From housing needs, helping migrants and refugees – to community sports – David Giles explores the diverse ways that The Salvation Army meets human needs in Thailand.
The Salvation Army’s relationship with Thailand is a fairly new one. The movement began exploring ministry in Thailand in 2012, identifying significant social and spiritual needs despite the country’s economic growth. Although the registration process started in 2016, official government approval was only granted on 28 April 2023, with oversight from the Singapore, Malaysia and Myanmar Territory.
Work in Chiang Mai started in 2014 with appointed leaders, leading to a growing worshipping community from 2015 onwards. Since then, The Salvation Army has carried out a wide range of activities, including disaster relief, prison visits and support for vulnerable groups. These run alongside community and faith-based programs such as children’s camps, sports ministry, Bible studies and fellowship events.
David Giles went to Thailand in the Autumn of 2025 and spoke with a number of people connected with The Salvation Army; officers, workers, volunteers and people who have needed help in different ways. Across Thailand, behind the smiles and cultural richness are real and pressing needs; families at risk of separation, vulnerable migrants and communities longing for hope. Newly established but steadily growing, The Salvation Army is working hand in hand with local people to share practical care and the message that every person matters deeply to God.
‘Mai bpen rai!’ exclaimed the elderly Thai woman with a gap-toothed smile. I’d accidentally brushed her with my luggage trolley, while transiting through Bangkok’s vast Suvarnabhumi airport. ‘Mai bpen rai’ doesn’t directly translate, but conveys connotations of ‘it’s OK’, ‘no problem’, ‘it doesn’t matter’.
Thailand, the self-confessed ‘Land of Smiles’, welcomes millions of tourists each year, swelling its population of 70 million. Formerly Siam, it’s the only Southeast Asian country never colonised by the West – a fact that gives Thais a unique pride and distinctive identity. Beneath the smiling façade, however, lie deep societal needs.
Compared with the Thai royal dynasty, dating from 1128, The Salvation Army’s history here is short. Official registration came only in 2023; ministry beginning not in the capital Bangkok but in Chiang Mai, Thailand’s second city. And so, taking care not to collide with any more Thai pensioners, my journey continued north.
Over a plate of fiery pork kaprao, Envoy Mark Parsons (from The Salvation Army’s Canada & Bermuda Territory) describes how it started. ‘It was all about meeting need,’ he explains. ‘Back in 2014, pioneer officers from the USA began worshipping together – five or six people, almost a house-church meeting in their quarters.’
That afternoon, we visit the Fah Mai community – a settlement of 315 households straddling a canal in the suburbs. There I meet village elder Wing, who shares his story on the bridge he’d built to connect the communities straddling both banks, Muslim on one side, Buddhist on the other. ‘I was an orphan, poor as a child,’ he said. ‘When I came here, there were just a few houses. People without land came because they could live cheaply. Now 1,000 people – hill-tribe, Burmese, Lao, Thai – live side by side. We don’t let religion divide us.’
Our conversation is interrupted by a council excavator dredging the canal to reduce the risk of flooding. Wing smiles broadly at this positive development. ‘When I first arrived,’ he says, ‘the water was black. It took years to make it liveable. Now our challenge is our children – how to guide them, keep them from drugs. We must start early, bring sports and good activities. I stay here because I love helping.’
From left to right: Wing, elder of the Fah Mai community; Rachel Ng, The Salvation Army’s Social Services Coordinator for Thailand; field workers Jik and Boy
Wing and his fragile community matter to The Salvation Army
Rachel Ng, The Salvation Army’s Social Services Coordinator for Thailand, unpacks the challenge. ‘Family breakdown is a serious issue here. There is a high rate of parent/child separation where many children end up in orphanages or institutional care, even though there may be at least one living parent. UNICEF reports there are 120,000 children in orphanages across Thailand, even though many have living parents. We estimate there are 30,000 in Chiang Mai alone. Separation can often be prevented if families get support.’
Housing stability must come first, but child development is key to long-term change.
