Tag: Uttar Pradesh

  • In Riot-Hit Muzaffarnagar, a Beacon for Female Victims of Violence

    Photo: Usman Mehndi

    Published in The Wire. 21 June 2015

    Rehana Adeeb’s phone won’t stop ringing.  After answering a few calls, she switches off her mobile. “The calls will continue. We won’t be able to talk properly,” she explains.  We are in a nondescript building in Muzaffarnagar district, Western Uttar Pradesh. It functions as an office from where Rehana manages the operations of her NGO Astitva,  one of the few local organisations that worked with people affected by the communal riots of 2013 that broke out in Muzaffarnagar and Shamli districts.

    Several files are stacked against a wall with labels like ‘honour killing’, ‘rape’ and ‘domestic violence’ scrawled on the covers. Under Rehana’s guidance, her co-workers Rani, Usman and Gaurav take print-outs, type out emails, and place newspaper clippings in the files.

    The recent framing of charges of 4 accused in the Muzaffarnagar gangrape case that happened during the 2013 violence has thrown her work into sharp focus. Astitva has been involved in helping women with legal support in several rape cases that have been registered in the aftermath of the riots.

    “I was not always a worldly woman or a person with politics,” says Rehana. She says she had been raped as a child and later forced to drop out of school and married off well before she turned 18. The birth of five daughters in succession and the continued stigma attached to rape meant Rehana’s early years were anything but idyllic. In her late twenties, she strayed into a meeting of Disha, a local women’s rights organisation in Saharanpur in the year 1989.  “Wearing a burqa, with a baby in tow, I attended the meeting where people said women could speak against oppression, lodge an FIR with the police and that it is important not to be ashamed. They were singing revolutionary songs. I felt such tumult that sleep eluded me that night.”

    Rehana started attending Disha meetings, embarking on a journey of women’s rights activism. It wasn’t easy. Her efforts were met with beatings in the family and ostracisation by neighbours. Undeterred, she started working with abused women and the government-run Mahila Samakhya programme, and finally established an NGO, Astitva in 2005.  She set up an Astitva office in Muzaffarnagar because she felt the lack of an organisation working on women’s rights in an area which was rife with honour killing and violence against women in the Jat and Muslim communities.

    A climate of violence

    Rehana’s philosophy of working with oppressed women in small towns and villages led her to undertake peace-building work in the run-up to, and following, the Muzaffarnagar riots. “I knew women and children would be crushed in the riots for which the atmosphere was building up.  There were reports of people with beards being roughed up and pushed out of trains, of gun firing outside mosques. We had 8-10 dialogues on communal harmony in Muzaffarnagar, reaching over 2000 people, but these did not have much impact, because we were up against powerful political forces. The local NGOs were reluctant to get involved. Fear was in the air; the police and the army had been deployed, and news about dead bodies was pouring in.”

    As a local NGO, Astitva moved swiftly to visit the makeshift camps which emerged to accommodate riot struck families in Muzaffanagar and Shamli. Rehana informed activists and journalists about the desperate situation of the camps and their inhabitants, becoming a point of contact for all those seeking information, such as fact-finding committees and organisations looking to channel relief.  Her team worked with the district administration and panchayats, helped file FIRs for the raped women, trying to fast track their cases, and encouraging women to testify. “In western UP, particularly Muzaffarnagar, there is a tradition of killing witnesses. Therefore witnesses tend to change their stand or they are killed,” says Rehana.

    Women’s rights work in western UP is not easy, especially if it means opposing the writ of the khap and caste panchayats. The khap panchayat leaders represent a moneyed and landed class with large-scale ownership of sugarcane fields.  With family members in political parties such as Samajwadi Party and Bharatiya Janata Party, the police force, and the Bharatiya Kisan Union, their authority is difficult to contest. This, combined with frequent violence against women, a preference for guns and abuse over dialogue, and the lack of cultural spaces, greatly limits the possibility of human rights work.

    The history of khap panchayats dates to a period well before the Mughal and British rule and is a system which has endured. “Khap panchayat leaders have warned that if anyone attempts to break their authority, they will not be spared.  Even if NGOs are operational, their work revolves around distribution of medicines, and working with children and older people.  Nobody can challenge the khap panchayats.”

