Kochi: On the 23rd floor of Chander Kunj Towers in Vytilla’s Silver Sand Island, amid half-sealed cartons and upturned furniture, a battered black trunk waits to be carried out. Its hinges hang loose, and the lock is long gone. Its lid is bound with a few strands of wire. To the casual eye, it is a piece of junk that is oddly out of place among the glossy moving boxes. But for its owner, Colonel V Jayan, it is a companion of three decades and is worth more than anything else in his flat.

“I got it when I joined the Army in March 1992,” he says, pausing amid the disorder of packing. “We soldiers keep certain things as souvenirs: a spoon, a chair, or, maybe, something from a remote station. For me, it began with that black trunk. It has been with me since the first day. It was my sofa for six years, and later my bookshelf. Even after I bought this flat, I kept it here, covered with a cloth, because it carries the memories of a lifetime. It has no hinge, no hook, but I want it exactly as it is,” he says.

This time, however, the trunk is not being readied for another posting. It is leaving because the flat itself is slated for demolition. The 24-storey twin towers, built by the Army Welfare Housing Organisation (AWHO) for retired and serving officers in Kochi’s Silver Sand Island, have been declared unsafe after courts found glaring structural defects. The High Court has ordered its demolition, and eviction notices have already been served.

An Onam of despair
Across Kerala, homes are alive with the colour of Pookalams and the aroma of Onasadyas. At Chander Kunj, the air is filled instead with the scrape of packing tape and the thud of movers’ boots. Parks lie deserted and the compound clogs with trucks.

“We used to have wonderful Onam celebrations,” recalls Colonel Ciby George (Retd), edging down a broken staircase. “This year, there is only darkness and despair. Our conversations are not about festivities, but about movers’ rates, temporary rentals, and where to shift next. After 35 or 40 years of service, this is what we face,” he says.

A dream reduced to dust
For many veterans, these apartments represented more than shelter. They were the long-promised anchor after decades of movement, sacrifice, and duty. Now, the river Kaniyambuzha flows serenely beside buildings riven with cracks and falling plaster. Granite slabs bulge; floors warp under strain; and the basement leaks with water.

“As families leave, they carry away not just furniture but fragments of a dream,” says Jayan. His wife, Anita, echoes the grief. “This flat was my dream. I supervised every detail of the interiors. I never rented it out because I wanted it for our retired life. We moved in only in 2021. Now everything is gone. All 264 families here have similar stories,” she says.

Broken trust
What cuts deepest is not just the loss of homes, but the betrayal of trust. “This is treachery,” says Captain Paul Erinjeri (Retd), his voice hard with anger. “We swore to obey the President’s orders at the peril of our lives, and this is the treatment we get. I still pay a heavy home loan for a flat that will be demolished. I cannot afford rent elsewhere. But I will not cry. I am a soldier,” he says.

Others speak of silence and indifference. “The courts themselves have pointed to AWHO’s failures,” says Ciby George. “Yet every favourable judgment is dragged into appeal. If they had just sat down with us once, some resolution could have been found,” he adds.

The toll is crushing. Serving officers have had to take special leave from high-altitude posts just to pack up and prepare for leaving. Families dump belongings in rented flats with no plan for the future. Elderly veterans in their seventies and eighties face the heaviest burden.

“We put our lives and savings into these homes, trusting AWHO,” says George quietly. “Now we are left adrift. We only hope this agony ends soon,” he adds.

The Chander Kunj Army Towers were built by the Army Welfare Housing Organisation (AWHO) with construction starting in 2013 and apartments being handed over to residents in 2018. Within a year, residents reported significant structural defects. Subsequent studies by institutions like IIT Madras and IISc Bengaluru identified high chloride content in the concrete, which caused severe corrosion of the steel rods and led to rapid deterioration of the buildings.

Following legal challenges from the residents, the Kerala High Court in February 2025 ordered the demolition and reconstruction of the two main towers, B and C. The court-appointed committee has set a tentative demolition date for November 9, 2025, with a plan for the new buildings to be handed over by October 31, 2029. The deadline set by the district collector for the residents to vacate ended on August 31. However, due to the ongoing legal dispute over rent compensation and relocation, more than 50 families still refuse to vacate the premises until the AWHO fulfils its financial obligations.