India: Raped tribal women betrayed & abandoned by National Human Rights Commission Print E-mail
 Magazine, Vol 6, Issue 28, July 18, 2009

The Evil That Men Do

Tribal women claiming rape by Salwa Judum men in Chhattisgarh put a question mark on the NHRC, which rejected their testimonies.


By AJIT SAHI Editor-at-Large

Assaulted Raped Women turned away by the NHRC seek justice

In the Indian setting, refusal to act on the testimony of the victim of sexual assault in the absence of corroboration as a rule is adding insult to injury. A girl or a woman in the tradition- bound non-permissive society of India would be extremely reluctant even to admit that any incident that is likely to reflect on her chastity had ever occurred… [A rape victim’s testimony] does not require corroboration from any other evidence, including the evidence of a doctor. ­ Supreme Court justices Arijit Pasayat and P Sathasivam, July 2008

FOR DECADES, the Supreme Court of India has cleaved to a rigorous legal standard in cases of rape: the testimony of the victim is enough evidence to launch the prosecution of the accused. Successive judgments over the years have reinforced this position. Thousands of convictions of alleged rapists have been effectively obtained on the basis of victims’ testimonies, with no corroborative evidence sought or offered. Often, the courts have overlooked minor discrepancies in the victims’ accounts, if the main narrative holds up.

Jurists and social commentators in India have long argued that, apart from being a most heinous crime against a woman’s person, her rape doubly curses her in the Indian society by imparting her a stigma that no other crime matches. That is why criminal investigation processes that the police must follow, as well as the judicial procedures prescribed when charges of rape arise, are unambiguous. This is best illustrated in the case of Hindi film actor Shiney Ahuja, who was arrested last month in Mumbai when his maidservant accused him of raping her. Ahuja has been denied bail, and rightly so, for his right to seek justice shall arise at the trial and not before or outside it.
What happens when the victims are destitute tribal women with no access to police, judiciary, media?

But what happens when rape becomes a brutal tool of class oppression in a wider social, political and economic war that men wage against one another, the raped women merely the pawns on their chessboard, the act of rape itself a side story, a cold-blooded strategy to terrorise an entire population into submission? What happens when the victims of rape are some of India’s most destitute tribal women, who live in virtually unreachable forests in subhuman conditions; who have absolutely zero access to the police, the judiciary, the media; whose verdant lands the mighty industrialists covet because they hold in their womb some of India’s richest mineral resources?

What happens when those accused of rape are the hired guns of a dubious state-backed militia that is the frontline in one of the world’s most brutal civil wars? What happens when the Indian State pivots this war against deeply entrenched Maoist insurgents on a take-no-prisoners approach, because unless the Maoists are killed off and millions of tribal people removed from their forests, hills and fields, corporate India won’t be able to claim the bounties of their lands? What happens when it is abundantly clear that accepting the charges of rape from such women would be very dangerous indeed because that step just might begin to unravel this barbaric anti-people militia, bringing an end to its unchecked reign of terror?

THIS IS the heartrending story of Chhattisgarh, and all the above questions have only one answer: the Indian State cannot afford to honestly investigate these women’s charges of rape and secure them justice. Therefore, it must be forced to do so. In the following pages, readers of TEHELKA will find graphic gut-wrenching testimonies of some tribal women of Chhattisgarh describing how they were brutalised by the men of the Salwa Judum, the tribal militia that the state government sponsored four years ago and has since terrorised tens of thousands of innocent tribal people, burning their houses down, forcing them to abandon their villages where they had lived for generations, to move into squalid government- controlled “camps”.

We traveled deep in the state’s highly forested southern region known as Bastar, and located six women who were raped by the men of the Salwa Judum [literally, peace movement]. We also spoke to one man who saw his sister raped and then found her killed; their father, too, was killed then. The women and the man we met voluntarily gave their testimonies to us, which we have recorded on tape. Most rapes pertain to the period following the setting up of the Salwa Judum in 2005.

But the most disturbing part of this story came last year when the Supreme Court asked the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) to go to Chhattisgarh and investigate the charges of murder, rape, pillage and arson brought against those men of the Salwa Judum who have been hired and armed by the state police as Special Police Officers (SPOs). The report that an NHRC ‘fact-finding’ team wrote is deeply troubling in that it blindly toes the police and government line.