    No help for vulnerable minorities

    Credit: Usman Mehandi
    Photo: Urvashi Sarkar. Folders in which cases relating to domestic violence, sexual violence and rape, and honour killings are kept.

    She says that when there is natural disaster, help is readily available, because people feel they are saving human beings.  “But if there is communal rioting and violence in which Muslims or Dalits are affected, people not even counted as human beings, little support can be found. The same sentiment prevails when women are affected – people avoid getting involved.” While Rehana and Astitva cannot afford to confront the khaps and have to skirt around them, they do speak up when women are wronged.

    Rehana’s work is subject to frequent threats and hounding.  “An anonymous caller threatened to disfigure my face. Earlier, our premises were in a Jat locality. One day, 15-20 Jats gathered outside and ordered me to vacate, claiming Muslims cannot live there. When I shifted to a Muslim neighbourhood, I was told that not wearing a burqa was unacceptable. ”

    She faced threats while working on a case in 2005, in which Imrana, a woman from Muzaffarnagar, was allegedly raped by her father-in-law. Rehana was also beaten up by the police for taking to the streets along with other women in support of former Deoband chairperson Zeenat Naz who battled a fatwa against Muslim women participating in elections.

    In addition to being pressed for funds, she finds little support for her work from the district administration and police: “You expect them to stand up against women’s oppression. But that rarely happens.” According to National Crime Records Bureau data of 2013, Uttar Pradesh registered 3050 cases of rape, ranking fourth in the category. It also recorded maximum instances of kidnapping and abduction, and dowry deaths. But many cases remain unreported.

    For Rehana, the Muzaffarnagar riots were a planned conspiracy. She says: “The Jat-Muslim alliance is broken, fear prevents many Muslim families from returning to their villages. The atmosphere continues to be communalised, and the newspapers are calling it a silent war on Muslims. People lost, and political parties won.”

    Read the original article: https://thewire.in/gender/in-riot-hit-muzaffarnagar-an-ngo-focuses-on-female-victims-of-violence

  • The displaced of Muzaffarnagar

    Article published in DNA. 21 January 2014

    Don’t mention the word cancer,” cautions Liaqat Sheikh as he leads the way to a small tent in Joula camp where his wife Bina is bedridden. It is pitch dark inside. There is electricity only at night. Bina lies tucked under blankets, and struggles to sit up, her face gaunt. Though her family has kept the tent clean, the surrounding squalor and dirt of the camp defeat the purpose.

    “The doctors suspect cancer. This can only be confirmed after tests are done in Delhi,” says Liaqat, who belongs to Hasanpur village. Liaqat fled with his family, including six children, during the Muzaffarnagar riots of September 2013 and found refuge at a camp in Joula in Muzaffarnagar.

    Bina requires proper medical care, but Liaqat is unable to proceed with treatment since he has lost his source of livelihood. The family sold their buffalo for her diagnosis which cost them Rs35,000-40,000. Doctors have asked them to shift Bina to a hospitals in Dehradun or Chandigarh, where the cost of treatment is beyond their reach. “My house was burnt down. I have incurred losses worth Rs4-5 lakh. The expenses for my wife’s treatment have so far come from my brothers, loans on interest and imdad (relief),” says Liaqat, his tone a mix of resignation and anger. Compensation is remote since the Uttar Pradesh government has not yet recognised Hasanpur village as riot-affected, though it is part of the Lisadhi gram panchayat, which was recognized as riot-hit.

    Liaqat’s plight is not a stray affair. There is misery all around in the camp. According to Ghulam Mohammed Joula of the Bharatiya Kisan Mazdoor Manch, 90,000 to 1 lakh people were rendered without livelihoods following the riots. “They have lost their homes and jobs and are surviving on aid. People were initially engaged as labourers, drivers and carpenters, but now they have no source of income.” Poverty has induced existing illnesses to fester and encouraged fresh ones to take root.

    Close to Bina’s tent, lives Afsana who suffers from tuberculosis and visits Mehrauli every fortnight to receive treatment. Neither she nor her husband have any source of income. There is also Mohammed Qasim, worried about his nine-year-old son Umar. While rolling up the boy’s sleeves, Qasim draws attention to a bone jutting out, which must be set. “His hand was plastered but it didn’t help.”

