The green Bato Ali mosque on Marawi’s Gomisa Avenue is a heartbreaking reminder of the fierce battles the military fought to stop supporters of Islamic State (Isis) from carving out a caliphate in the Philippines.

The dome, minaret and walls are pockmarked by bullets, shrapnel and gaping holes punched out by bombs. One of the largest allows sunlight to enter the basement underneath the mosque, where militants were once holed up with hostages including a Catholic priest.

Bato Ali was just one of the mosques the militants occupied with their hostages, knowing the military would be forced to exercise some restraint.

Some neighbouring buildings in the “Islamic capital” of the Philippines fared far worse than Bato Ali. Here, the walls of multi-storey houses have been destroyed, exposing rooms inside. There, a three-storey building tilts to one side. Rusting vehicles sit idle on every street.

A mosque lies in ruins in Marawi City, on the southern island of Mindanao. Photograph: Merlyn Manos/AFP/Getty Images

‘It hurts to see it’

One year after homegrown and foreign fighters led by the Maute Group laid siege to the city under the banner of Isis, leading to the deaths of more than 1,000 people, the terror threat remains, and tens of thousands of residents are still unable to return to their homes.

Marawi is a ghost town.

Colonel Romeo Brawner, a military spokesman in Marawi, says military engineers need more time to clear unexploded ordnance, including a few 500lb bombs dropped by the FA-50 fighter trainer jets of the Philippine air force.

It is among several issues delaying the rehabilitation work and prolonging the displacement of at least 50,000 residents, a quarter of the city’s population before the siege.

Between 1 April and 10 May, residents were allowed into the former battle area under escort to visit their homes before their scheduled demolition in June.



“It hurts to see it. My wife wailed when we came back for the first time. She almost fainted,” Abdul Tawab Amer said when he came to visit.

Abdul Tawab Amer in front of his property in the village of Moncado Colony in Marawi. Photograph: Carmela Fonbuena/The Guardian

Nothing prepared Amer for the grief of seeing the wreckage of his three-storey property that doubled as family residence and women’s dormitory. “We saw drone photos uploaded on Facebook but we could only see the roof. We used a telescope [from the vantage point of a nearby university] but we could only see one side of the building. We thought it wasn’t hit,” Amer told the Guardian.

The side they didn’t see was a wreck, the target of repeated fire. Amer also found walls had been knocked through. “The black people must have carved those holes to be able to cross to the nearby buildings,” he said, referring to the colour of the Isis fighters’ shirts during the siege.

The temporary visit was meant to allow residents to collect remaining valuables, but complaints of looting were rampant. Amer was able to collect only metal scraps, which he plans to sell to a junkyard.

Majul Gandamra, the mayor of the city where he grew up and lived, was himself a victim. “It’s totally devastated. The people sometimes find themselves feeling hopeless, but we are doing our best to help them,” Gandamra says.

A sign warns of unexploded ordnance inside in Marawi. Military engineers are checking and disposing of them. The military says the job won’t be done until October 2018. Photograph: Carmela Fonbuena/The Guardian

On 10 May, the former battle zone was closed again to the public. Demolition work is expected to begin in June to make way for the city to be rebuilt. Public facilities will be constructed first, which is estimated to take 18 months, before residents will be allowed to go back and work on their own properties.

“We need to lift their morale of the people, especially those who continue to be in evacuation centres. It’s not easy to be away from your home for a prolonged period,” says Gandamra.

‘Magnet for foreign fighters’

While the reconstruction plan is being finalised, the threat from Isis-linked groups remains, despite the deaths of leaders including Isnilon Hapilon, the supposed Isis emir in south-east Asia.

The military is still rounding up members of the Maute Group in the city and nearby towns.

Heavy clashes still rage between other local groups and foreign fighters in other parts of the island of Mindanao, where martial law remains enforced. There are also concerns about Asian Isis fighters coming back from the Middle East possibly seeking refuge in the Philippines.

Speaking of the Isis threat in Marawi, General Carlito Galvez Jr, the chief of staff of the Philippines armed forces (AFP), is circumspect: “They are greatly weakened. We cannot stay complacent but we are very confident of our counter-terrorism efforts.”

“When millions of pesos will be poured in for the rehabilitation, we have to make sure it will be unimpeded, it will be safe, and our contractors will not be hampered by any threat of kidnapping or any aggressions from the Maute-Isis,” he said.

Zachary Abuza, a south-east Asia security expert at the National War College in Washington, says the problem is “Mindanao will continue to be a magnet for foreign fighters” because of “sufficient amounts of ungoverned or poorly governed space”.

“The AFP is better trained and better resourced than it was in the past, but it is still insufficient for the overwhelming number of threats that it faces,” he said.

An uncertain future

The fight against extremism isn’t always on the battlefield, however.

“I am more concerned about the slow rehabilitation of Marawi and the surge in local discontent towards the government,” says Abuza. “I am concerned about the peace process with the MILF (Moro Islamic Liberation Front) being drawn-out and poorly implemented. These are what turn the populations on the government, not the actions of small cells of terrorists,” said Abuza.

The government is aware of these issues. Galvez says making sure the rehabilitation is successful is part of government strategy to defeat the narratives of extremism.

“I speak regularly with secretary Eduardo Del Rosario,” he says, referring to the national government official leading government rehabilitation efforts. “You will see the plan. It’s very beautiful.”

Saint Mary’s cathedral in Marawi where Isis supporters shot a propaganda video during the war. Church leaders say it can be demolished. Photograph: Carmela Fonbuena/The Guardian

The Chinese-led Bangon Marawi Consortium is poised to win a 17.2bn-Philippine peso ($328m) contract to rehabilitate the former battleground, just one of the infrastructure projects that could go to the country since president Rodrigo Duterte started to signal closer ties with Beijing.

The contract has yet to be awarded, but whatever the outcome, the former residents of Marawi have a long wait to go home, and are unsure what their city will look like when they do.

Ica Fernandez, a planning expert, says there are concerns among Marawi residents that government plans for the city may alter their way of life.

“At the heart of it is a desire for consultation. The fear is Marawi becoming Makati,” said Fernandez, referring to the country’s financial district.

Residents protested against suggestions to adopt strict commercial and residential zoning regulations, for example. It goes against the traditionally mixed-use urban structures they’re used to – where businesses are on the ground floor while the upper floors serve as housing for extended families.

“We want to go home. We hope to rebuild and rise again. Are we hoping in vain? It’s been too long,” said Amer.