The NHRC report is deeply troubling as it blindly toes the police version. It absolves the accused, too

Created by Parliament in 1993 as an autonomous statutory human rights watchdog, the NHRC has long pretended to be the champion of the underdog. Log on to its website today, and you will be justified to feel a gush of relief at the rather selfcongratulatory headlines about jobs well done – “NHRC takes suo moto cognisance of the alleged fake encounter in Uttarakhand and recommends CBI inquiry”; “NHRC takes the railways police IG to task as cops throw pregnant woman from moving train”; “NHRC orders the payment of three lakh rupees monetary relief in a case of death in police custody”.

And yet, the NHRC refused to accept the testimonies of these tribal women of Chhattisgarh that unequivocally detail how SPOs brutally raped them. Instead of making the legally and morally sound recommendation that the state government launch the prosecution of the accused, the NHRC wrote: “During the enquiry of some specific allegations, the enquiry team also did not come across any case of rape which could be substantiated.” Shockingly, the NHRC happily absolved the accused too: “The allegations of rapes levelled against the SPOs and security forces were not substantiated during the enquiry.”

The most stunning fact, of course, is the NHRC’s rejection of the testimonies of five women from a single village – Pottenar in Bijapur district – who deposed before it. Says the report: “The matter was personally enquired from each of the five girls by a lady IPS officer of the team. During the enquiry, it was observed that there were many inconsistencies in the versions of alleged victims, in the petitions given by them, as well as in the statements of the alleged victims. These inconsistencies were with regard to the number of rape victims, number of SPOs who took them away from the camp, number of SPOs who actually committed the act and their identity and the accompanying circumstances.”

Shockingly, the report goes on to say: “All the victims stated that none of them reported this matter to their parents or relatives or anyone else in the camp or to the police.” Because the women raped by policemen did not report the rape to the police, their testimonies are suspect?

So just when did the NHRC convert itself into a trial court? Just when did it become the job of the NHRC to summarily dismiss, without proper investigation, the charges of rape directly brought forward by the alleged victims of that crime?

The chicanery at the NHRC began as it formed the investigative team. Acting on a lawsuit from activist-lawyer Nandini Sundar against the Salwa Judum, the Supreme Court said: “…We feel that in view of the serious allegations relating to violation of human rights by Naxalites and Salwa Judum and the living conditions in the refugee settlement colonies, it will be appropriate if the NHRC examines/verifies these allegations... We leave it to the NHRC to appoint an appropriate fact-finding Committee with such members as it deems fit...” The NHRC was asked to probe charges also against Salwa Judum. But it spoke mostly to Judum supporters

So what did the NHRC do? To investigate charges of rape against Special Police Officers who are fully backed by the state police and the government, the NHRC decided to send a 16- member team ­ made up of exclusively policemen and women! This included three IPS officers, four Deputy Superintendents of Police, seven inspectors and one constable. Just why would the country’s premier human rights watchdog not include even one well-respected independent social activist in its fact-finding team? (The team head, former DIG Sudhir Chowdhary, refused to talk about this. “I have nothing to add to what is already in the report,” he told TEHELKA.)

IRONICALLY, THE NHRC investigation in Chhattisgarh was launched at the behest of complainants Nandini Sundar and others, because they claimed that the Salwa Judum was brutalising innocent tribal people of Chhattisgarh. Yet, an overwhelming part of the NHRC report is based on the testimonies of people inside the Salwa Judum camps – all, therefore, predictably speaking in support of the Salwa Judum. An overwhelming number of documents and conversations relied upon are with the state police – whose very conduct the team had gone to investigate. The police and/or other security agencies accompanied the NHRC team’s “independent” visits to the villages to investigate allegations of police excesses. The petitioners complained that, once, after the NHRC enquiry team had visited a village, “the Salwa Judum leaders subsequently went there and issued death threats…” So how did the NHRC investigate this complaint? It sought a report from the state’s Director-General of Police!

In fact, the entire NHRC report reads like a primary school textbook that pares down everything to a simple black-andwhite narrative, the Salwa Judum overwhelmingly white – and hardly guilty of any excesses, absolved of all charges of rape and murder – and the Naxals the blackest of the blacks, the grossest violators of human rights. The 16-member NHRC team toured the region a total of only two weeks. But its report reads like a sociological treatise waxing eloquent on the history of the Naxal movement, offering innumerable sweeping statements without any piece of evidence that they may have collected during their two-week investigations.

