getting appropriate help from clinics. A male youth further remarked that patients arrive at clinics “from all different locations” and that the clinics are thus seen as a potential disease vector. Others cited the long waiting times as a reason for declining to visit clinics and hospitals during the pandemic. Apprehensions of bias and ill treatment also led Rohingya community members to avoid clinics. Some reported that clinic staff “hate” Rohingya people, while others mentioned feeling “disrespect” and “discrimination” from clinic staff. Across the dozens of interviews conducted for this study, these perspectives seem quite widespread - including amongst camp residents who have never visited the clinics themselves. This is a sign of how much communication travels by word of mouth in the camps. The internet ban is again relevant here, as it means that rumours can spread more readily than verifiable news. While reliable empirical data is not yet available to quantitatively assess patient satisfaction with camp health facilities, the local research team documented similar complaints in nearly every interview they conducted. In a rumor-mill context it is easy to see how a small number of people’s bad experiences at clinics could shape the overall community’s negative perceptions. In contrast to their attitudes to the formal health clinics, many people prefer to visit unlicensed health practitioners and informal pharmacy shops. As noted in the ‘Flash Report’, a 53-year old religious leader said of the clinics that "It is well known that the staff are dealing with refugees in a bad manner. They don't show respect to us. We don’t feel good because of this, and also they are playing games and talking to their friends by mobile phone while patients are waiting." For such reasons, community members often opt to seek advice and supplies from informal sources outside of the clinics. Unlicensed health practitioners in the camps offer an appealing avenue of recourse for camp residents who fear going to clinics. However, as will now be examined in more detail, the practices of these practitioners present some further complications. Camp residents in Cox’s Bazar use the terms “community doctor” “fake doctor” “illegal doctor” and “quack doctor” to refer to Rohingya who have set up pharmaceutical shops in camp markets or their shelters and who offer services as unauthorized health practitioners. As a 23-year-old woman described: People usually buy medicine from the pharmacy. Those who have no income simply rely on Allah. In the camps, most people go to “community doctors” because people trust them more. Community doctors communicate with people smoothly, and patients can explain their symptoms to them freely and clearly. 16