‘Parents also often migrate for work, leaving children with grandparents,’ Ng explains. ‘We’re doing a thorough community needs assessment to better understand the deeper social and cultural nuances, before we design support systems that keep parents and children together.’
To gain valuable insight, The Salvation Army partners with local group Co Ground. Field workers Jik and Boy have lived in Fah Mai for months. ‘We chose this community because it’s one of the toughest,’ Boy tells me. ‘We found more hardship than expected – no land rights, poor health, few play spaces. Housing stability must come first, but child development is key to long-term change.’

Jansom with her granddaughter
They introduce me to Jansom, a 78-year-old grandmother of three. She welcomes us into her single-room home. ‘Their parents separated,’ she shares, voice trembling. ‘We worry about their schooling. The school helps with meals, but it’s still hard.’ A wheelchair user, she sells snacks from her doorstep daily while her husband drives a songthaew (shared taxi) to eke out a living. As we speak, her youngest ward arrives back from school, and the pair share a tender moment together before the youngster goes out to play barefoot on the rough ground.
Jansom and her family matter
Disability is a recurring theme. I meet Yada, a Chiang Mai corps member, and her son Por, who has Down syndrome. She shares, ‘After getting married, life was hard. My husband drank, smoked, didn’t work. Then Por came into our lives – my husband’s nephew, abandoned [because of his disability]. We took him in when he was 13 days old. I love him as my own.’
Yada’s is a difficult story to hear. Fifteen years ago, my wife and I worked in Thailand with a Christian organisation which sought to provide care to abandoned disabled children. Disability was often considered to be a result of karma – the belief in divine punishment for wrong deeds done in a previous life. Consequently, children born with disabilities – no matter how minor – would commonly be confined to the back of a house (or abandoned entirely), denied the education and socialisation of ‘normal’ peers. Like Yada, we adopted. To learn that at least some of the same stigma persists today… heartbreaking.
Yada continued: ‘We lost everything – house, car, hope. But God restored us. I hadn’t gone to church for years, then a Salvationist invited me. I read Isaiah 43: “See, I am doing a new thing” and God spoke. I became a soldier. My first prayer is for peace in my family. My husband doesn’t believe yet, but I keep praying. I hope everyone I love will come to know God so that they will experience his love.’

Yada with her son, Por – showing one of the T-shirts he sells at market
Yada and her husband matter
Por’s condition means that he has communication challenges, but he is keen to impress me with colourful T-shirts he sells at market. ‘How much?’, I ask. ‘270 baht,’ he responds. My Thai language skills temporarily lapse, and I mistakenly confirm ‘250 baht?’
‘No, no,’ he states firmly, ‘270 baht.’ I apologise for my error and hand over the full amount, impressed with his entrepreneurship and confidence in striking the right deal! The following day, Por tracks me down at an English-language class for migrant children, and hands me a thank-you card for my purchase. With customer service skills like that, he should go far!
Por, and every disabled young person, matters
Further north, in Chiang Rai, near the borders with Myanmar and Laos, I met Majors Tluanga and Mawii, leading the newly established church here. Their tenacious faith is evident; in the early days they would meet weekly for Sunday worship just as a family. It took months of persistent prayer to see any fruit. Recently, the tide has turned – additional chairs had to be bought, and Chief Secretary Lieut-Colonel Dr Nigel Cross visited in December 2025 to enrol 26 senior soldiers!



Clockwise from left: Church leaders Majors Tluanga and Mawii in Chiang Rai; vibrant Sunday worship; the Bhudist ‘White Temple’ in Chan Rai
This geographical crossroads resembles a modern-day Babel, with people coming to the corps from all neighbouring areas. Major Tluanga notes that, ‘even local Buddhists are now joining us on Sundays – for the fellowship and community meals, but also because they can understand the teaching we provide.’ Traditionally, teaching in the temples is conducted in the classical Pāli language, equivalent to preaching in Latin.
