A story by Duong Nguyen, Communications Analyst, UNDP Viet Nam
A New Roof of Hope
December 27, 2024

It was a quiet May afternoon in Phuoc Thanh, a small commune in Binh Dinh Province, Viet Nam. Thuong, the commune’s cultural officer, took me on the back of her scooter across the vast rice fields. The white clouds were still lingering around the mountain top after a heavy summer rain, the scent of ripening rice and wet soil weaving through the light breeze. Taking a deep breath to inhale the fresh air, for a moment, I almost forgot that this peaceful place was once contaminated with explosive ordnance and continues to face the threat of natural disasters each year.
Through the village, crossing two sign boards saying, “Do not cross during high water”, my colleagues and I stopped in front of two freshly painted blue houses. Greeting us was a tiny old lady, Auntie Nga, one of the house owners. “Thank you!”, she said even before we could say hello to her, “Thank you so much!”, she repeated while reaching her hands out to us. Pure joy filled her face.
As she led us through the courtyard into her new home, Auntie Nga pointed to the top of the door frame of what had been her old house, now used as a kitchen and storage space. “The water came up to here,” she said, recalling the floods.
It had not been easy for Nga, a 67-year-old lady who lives all by herself. Every time a storm or flood hit, she could only flee to higher ground with a few belongings and watch helplessly as her house was submerged. Her income, which depends on a small rice patch and vegetable garden she owns, barely covers her daily cost of living, making a more stable house seem unreachable.

As we spoke, a curious voice interrupted. “Hi, why are you here?” It was Nghia, the boy who lived next door. Wearing a red spiderman shirt, Nghia looked rather small compared to other 10-year-old boys, but his face was joyful and witty. Little did I know, Nghia has been suffering from a serious illness of the digestive system from early age, which affected his health heavily. Sometimes, he has to skip school, and even faces bullying from his peers due to his condition. His mother, Hong, spends most of her time taking care of him. Whenever Nghia goes to school, she bikes around to collect plastic bottles and cans that she can sell for a very small income. Like Auntie Nga, the storms and floods affected Nghia and his mother, and similarly, a more secure house only existed in their dreams.
It was last December when life significantly changed for Auntie Nga and Nghia’s family. They both were selected to receive a climate-resilient house as part of the Korea – Viet Nam Peace Village Project (KVPVP). These “safe houses,” as they casually call them, were built from durable concrete that can withstand strong winds and storms. They also feature elevated floor and mezzanines, providing a secure place for people, their harvested crops, and belongings when floods occur. The new house is rather small and humbly furnished, yet it can protect families and their previous assets through floods and storms.
Covering Thua Thien-Hue, Quang Ngai, and Binh Dinh, three of the most UXO-contaminated and climate change- affected provinces in the country, KVPVP is the second phase of the Korea – Viet Nam Mine Action Project (KVMAP). It is implemented by the Viet Nam Mine Action Center (VNMAC), UNDP, and the Provincial People’s Committee of the selected provinces with generous funding from Korean International Cooperation Agency (KOICA). The project combines mine action with local, sustainable development for rural communities affected both my contaminated lands and climate disasters. This includes building climate-resilient infrastructure and promoting climate-smart agricultural practices in vulnerable regions where UXO survey and clearance is taking place. By 2026, 400 climate-resilient houses will be built for vulnerable people in the three provinces.

“Can you help me say thank you to them?”, Auntie Nga asked, pointing at my foreign colleagues, trying to make sure all of us know how grateful she is. “I have always been lonely, but at least now I’m happy”, she smiled brightly. I raised my camera too quickly to capture the moment clearly, resulting in a blurry picture, but the joy in her smile was unmistakable.
Nghia walked us to the main road after our visit, with his two small puppies following close behind. “They won’t bite,” he said with a giggle, noticing my cautious glance at the dogs. I looked at Nghia, grateful for his new house and for the project that had made it possible. “Stay healthy, stay strong, and grow up well, little Nghia,” I silently wished.

We continued our journey, carrying with us the hope that one day soon, Phuoc Thanh and the rest of Viet Nam would be free from the dangers of explosive ordnance and more resilient to the shocks of extreme weather events, so our people could live without fear and build a brighter future.