From a seemingly hopeless situation of devastation, thanks to the support of officers and soldiers of Xuan Hoa Border Guard Post (Dak Lak Provincial Border Guard), a new house is being built, bringing hope to Kieu’s family.
Early in the morning in Hamlet 3, the gentle sunlight of the year-end falls on the courtyard still dark with mud, softly dispelling the smell of fresh mortar. Before them, the house is nearing completion. The walls are gradually rising, the iron columns and formwork are neatly arranged, preparing for the roof to be poured.
Le Kieu stands by the courtyard, her eyes following the rhythmic movements of the officers and soldiers, each brick being laid, a testament to the restoration of hope for her family after the storm. Each brick is not only part of the roof structure but also a testament to the strength of the close bond between the military and the people.
The fragile house and the unexpected storm
Before Typhoon No. 13 struck, the life of Le Kieu’s family was peaceful, although still full of difficulties. The family was classified as poor, and Kieu and her husband were raising three children.
With no land for cultivation or stable employment, the family’s livelihood depended entirely on odd jobs, precarious and unpredictable from day to day. Kieu did whatever work people hired her for, while her husband worked as a construction labourer, with work coming and going.
The small house in front of the coconut grove, where the whole family lived, had been dilapidated for many years. She had once wished that with a few more years of saving, she could renovate the house to make it more sturdy before the storm season, but she did not have time to do so before the typhoon hit.
On the afternoon Typhoon No. 13 made landfall, Kieu and her husband quickly gathered essential belongings and took their children to her mother’s house next door to escape the storm. “At that time, all I thought about was getting the children out of the house as quickly as possible; I had no choice but to accept the consequences for the house,” Kieu recounted. In an instant, the storm tore down her family’s house. “I watched the house collapse, my limbs went numb, I did not know what life would be like,” Kieu recalled.
After the storm, she returned to her old home, the house, the family’s biggest asset, was gone, leaving a desolate void. In the days that followed, her family temporarily stayed in her mother's small house. They did not have to go far, but the sadness of losing their home kept her awake many nights. Life was already difficult, and now it was even more burdensome.
A home built on the bond between soldiers and civilians
After the storm passed, Village 3 gradually returned to its familiar rhythm of life. On the land in front of the coconut trees, where Kieu’s small house used to be, the atmosphere gradually changed. Trucks carrying building materials stopped one after another. Cement and steel were stockpiled beside the old house. The foundation was dug again, square and more solid, like a new beginning after days of devastation.
Following the assignment from the Dak Lak Provincial Border Guard Command, the Xuan Hoa Border Guard Post directly coordinated and assisted in rebuilding the house for Kieu’s family. Not only did the officers and soldiers contribute their labour, but they also closely monitored each aspect, from the foundation and pillars to the walls and roof, ensuring the construction was completed on schedule, according to technical standards, safely, and durably.
On the small construction site, the border guards worked quietly. Their shirts were soaked with sweat, their hands covered in mortar dust, as they divided the tasks among themselves: some mixed concrete, others transported materials, and still others built walls, carefully adjusting each brick. Standing by her mother’s house, Ms. Kieu watched the construction progress with a sense of relief after days of worry.
“After the storm, all I wanted was a safe place for my children, especially my youngest, who is just over a month old. When I heard the soldiers were coming to help rebuild the house, I was so happy I could hardly believe it was true,” Ms. Kieu shared, her voice choked with emotion.
Nguyen Thi Gioi, Kieu’s mother, her face still etched with the worries of the storm and flood, held her young grandchild and said, “Our house collapsed, I feel so sorry for my daughter and grandchild! We could only encourage each other to try our best to live. Now that I see the soldiers coming to help rebuild the house, I’m overjoyed beyond words. With the soldiers by our side, the people feel even more secure and grateful to the officers and soldiers of the border guard!”
Day by day, the house gradually took shape. The walls stood firm under the sun, rows of bricks perfectly straight. The roof awaited its repair. In the yard, children ran around under the coconut trees, their clear laughter echoing amidst the construction site still cluttered with materials, gradually dispelling the heavy memories of the stormy days. This simple yet heartwarming image served as proof of rebirth after the natural disaster.
“Seeing the villagers lose their homes and their lives turned upside down, we all felt anxious, only hoping to contribute a little more effort so that the family could soon settle down and stabilise their lives. It’s not a big deal, but it’s our duty, the feeling of a border guard towards the people in the area where we are stationed,” Lieutenant Huynh Cong Duc shared while carrying bricks.
As evening fell over the small village, the late-year sun slanted through the coconut trees, gently illuminating the house still smelling of mortar. The new home, built from the silent labour and dedicated hearts of the border guards, now serves as a solid foundation for Kieu’s family.
On the land once devastated by the storm, life began to flow at a simple yet resilient pace, just like the people who live here. In the future, daily life will continue. Her husband will return to his construction work, she will continue to manage her familiar odd jobs, and her children will innocently go to school like any other child.
Amidst this seemingly tranquil life, the new house stands there, steadfast as a testament to the power of rebirth. It not only provides shelter from the rain and sun but also carries faith and hope, reminding us that even if the storm sweeps everything away, with sharing, kindness, and responsibility, life can still be rebuilt, step by step so that peaceful days can once again blossom on this land.
