[Reader-list] Remembering Gujrat - III

[ravikant]

JUSTICE FOR ALL- A MOTHER'S QUEST FOR JUSTICE 

by Navaz Kotwal - navaz at humanrightsinitiative.org



Medina wants justice. That's all. She lived for her children now they are 
dead. It is painful for her to tell her story again and again: to the police; 
to the court, to the good people who visited her, but she will do it. There 
is nothing else to live for. Two months ago, in November 2002,  in court, 
Medina told her story again. 
"My daughter Shabana was only seventeen, we were to get her married next year. 
Those men -- all our neighbours and ‘friends -- caught hold of her and flung 
her around. I heard my daughters' screams begging them to get off her. But 
instead they continued raping her one after the other. They cut off her 
breasts. My niece Suhana and sister in law Rukaiyya were also raped. They 
hacked my old in laws to death. They killed seven members of my family.  
Taufique was only 18 months old. They sliced off his thumb. They gathered all 
the bodies -- piled wood and dry leaves on them and set them on fire. Then 
they left. Suddenly there was silence. It was all over. Right before my eyes 
I lost those very people who I lived for. The 2nd of March 2002. And life 
will never be the same again.“ 
An eerie silence prevailed as I heard a mother's account of her daughters' 
rape. I sat with her, weeping silently. I held her close to my body and felt 
the gasping, uneven, wheezing anguish of her heart. That was all I had to 
offer; what consolation could I give her. And how do I promise her justice?  
Medina lived all her life in Eral village in Panchmahals Gujarat. Eral is a 
tiny village surrounded by jungles and hills. A dirt road connects Eral to 
the outside world. Among the 4000 odd residents, about 250 were Muslims, who 
earned their living through farming and petty business. Medina's family was 
one such amongst the many. Bounded by a family of eleven, looking after the 
house and the needs of the family members was what she did all day. Medina 
knew nothing of Godhra and nothing of the arson of the train that killed 
Hindus. But if she had, she would have prayed for their souls and damned 
their killers to hell.  
Since March 2002 Medina has been a refugee in her own land. For months she's 
lived in relief camps. In all these months of pain, passing those long hours 
with pictures of her children in mind, thinking why death forgot her, Medina 
has at least won one small victory. Unlike most of her camp mates, she has 
managed to get her First Information Report registered. She identified all 
those who raped her children and murdered them. She named seven of them in 
her report to the police.  
The police have investigated the case and filed the charge sheet. The case is 
up for hearing. A few arrests have been made but most of those named are said 
to be ‘ absconding'. But Medina sees them roaming free in the village. They 
continue to threaten and intimidate the witnesses. According to the law the 
term ‘absconded' is not to be understood as implying necessarily that a 
person leaves the place in which he is. It is etymological and its ordinary 
sense is to hide or conceal oneself. But in this case the ‘absconding' are 
making no attempt to even hide. They are living in the village, free to do as 
they please and yet are treated as absconding. 
There are 32 other witnesses in the case. They were small farmers and 
shopkeepers. Most have lost everything and have themselves just returned from 
camps. As for Medina she cannot even return to what was once her home. The 
rapists and murderers demand that her return will be conditional. 
Intermediaries have contacted her to bargain. She will be allowed to return 
only if she drops all charges and withdraws her complaint. Medina is scared. 
The police refuse to help. There is no one to guarantee her safety.  
The case has come up for hearing thrice. Each time the judge insists that all 
32 witnesses come to court. The prosecutor does not resist the order or seek 
to have just a few witnesses examined at a time. If every witness were to 
take only a half hour to be examined, cross-examined and reexamined it would 
take 16 hours of hearings and all in one day!  Everyone knows that the 
cross-examination will not take place in one day but they have to obey the 
magistrate. All the witnesses come. The court is 60-70 kms away from the 
village. For safety the witnesses travel together in a bus.  Most of them are 
men. The women, who are left behind, feel scared and vulnerable in the 
village and so, they have to be transported to the nearest camp to await the 
night journey home together with their menfolk. The Magistrate is aware of 
the situation. In our land extraordinary circumstances can only be invoked 
for extraordinary people and the rest must suffer.  
On the 12th of October 2002, the day of the first hearing, just 3 witnesses 
were heard. The courtroom was packed with villagers and cadres of a semi 
political outfit. The questioning of the witnesses bordered on the ridiculous 
– it was insensitive, crude, and patronising. All three witnesses broke down 
at having to relive the trauma of the 2nd of March. The issue was rape. 
People thumped each other's back in unashamed glee; stray words from the 
murmur of the audience reiterated my belief in the pathological nature of a 
fanatically patriarchal society. There were smirks and laughter in the 
courtroom. No one objected from the prosecution side. No one intervened from 
the bench. The audience was not warned, nor was the court cleared. Outside 
this sanctuary of justice, the other 29 witnesses waited nervously for their 
turn. It did not come. The exercise was to be repeated on the next hearing.  
All 32 have again been ordered to appear on the 25th of October-the day of 
next hearing. Once again they appeared obediently. The situation was not much 
different. This time only one witness was heard. The rest waited outside. The 
next date was given for the 12th of November, the presence of all the 
witnesses being mandatory. This time no one was heard. The case was 
adjourned. After a long journey witnesses returned home…some frustrated, some 
dejected and some without any hope. 
Written submissions have been made to the court to take notice of the 
‘absconding accused' and the constant threats to the witnesses. Not much has 
happened in the case since then. No arrests have been made. The accused still 
roam fearlessly as the free citizens of Indian Republic and the witnesses 
lead unpredictable lives. 
Outside the court Medina and the witnesses live in fear. They are constantly 
approached by brokers of justice to withdraw their testimony. Medina has been 
offered money to give up the fight.  She has been threatened that she will 
never be able to return home otherwise. Other witnesses are tempted by the 
money and the need to get on with their lives. This process of getting 
justice is sapping their resolve. They know that court proceeding will last 
for years on end. Unsure of the ability to survive each day, the courage to 
force the judicial system to respond seems too much to ask for. 
All Medina wants is justice. A mother wants justice. She wants the accused 
punished so that they are not free to go out and rape other girls and burn 
them alive. Her message is loud and clear-- you cannot kill and rape and maim 
and go unpunished. This is wrong according to every book of religion. She is 
willing to fight her children's killers, but she didn't know she would have 
to fight the system. She is learning. She says she will struggle. She will 
knock and knock till someone hears and some official conscience stirs into 
action. This is yet to happen.  
Gujarat has become a cold news item and has ceased to merit the attention of 
the vast newspaper reading classes. Medina's voice will soon have no 
listeners. Her story and struggle will soon be buried in the thousands of 
reports on the killings of that time. I hate to be pessimistic but impunity 
rules. The law just never seems to catch up.