despite these voices of hope, uncertainty and fear are palpable. “Seems like Ramazan,” observes Shaukat, our driver who is taking us from Peshawar to Mingora. According to human rights activist Mohammad Qasim, this environment of fear stems from the fact that despite an extensive military offensive, the Taliban leadership is still intact and that, despite the government's assurances of peace, the hills still echo with the sounds of shelling.

Seventeen-year-old Fawad, who lives in Qambar reveals that, fearing shelling by the army, his friends stay away from school. “They don't believe the government claim of the area being cleared of militants,” he says. “Last night too we could hear the shelling.”

According to government officials although 90 per cent of the valley has been cleared of the Taliban, the militants' presence in certain pockets continues to haunt the local people. This has not only caused resentment among the returnees but has also created a new breed of internally displaced from the Matta, Kanju and Kabal areas. Although they have returned to Swat, they are unable to go back home.

“Our areas have not been cleared yet,” says Batoora Bibi, who comes from the Kanju-Kabal area and is currently residing with some relatives in Mingora. “Although we are so close to home, we are forced to live like refugees.” She laments the loss of her family's property and business and is sceptical of the future. “How are we to support our children?” she weeps. “The homes that we built after working all our lives have been razed to the ground. What are we supposed to do?”

In addition to the enormous task of starting life anew, the returnees are also troubled by rumours of another exodus on the way. “If true, this would be the worst atrocity committed against us,” says Nasim, a housewife who resides in Mingora. She, like many others, says that come what may, dying in Swat is better than leaving home again.