It’s been a long road for the internally displaced from Tirah. On the run from their homes since the military launched an operation there in the middle of last year, thousands of people have been refugees in their own land for months. But now, as the time comes for them to return, they have all sorts of apprehensions.

But almost none of them are to do with the Taliban. Nor are they particularly worried about the prospect of going back to ruined homes. No, their concerns are more tangible. Food, water, transport and, above all, money.

As we pull up outside Jerma Point in Kohat district, one of the repatriation points for the various tribes from Tirah, we are greeted by a sea of men and vehicles. Soldiers in uniform keep a watchful eye over tribesmen scurrying about, heaving their luggage onto trucks and buses. There are no women here and very few children: the collection of aid is a messy business. “This is no place for women. When we have loaded our vehicle, we will go and pick up our families,” says a man standing next to his nearly full truck.

As we walk in, we are greeted by the camp management staff. Wahab from the Fata Disaster Management Authority (FDMA) shows us around. “IDPs are issued slips that entitle them to receive supplies from different aid agencies. Each family is then allotted a vehicle and when we have enough cars for a convoy, we bid them adieu.”

Since he isn’t allowed to speak to the media, he apologises for not being able to tell us more. But he is kind enough to show us around the facility that houses at least four warehouses, each packed with relief goods and other essential items. The care packages most families receive are tailored for large households. There are three different packets: a health and hygiene kit, rations and non-food items (NFIs).

“We have until the 30th to get as many people as we can back to Tirah. But joplan banatay hain woh zaruri nahinachieve bhi ho jaye,” he tells us with a knowing smile.

When we arrive at the officials’ tent, we are greeted by a fine feast of spring rolls and fruit cake. This tea-party-in-a-tent is presided over by Khyber Agency Political Agent Shahab Shah.

Information officers from different NGOs interview those who have complaints. They are from the Protection Cluster, which looks after the rights of those affected by humanitarian crises and ensures that the displaced aren’t treated unjustly.

Inside the main tent, a volunteer from the Sarhad Rural Support Programme records the complaint of a Sikh family. When we try to eavesdrop, the man flashes me a welcoming smile. His interviewee is Sawinder Singh, originally from Maidan in the Tirah Valley. He says nearly 50 Sikh families had relocated to a Shia-dominated part of Orakzai Agency ever since the fighting broke out again. “I’m not here for a handout. We have resources; we can afford to live on our own. But what we really need is the ijazat nama which makes it convenient for us travel to and from our area.”

He’s speaking to the man from the Protection Cluster because his and 15 other Sikh families are not among those registered as IDPs at Jerma Point. “We are Pakistanis, who shouldn’t need to be ‘registered’ anywhere. We have our CNICs, we own property in our areas, what more proof does one need?”

The man from Protection is sympathetic yet dismissive, saying simply, “They never submitted a VRF.” Short for Voluntary Return Form, this is the first thing UN agencies and the various Provincial Disaster Management Authorities (PDMAs) ask displaced families to fill out. This is especially important for those living off-camp, i.e. with host families or in lodgings not provided to them by the government.

“We’ve run an extensive information campaign, on radio and in the local print media. But these people still don’t come. We’re now putting them down for the time allotted to non-registered returnees,” the Protection volunteer says.

Outside the secure confines of the distribution point, it’s a different world. There are large congregations of men, huddled up in solemnity. We approach one of these mini jirgas and try to listen in. We are told the man in the centre is Said Wazir of the Malikdeen Khel tribe. He is another volunteer who has gathered up the CNICs of those tribesmen who are still unregistered and not eligible to receive supplies and transport. The heaving mass of humanity argues about what the terms of the agreement will be. Wazir knows that they are not getting a cash handout, so he periodically gets up and threatens to walk off when the men start talking about money. But Wazir is not an NGO worker; he’s just a conscientious man who decided to take the initiative.

Back in the compound, as the rush of insistent returnees dies down for the day, the various aid agencies and Protection volunteers gather to take stock of the day’s work. Assistant Political Agent Nasir Khan presides over the proceedings. It’s like a classroom; the teacher turns to each person in turn, they say their name, their organisation’s name and list out their accomplishments for the day. Details of focus group discussions conducted, grievances recorded, supplies disbursed.

More than 7,500 families are to be repatriated in this round of returns. The men heave a collective sigh as the camp closes down for the day. It’s not over yet, they all seem to be thinking.