Shockingly, the NHRC report says: “From the interaction with the villagers it also appears that many of the tribal girls were sexually exploited by the Naxalites.” And yet, the NHRC did not move to document the testimonies of such girls.

At least one of the petitioners, former CPIMLA Manish Kunjum, says the NHRC report quotes him wrongly that he “admitted during interaction with the enquiry team that the policies followed by the Naxalites were responsible for the spontaneous outburst of the tribals”. “I never said anything of this sort,” Kunjam told TEHELKA. “They are exaggerating my view.”

All is not lost, though. On June 16, 2009, some of these victims saw a glimmer of hope as Amrit Kerkatta, a local judicial magistrate in a Dantewada sub-district, began recording the testimonies of six rape victims after receiving their petitions. On July 3, he heard six witnesses, one for each of the victims. The judge has now fixed the next hearing for July 17.

Sudha Bharadwaj, a lawyer at the Bilaspur High Court in Chhattisgarh who is representing these women, told TEHELKA: “The magistrate has taken the longest possible route to make doubly sure that the testimonies of the women are on record. It is now up to him to prepare the charge-sheet ­ which the police should have done in the normal course ­ and commit the case to trial.”

If indeed the accused are finally tried on the basis of the testimonies of the raped women, then the lawyers representing the victims will certainly press these words of Supreme Court justices Pasayat and Sathasivam:

“It is an irony that while we are celebrating woman’s rights in all spheres, we show little or no concern for her honour. It is a sad reflection on the attitude of indifference of society towards the violation of human dignity of the victims of sex crimes. The socio-economic status, religion, race, caste or creed of the accused or the victim are irrelevant considerations in the sentencing policy. Protection of society and deterring the criminal are the avowed objects of law and that is required to be achieved by imposing appropriate sentence.

“We must remember that a rapist not only violates the victim’s privacy and personal integrity but inevitably causes serious psychological as well as physical harm. Rape is not merely a physical assault ­ it is often destructive of the whole personality of the victim. A murderer destroys the body of his victim, a rapist degrades the very soul of the helpless female.

“A prosecutrix of a sex offence cannot be put on par with an accomplice. She is in fact a victim of the crime... What is necessary is that the court must be conscious of the fact that it is dealing with the evidence of a person who is interested in the outcome of the charge levelled by her.”


 Magazine, Vol 6, Issue 28, July 18, 2009 special report

The Rape testimonies

For weeks after they raped us the Salwa Judum men freely roamed our camp while we hid ourselves’

Around 20 years old, married with daughter


Munna Telga and Dinesh Kunjam

THE FOLLOWING is the account of my rape that I gave the questioners from the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC):

I was raped along with probably 10 other girls. At the time, we were all residents of the Salwa Judum camp, next to the police station. Our rapists were SPOs who lived at the police station. Some lived even inside our camp. The distance between the police station and the camp was about 10-15 metres.

One night, some SPOs came to our houses in the camp at dinnertime and asked us girls to come out with them. They had guns. We didn’t go. The men were in full uniform at that time.

Later, at about 10pm, when we had just gone to sleep after dinner, a number of SPOs entered the camp again and woke us up at our houses. Now they were wearing only half pants and vests, which is the regular SPO gear at nights.

“Come with us,” they said. “We have to question you.” I was home sleeping with my father, mother and sister. Outside, I saw they had collected the other girls, too. My father came out of the hut and asked them, “Where are you taking her at night?” My mother said: “Why are you taking these girls? We will follow you.”

The SPOs said, “Don’t worry. We won’t do anything to the girls. But if you follow us, we will kill you.”

The SPOs then took us to the forests just outside the camp. Some marched ahead and some behind us. The girls cowered in the middle. It was a dark night and we walked some distance. All the girls started crying. We all thought they were going to kill us.

We kept asking the SPOs, “Where are you taking us at night? What have we done?” Some boys from our camp were following us. The SPOs caned them and said, “Go back. The girls will come back in a while.”

There, by the roadside, they raped all of us girls, next to each other.

A man disrobed me. I begged him: “Please don’t do this. You aren’t my husband or anything.” But he raped me. He was totally drunk.

I could hear the other girls wailing, “Oh, mother…” I also screamed: “Oh God! He is killing me.” After this man raped me, he said: “Go back now. Don’t even dare tell anyone that I have raped you.” I somehow wore my clothes and started running back to the camp.

