In the searing heat, weary elders and mournful parents sit under trees or in front of their assigned concrete shelters in Gubio camp in Maiduguri, the capital of Borno State in north-eastern Nigeria. Barefoot children in dirty clothes, some visibly undernourished, stare at or greet visitors. There is a sense of silent tenacity among the group. Each person here has experienced a horrifying story of survival and loss at the hands of Boko Haram, and each has little choice but to will him or herself forward and navigate a new life.

Some 2.2 million people have fled their homes in north-eastern Nigeria since 2009 when Boko Haram intensified its attacks. Eighty per cent of these people came from Borno, the epicentre of the horrific violence, and 1 million sought refuge in the city of Maiduguri, which was safer than most other places in the state. These people have seen their children, parents, relatives and friends abducted or killed, have had their businesses looted, their crops burned, their animals stolen, and their houses and schools destroyed. Most of the displaced are living with friends or relatives or renting over-crowded apartments, and some are sheltering in Government-run camps.

Some 8,000 people have found protection in Gubio camp in Maiduguri. Most of its residents come from the Kukalor local government area and have been in the camp for almost a year. Aliyu, 35, is one of those people. Married and a father to five children, he used to be a successful entrepreneur, managing a fishing business in Kukalor. He did well: he owned two cars, had a beautiful house and earned enough to send all of his children to school and pay medical fees for his sick mother. But life as Aliyu knew it came to an end when militants attacked his village in January. He was separated from his wife and children in the attack and hasn’t heard from them since. He lost everything he owned. His previous life now seems a distant memory, he told OCHA. “Now I only have the clothes on my back,” he said, covering his face with his hands.

Mustapha, 46, also from Kukalor, is Aliyu’s neighbour and friend. His two younger daughters were abducted by Boko Haram. When he tried to stop them, the militants struck him on the head and left him for dead. He still does not know if his daughters are dead or alive.

Aliyu and Mustapha sit under a tree sipping freshly brewed tea and listening to the news. Mustapha has put all of his hopes in the Nigerian Government eradicating Boko Haram. “Some day Boko Haram will be chased out of our land and my children will return back home. I am still alive so I will see that day,” he said.

Residents of Gubio are living in trauma, but this has not stopped them from trying to get on with their new lives amid the pain. Many have started small businesses, selling provisions: sugar, eggs, coal, rice, condensed milk and tea. Most of the customers are young women – all of them veiled – who negotiate for the best price.

Muhammad, a 45-year-old kiosk owner and former farmer, says he invested all of his savings to open his small business in the camp. He put US$65 into stocking the kiosk with rice, eggs, noodles, sugar and AA batteries, and he built it from there. Muhammad has two wives and eight children living in the camp, but he cannot live with them, as men and women are forbidden from living together, even if married.

“In my village I used to farm corn, beans and groundnuts, but after they [Boko Haram] attacked us we had to leave and I lost all my crops and land. Now I am a businessman,” he said. On a good day he can make $7. “I save it for my return back home,” he told OCHA.

But living conditions in Gubio are getting tougher. Tight security measures and a few security incidents have meant the camp authorities have stopped issuing daily passes to camp residents, leaving them stuck in the camp. As a result, no one is able to earn money or buy goods, bringing trade to a halt.

But despite all that he has endured, Muhammad is not giving up. “We have been through the worst, and with God’s help we are still alive.”