After a vibrant multilingual service, new believers share their stories. Van, a Chin migrant from Myanmar, says, ‘Our bosses are Buddhists. We can’t always get Sundays off.’ Nunu, speaks of learning powerfully to: ‘show Christ through actions’. Anukip sums it all up: ‘Since joining The Salvation Army, I’ve received a love I never had before.’
Migrants matter
Major Tluanga lists a dizzying array of activities designed to meet people where they are, from prison ministry to disaster response. The following day, we travel further into the Golden Triangle, to understand the context better. On the Laos side of the Mekong River, a special economic zone exudes financial confidence. There is an enormous multi-storey casino and high-rise buildings that simply don’t exist on the Thai or Burmese sides. But this is not Laos ‘proper’, it’s an extensive site leased by the Laotian authorities to a private company. While that has achieved unprecedented investment into the area, it has come at the cost of illegal trade in wild animal parts, alleged cybercrime and many other illicit activities, including human trafficking.
We had been due to meet two men who had been lured from Myanmar by people traffickers, with promises of employment in Thailand. The ‘agency’ required the pair to pay several hundred US dollars for their ‘service’, but then smuggled the men across the border illegally and concealed them within a small room on the Thai side. They realised something was wrong in the second week of their incarceration, with no access to food, and no passports or identity papers. After escaping, they found safety through an association which partners with The Salvation Army. Despite assurances of anonymity, the fear of being identified and tracked down by their captors was too great for the pair to feel safe being interviewed. But let there be no mistake: trafficked people matter.
In the border town of Mae Sai, where the River Sai separates Thailand and Myanmar. The watercourse is prone to flooding, and with the rainy season due to begin any day, many premises are prepared with sandbags and other rudimentary defences. As we walk through a covered market, Major Tluanga indicates how far the flood waters rose last year – well over head height.
The challenges of migration are also prescient in Bangkok, Thailand’s always-on capital. Here, one of the newest churches is discovering how best to meet human needs while also nurturing Christian worship and discipleship.

Migrant fruit seller in Mae Sai
The Salvation Army’s first major disaster response in Thailand in October 2024 provided assistance to around 1,250 individuals with food, clean water and bedding. As Major Tluanga strolls through the market streets, many traders thank him for that help.
Last year, The Salvation Army hosted an ‘Emergency Services conference’ in Thailand, strengthening disaster-response capacity and building government partnerships. It’s not a quick fix – it’s preparation for the long haul. Flood survivors matter.
The challenges of migration are also prescient in Bangkok, Thailand’s always-on capital. Here, one of the newest churches is discovering how best to meet human needs while also nurturing Christian worship and discipleship. I joined Marcus Moo, Territorial Director of Social and Community Services, at a UNHCR Protection Working Group meeting. Despite The Salvation Army being the newcomer here, Marcus is drawing on the movement’s experience in other countries and presenting a white paper designed to advocate for improvements for access to statutory services for migrant workers.
Chairperson of the group, Ann Parnitudom generously makes time to meet with me. ‘We’re very happy that The Salvation Army is now a partner and involved in the work we do with this vulnerable population. As the new kid on the block … our partnership is quite new, but I think it’s a very good one. The Salvation Army joined in at a time where we really needed more partners. I think The Salvation Army has a lot of experience in this area in providing aid but also the openness to cover the refugee population – overlooked by many – and to also partake in advocacy work that we want Thai Civil Society to be engaged in, but also to address the Royal Thai government.’



From left: in Chiang Mai, Envoy Diane Parsons and Rachel Ng complete food parcel; distributing food aid to Afghan refugee (undisclosed location); Marcus Moo and Ann Parnitudom in Bangkok
It’s not just a talking shop. Working with the Bangkok Refugee Centre, The Salvation Army distributes food and non-food items to Somali and Afghan migrants – many undocumented, awaiting legal status.