    Thirty five-year-old Sanjeeda, mother of four, has been suffering from a staggering range of illnesses, including tuberculosis, jaundice and typhoid. She has lost all but her voice and even then struggles to speak. Her husband earns Rs300 a day, which is spent for her treatment.

    Nasima, who lost her son in the wake of the riots has been experiencing fits, but her husband Raisuddin cannot afford her treatment. Mohammed Salim’s wife Husno suffers from nerve blockage after an operation. Akhleem’s daughter Najma has developed a septic condition after giving birth.

    Government doctors occasionally visit Joula on request. According to Askari Naqvi, a lawyer with  the Joint Citizen’s Initiative, though the state government has been involved in some relief work, when it comes to health care, its track record has been dismal. “There is little in terms of health infrastructure. The health sub-centre at Loi has a bunch of incompetent staff. The camps aren’t prepared to deal with pregnant and lactating women and newborns. It is mostly the NGOs who got doctors to the camp.” Askari has also written to UP Chief Secretary Jawed Usmani with the details of 140 ailing people, but, hasn’t received any response. Askari recalls instances when ambulance drivers had to be begged to carry the sick, and government doctors who visited camps in vehicles, chose to stay inside the vehicles and asked people to come to them instead.

    Muzaffarnagar District Magistrate Kaushal Raj Sharma said the state government funded Bina’s — the woman suspected with cancer — initial tests. “We also paid for another woman’s operation. At Loi, we have opened a permanent health sub-centre where people from Joula visit.

    The Samajwadi Party government is providing relief not only in camps, but also for those scattered in villages.” When asked about the dismantling of the camps, he claimed that no camp had been forcibly shut. “We merely want people to move out of the open to safer closed spaces.”

    According to the UP government, many individuals lodged in camps were not riot-affected but came seeking free land and doles. But talk to the people of villages like Hasanpur, and they recall the horrors of September, which forced them to flee.

    A pregnant Gulshana lost her twin babies in the riots. She is from Karonda Mahajan which lies between Lakh and Phugana villages — the last two were declared as riot-affected but Karonda Mahajan was not. Her father Mohammad Isaq says that though their property is intact, they are scared to return. “My daughter was hit and fell to the ground. We heard screams and gunshots.

    How can we return?”

    The state is yet to grant compensation to villagers from Karonda Mahajan, Hasanpur, Kuraba, Dulhaira, Kheri-Patti, Dhindhavli, Kinoni, Haroli, Bhajju, Bhaura-Kalan and several others who had suffered during the riots. Only nine villages from Muzaffarnagar and Shamli districts have been identified for compensation. In cases where the victim received compensation of Rs5 lakh, a substantial chunk has gone into buying land for building homes. The precious little that remained is being spent on survival. Additionally, they are required to forsake the right to return to their villages.

    A visit to Kandhla, Malakpur and Joula camps reveals that some relief had reached through civil society’s efforts. The victims, at least, had a single layer (though flimsy) of warm clothing. They are grateful for the clothes and food but mention the need for housing. At Malakpur camp, brick structures have emerged, though most people still continue to live in tents. One also sees goats and bullocks. This was not the case in September when, after the riots broke out, these camps witnessed poverty and starvation. Imran Mohammed of Malakpur camp has opened a small provisions store where he sells sweets. A few have started selling vegetables. At Kandhla camp, Nafedi Babu says that he has sent two sons to Haryana to work in the garments business. But men finding work are exceptions. The displaced of Muzaffarnagar are grappling with issues that determine their survival — health, livelihood and homes, even as the SP looks the other way.

    Read the original article: https://www.dnaindia.com/analysis/column-the-displaced-of-muzaffarnagar-1954459

  • Fear in Muzaffarnagar camps: We won’t go back, they will burn us

    File photograph of paramilitary forces in Muzaffarnagar after the riots. AP

    Published in Firstpost. 15 November 2013

    Not far from Delhi, the nondescript interiors of Malakpur village in western Uttar Pradesh’s Shamli district present an unusual sight— countless rows of small, coloured plastic tents have been hoisted on a dirt ground, stretching as far as the eye can see.

