The wounds of civilisation

WHEN Fatima (not her real name) went to celebrate Id at her mother's house in Randhikpur village, Patan district, she never imagined she would end up in a relief camp in Godhra, her life shattered. Fatima fled the village with a group of 35 people after their houses were set on fire by a mob. "We did not know where to go. For three days we walked from village to village asking for protection. We stayed one night in a masjid, another in an Adivasi's house. By then our number had dwindled to nine," says Fatima.

As they walked to the next village in search of shelter, they were ambushed by a group of men from Randhikpur, most of whom Fatima says she can identify. They stopped their cars, raped the women and killed all of them except Fatima. After regaining consciousness Fatima lay on the road for almost 24 hours, pretending to be dead. She was finally rescued by the police and taken to a school in Godhra where Muslim charities are running a relief camp.

Relief camps have emerged as the only shelter for the thousands who have escaped death. However, the journey both to and out of the camps is very difficult for the riot-affected people. In rural Gujarat, many people fled their homes and hid in the hills and jungles for days without food or water before being rescued by the police. "We ate leaves," said Sapura Ghachi, who hid with her husband and daughter on a hill for three days. Her husband was taken to the Godhra general hospital for treatment. Since the camps are situated in towns, far from villages, hardly anyone knows about them. Moreover, people cannot reach them unless they are escorted by the police.

Camps situated in Ahmedabad's slums are far more accessible. People have sought shelter in local masjids and schools. Hundreds of people are packed into a small school building or a tent. At Pir Kasamshak ki Roza in Ahmedabad's Gomatipura area, several Muslims actually live in a graveyard. "We have no other security. When bullets start flying, we rush here. There was a camp set up here during the 1985, 1990 and 1992 riots as well," says Munni Bibi Rasul, whose son was killed in police firing on February 28.

Muslim charities, pooling contributions, from within the community, have set up these camps. Neither the government nor non-governmental organisations (NGOs) have taken any such initiative. The State government announced a compensation of Rs.1 lakh to the families of those killed in the riots, as compared to Rs.2 lakhs for the families of those killed in the Sabarmati Express attack, a telling instance of the ruling party's prejudice. The morsels of relief that the government is handing out were also delayed. The Collector's offices started supplying provisions to the camps one week after the violence began.

The surge of sympathy, the flow of relief in cash and kind and the active presence of NGOs that were evident in Kutch in the wake of the earthquake in January 2001 are missing in the case of the riot victims. However, a group of 20 NGOs in Ahmedabad, under the umbrella of the Citizen's Initiative, was quick to start coordinating help and supplies although their volunteers were initially threatened by local goons. "It is more difficult to work in this situation than it was in Kutch. This was planned ethnic-cleansing. There are people who want to make sure that help does not reach the needy," one of the volunteers said. Moreover, the stakes are not high enough. Foreign aid is not coming the way it did after the earthquake.

Muslim charities, which always managed to mobilise resources during riots, are finding it difficult to do so this time, since even middle class Muslims have been destroyed economically. They are somehow able to provide basic services at the relief camps. The NGOs' coordination group has begun nursing and counselling services. The need for such services is very much in evidence, as in Fatima's case. She was prompted to speak to the media about being gang-raped. It was only when the men among the mediapersons were asked to leave that she felt comfortable to speak. Moreover, she was made to narrate her horrific story twice or thrice a day, depending on how many people came to interview her.

While medical facilities are basic - confined to check-ups by volunteer doctors and nurses - the refugees are afraid to be taken to hospitals. "Many pregnant women refuse to be taken to hospital," says Fr. Victor Moses, who is coordinating the Citizen's Initiative. He is also concerned about the conditions at the camps. With 800 to 900 people sharing a few toilets, sanitation is impossible to maintain.

At one camp, security is a problem. Eye-witnesses who can identify prominent leaders in the mobs that were on the rampage are being targeted. The Sangh Parivar, which was blatantly aggressive during the first few days of the violence, has now realised that the law still exists. It has hired a legal team to defend its activists.

Ironically, the law-enforcers are also scared to escort trucks into the relief camps. "People are angry with us. They feel that we were part of the attackers. They could do anything when we enter the area," said a policeman who was part of the escort team. Added a relief volunteer: "When we are on the streets transporting supplies, they protect us. But when we are in the relief camps, the police keep asking us to make sure they are safe." Several Hindus living in Muslim-dominated areas have also sought shelter in camps. However, it may be easier for them to go back to their homes, since they will not be under threat.

Muslim refugees, not wishing to risk their lives, are too scared to venture beyond the camps, although they are desperate to know about the condition of their shops or other sources of livelihood.

Yet life in the rest of Ahmedabad goes on. With the curfew lifted, the streets are buzzing with traffic. Normal life is slowly returning to the city, although several businesses have been destroyed.

Long-term rehabilitation is still a problem the charitable organisations are trying to grapple with. It remains uncertain how the 60,000-odd refugees housed in Ahmedabad's relief camps and the thousands of others stranded in camps in rural areas will restart their life.