At safe place, I meet Mohammed*, who shows me his temporary UNHCR ID card but shares that it has been extremely stressful to live ‘on the edge’ as he puts it. ‘I have three medical conditions,’ he says, wiping away a tear. ‘I can’t work legally. As a father that is so hard. These care packages are vital.’ Mohammed matters.
Sports ministry is also being used to good effect in the city, with a weekly football club on a refurbished pitch in Huay Khwang proving popular with young people from similarly challenging backgrounds. Lieutenant Don Pongprisan is wielding the referee’s whistle for the 5pm kick-off for a good-natured training session and hard-fought match. After the young people have worn themselves out, their dads can’t resist a kickaround too. One tells me: ‘I want to thank The Salvation Army Foundation for coming to help renovate our football pitch. It encourages our children to spend their time in meaningful ways and stay away from drugs, which is very important.’





Clockwise from top left: In Bangkok – Lieutenants Gabriel, Don and Nid; young people playing football; distributing food and snack packages after the match; sport ministry participants; football dads
The exercise concludes with snacks, a short devotional from Lieutenant Don, and a further distribution of care packs – just before the clouds burst and everyone runs for cover from the deluge. Young footballers matter!
Practical aid is vital, but the spiritual impact is deeper still. Some stories are life-or-death. One young woman from Kachin state in Myanmar who has come to the corps has received death threats for choosing to become a Christian. I’ll call her Yvette; her identity has been obscured.
‘Both my parents died when I was three,’ she tells me quietly. ‘My aunt raised me in a strict Muslim home. I prayed faithfully but felt something missing. Even as a child, I felt peaceful when Christian teachers prayed. Later, when my friend took me to church, my uncle became furious. He beat me and raped me. I became pregnant. My aunt sent me away for safety, then told me to leave Myanmar.’
Arriving in Thailand, Yvette worked odd jobs, alone and frightened. ‘A woman told me about The Salvation Army,’ she continues. ‘People told me, “If you have a problem, call on Jesus and he will help”. I was a devout Muslim, but in my pain, I prayed to Jesus for the first time, asking him to help me. I felt something powerful.’
‘At my first service here, everyone smiled and welcomed me. We prayed, ate, worshipped together. My heart was alive. Before, I lived in fear. Now I have hope, community, and a spiritual family.’
Church life gives me such joy. We worship, plan programmes, sometimes go out together. The Salvation Army supports me spiritually and practically.
From left: Sunday worship time in Chiang Mai corps (church); the worship band; the congregation in Chiang Rai
Yvette matters
Her close friend Neriah* from Pakistan also fled persecution. ‘A man demanded I convert to Islam and marry him,’ she said. ‘When I refused, he threatened to kill me. I escaped here.’
Though safe, she has no legal status or healthcare provision ‘When doctors suspected cancer, I couldn’t afford tests. Salvation Army members paid for them. Sister Rachel brought medicine. Last month, during another hospital stay, [church minister] Lieutenant Nid calmed me, and Lieutenant Don made sure I ate. To me, The Salvation Army is truly an army of Jesus – providing help without conditions.’
She smiles with inner poise. ‘Church life gives me such joy. We worship, plan programmes, sometimes go out together. The Salvation Army supports me spiritually and practically. Some churches only help their members. The Salvation Army simply helps those in need. To those who support The Salvation Army: you are giving to the right place. Your help reaches people who are truly needy. Thank you.’
Neriah matters
Over a final meal with Yvette, Neriah and their corps family, one word lingers in my mind – belonging. The Salvation Army in Thailand may be new, but it’s alive and active (see Hebrews 4:12). It doesn’t accept the status quo; it seeks life in all its fullness (John 10:10). It embraces people from every background, meeting needs with compassion and practical love.
Lieutenant Nid spoons more green curry onto my plate as we reflect. ‘Thailand needs The Salvation Army,’ she asserts. A pause. ‘Because Thailand needs Jesus.’
Unusually, mai bpen rai has no ‘positive’ form, but if it did, it might be this: Thailand matters. It certainly does to The Salvation Army.
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