“They shot at everything,” says Isaak Amos*, pointing to the walls of his home in Dabna, a small village in north-east Nigeria. “We had a sense that Boko Haram was going to do something, but there was nothing we could do to prepare for it.”

In attacks on the village two years ago, the militants killed and kidnapped more than 20 people. The local school, medical centre and church were all destroyed, forcing hundreds of people to flee from Dabna and neighbouring villages. Across north-eastern Nigeria, millions of people have been displaced.

But in the past 18 months, military success against the Boko Haram insurgency has encouraged many displaced Nigerians to go back home. More than 660,000 of those in camps in the north-east returned to their homes this year.

“People are slowly beginning to return,” says Amos. “People were determined to come back because many of us have our farms here. My family has been in this village for well over 100 years. Even though it’s risky being here, it’s hard to stay away from your home and livelihood.”

Since May last year, Tearfund, working with local partners, has been helping returnees and internally displaced people (IDPs) in the state of Adamawa with multiple cash grants of 11,000 naira (£27) a family, helping more than 27,000 people. The charity has also donated farming tools and provided training on farming in the dry season. Returnees have used the grants to cover a range of needs, including buying home appliances, new work tools and getting medical treatment. Most have used the funds and the tools to revive their farms.

On the day the insurgency hit Dabna, Amos was due to harvest his maize crops. The militants destroyed his farm. Since coming back to the village, he’s used the grants to start growing maize and rice to sell.

Beyond agricultural industries, there are few alternatives for employment. Land is not just intrinsically important to many people, it is also their only source of income. For returnees, being able to farm is critical to rebuilding their lives.

Bitrus Zakka*, 49, a butcher in the community, lost his livestock during the insurgency but has used the donor funds to buy goats to begin breeding. “Business is picking up again,” he says. “It was hard while people were afraid to return but that has been changing.”

Life in the villages around Dabna has partly returned to normal. Outside a small home, a chalk board announces the screening of Champions League football that evening. Beneath a canopy next to it is a snooker table surrounded by a noisy group of young men. Small businesses are growing, many homes are being rebuilt, and more than 70% of the people who lived in Dabna before the insurgency have returned.

“The progress in the last year has been really strong,” says Munene Kibera, a disaster response manager for Tearfund. “We’ve been able not only to replace the things destroyed by Boko Haram but to try to improve them. There is a new borehole, and we’ve helped train [people] on dry season farming and newer techniques to get the best from their land.”

A new school has been constructed and the church rebuilt, but many homes – their roofs and walls destroyed – remain empty and abandoned.

According to the chief of a nearby group of villages, the Boko Haram attacks have taken a toll on families and relationships here. “One of the sadder consequences has been several separations. There are couples where one partner has returned but the other cannot face it and has moved to Yola or a big city.

“And then there is the effect on their mental health. We had young girls and boys who were kidnapped by Boko Haram two years ago. The trauma was very bad for families – and still is. I had to pay for a father to be admitted into a psychiatric unit. He’s basically alone because his wife did not return with him. He is no longer in the unit but you can see he is not the same.”

Despite the fact that a drought in the past year has made life difficult for farmers in the region, there are 12,000 people displaced from neighbouring states like Borno who are living with host communities in Adamawa. Hundreds of people are sharing their homes and resources with displaced people, despite the recession and decreasing crop yields.

Harmisa Beriya*, 35, from Borno, came to Adamawa with his brother early last year, after fleeing the violence. They were sleeping rough outside a school in Gombi town, and were then allowed to stay in a school building that had been used to store equipment. “We’re so grateful that they let us stay here,” Beriya says. “All they asked was that we help them fix some of the damage done to the house. We’re happy to do it.”

Across Adamawa, many homes have been shared or temporarily given to displaced people to live in. Usman Hamza, chair of the local government in Gombi, says that despite the difficulties of accommodating thousands of people in harsh economic times, the state has been able to cope. “We’re really proud of the hospitality of our people,” he says. “We need them to eventually go back to their home states, but the people in Adamawa have accommodated them so well even with [what] little there is to go around due to the current recession.”

Tearfund, working with local partners, has helped to provide land to unemployed displaced people in Adamawa, as part of income-generating programmes. Many women have lost husbands – typically the main breadwinners in families – and now have to fend for themselves. The programmes give them the opportunity to cultivate their own plots of land.

Other women have learned to weave and embroider, skills that will help them sell in the local marketplace. Malika Bashir, a coordinator for the project, was herself displaced from Borno in 2014, from a village she says is still unsafe to return to.

“We don’t know when we’ll be able to go back home, but things like this have given us the means to build a life for ourselves here and be independent,” she says. “Even if you’re only living here temporarily, being able to stand on your own two feet and help your family is what everyone wants for themselves.”