    Small piles of litter dot the periphery. Scrawny children play in the dirt, while their mothers sit in the tents. Some of the women are pregnant.  The men idle around in groups. A slightly larger tent has been erected where two men administer the distribution of medicines.

    This was the scene at a Malakpur camp in Muzaffarnagar in early October. This camp was initially home to around 5,000 people, mostly Muslims, who lost their homes in the wake of the September 7 Muzaffarnagar violence which left three young men dead—two Jats and a Muslim, and displaced around 50,000 almost instantly. Over 40 people lost their lives in the violence which continues to simmer.

    There were 17 camps in Shamli district, of which five are remaining with about 4,000-5,000 people. According to Rahana Adib, an activist with Astitva Samajik Sanstha, who has worked in Muzaffarnagar for nearly a decade, the situation in these camps has further deteriorated. “People are falling increasingly sick. The nearest hospitals in Muzaffarnagar , 35-40 km away, are overcrowded, with two persons to a bed in some cases. In one instance, a woman had to give birth in a camp since she could not reach the hospital. When it rained recently, the tents could not provide much protection.  Children are still out of school. A number of small children were also recently married off. How can the situation be any better?” she says on the phone.

    Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister, Akhilesh Singh Yadav recently announced compensation of Rs. 10 lakh to the next of kin of those who were killed, and Rs. 5 lakh each to displaced families. If government authorities are to be believed, many of those who are lodged in camps have not impacted by the violence. Compensation is being given only to those who were displaced from Lisar, Bhawari and Lak villages. “Not even one-third of the people in the camps have been impacted by the riots,” said Shamli District Magistrate PK Singh.

    The land on which the Malakpur camp is located belongs to the forest department. According to Singh, rumours were spread that that free land parcels were being distributed at Malakpur.

    The DM also alleged that local Muslims leaders were responsible for spreading these rumors, inducing people to leave. “We tried hard to stop them from coming. Many of those in the camps are landless and poor labourers.”

    PK Singh claimed that many of them have returned to their villages. “Jats and Muslims have not turned enemies overnight. They were living together peacefully since a long time.”

    Media accounts have similarly painted a rosy picture of Muzaffarnagar’s Jat-Muslim relations prior to the violence. But locals in Muzaffarnagar note that it has long been witness to instances of murder, robbery, eloping and violence, often among the two communities. In Muzaffarnagar, Jats are the main land-holders, and the Muslims are labourers, though some Muslims also possess small land holdings.  Locals say that these issues were not played up communally, until recently, and piece together a narrative involving a bid by the BJP to lay stake to power in Uttar Pradesh and efforts by a local BJP MLA Hukum Singh to fan discontent against the minorities.

    Further, civil society teams which have been visiting the camps of the displaced have found that the mood on the ground was strongly against any return to the villages. For instance, a group of displaced Muslim women from Lisar village in Kandhla camp asserted that return was impossible since they feared for their lives. “They (the Jats) burnt our houses, next they will burn us,” said a pregnant Shabana whose house was burnt down.  The women either wanted land in the city, or if at all have to live in villages, want to stay in Muslim majority areas.

    The Muzaffarnagar District Magistrate Kaushal Raj Sharma said that barring nine villages that had faced the brunt of the violence, people were leaving the camps to stay with relatives or are buying land and building houses with the compensation they have been given. In Muzaffarnagar, government jobs are also being given to families which lost a member in the violence.

    Though the government is engaged in aid and relief work and is trying to give an impression that it is facilitating the exit of people from the camps to resume their lives, the administrative apathy is visible. Three-year-old Nargis, who when we met her at Kandhla camp, was unable to walk because of malnutrition. The small camp dispensary where we saw her was attended by a young man who insisted that the mother to go to a big hospital, obtain a ‘sunvai’ and then get medicines and treatment.

    The exact origins of the Muzaffarnagar violence are hard to pin down, but the sense that emerges was that an isolated incident— a skirmish, was given communal overtones for narrow political gains. It was the Muslim community which received the heaviest blow, caught unawares by an engineered violence, which ripped through the already tenuous social fabric which constitutes Muzaffarnagar society.

    Read the original article: https://www.firstpost.com/politics/fear-in-muzaffarnagar-camps-we-wont-go-back-they-will-burn-us-1218959.html

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