But another man caught me and asked: “Where are you off to?” I cried: “I have fever. Please let me go.”

He held me by the hand. I couldn’t free myself. He took me back to the roadside. For the second time, I was disrobed. He, too, raped me.

Then all the men were done with all us girls. The girls got together and somehow ran back home. The men, too, returned to their rooms. I wept before my parents. I told them that the SPOs beat us up. I was too ashamed to tell them that I had been raped.

But the next day, our village people asked us if we were raped the previous night. We had to admit that we indeed were. All the rape victims were all unmarried then. The villagers didn’t do anything.

I bled a lot at being raped. For three months, I was bedridden. I got my periods three months after the rape. For three months I had fever. For three months I bled.

I know the men who raped me. One is named Munna. His caste name is Telga. The other man is named Dinesh Kunjam. I had known them long, though I had never talked to either of them.

After these men raped us girls, they freely moved around the camp for weeks. We were so ashamed of what had happened that we stopped stepping out of our homes. I stayed at the camp another month, then our family moved back to the village.

In June 2008, I deposed before the NHRC. I was pregnant at the time. I now have a five-month-old daughter.

I was taken from my village to the Dantewada town to depose. There were two people in the room. One asked me questions and wrote my answers. The other was the interpreter. Both were men. They wore shirts and full pants.

They asked me, “What did the Salwa Judum men do to you after they abducted you?” I told them that the Salwa Judum men raped me. I told those two NHRC men that I had begged the Salwa Judum men not to rape me.

THERE WERE five of us who had gone to depose before the NHRC. All of us were rape victims. Inside the room, there was one more girl with me from my village.

They asked us questions together. They asked me if I knew who had raped me. I said, “Yes! It was the men from Salwa Judum.”

I gave them the names of my rapists. They asked why I didn’t go to the police. I told them that the Salwa Judum men had told me that if I went to the police, they would kill me.

Hadn’t our rapists gone back to the police station right after raping us? The other girl was quiet as I gave my testimony.

Did the NHRC give me any documents? No.

Did they give me a copy of my testimony? No.

I don’t know what’s an affidavit. Nobody told me that I have a right to get a copy of my testimony, my affidavit. They took my thumb impression on some papers. That’s all. I got nothing from them.

A year after my rape I was married off. I now live with my mother-in-law and husband.

I don’t have faith in the NHRC anymore.

I want my rapists dead.

All four raped me repeatedly. They kept saying, “Don’t worry. I will marry you later

Possibly a minor when raped


Veko Soma of Korpar village, Odiya Rajesh of Polempalli village, Suyid Idma of Palem village

MY PARENTS died six years ago of illnesses. I live with my late brother’s widow. On the day I was raped about three years ago, I had gone with another girl to the woods to pick mahua flowers. At noon, several men in uniforms and carrying guns attacked us. They were SPOs who lived in nearby villages and often passed by.

Four men held me down. I know three by name. They dragged me to a field and disrobed me. As each raped me, the other three held me down. This lasted probably two hours. All four raped me repeatedly. They kept saying, “Don’t worry. I will marry you later.” I wept all the while. I begged them not to pin me down so brutally as it hurt my limbs. They threatened they would kill me if I told anyone of being raped. Once done, they abandoned me there. My clothes lay torn at some distance.

A woman helped me up. Another fetched me her wraparound. They brought me back to my house. The sun had set by now. I told my sister-in-law I had been raped. She washed me with warm water and gave me a herbal drink. I developed an infection and bled for days. My limbs ached for weeks.

I was too scared to tell anyone else. My sister-in-law informed her family and the sarpanch, Sudi Nanda. I gave him the names of three of my rapists. He later told me he went to the police station and reported my rape. I trust the sarpanch still. But the police never came to talk to me or investigate. I didn’t go to the police station myself. A few journalists came and interviewed me, but I never heard anything come of it. I don’t know of any court case in the Supreme Court. I don’t know the NHRC.

I have come across my rapists several times at the weekly market. They avoid me and I avoid them. If I ever look at them, they melt away in the crowd. Do I want my rapists punished? If you can help me, then please send them to jail.

Why didn’t I go to the police? [Goes quiet]


They locked me in a room in the police station. Some time later, a man I know came in. He raped me

Possibly between 18-20 years old


Tudka, Suresh, Arpat, Govind, and seven others

IN MARCH 2008, the Salwa Judum burnt down my village, including my house. My father asked me to go to our relatives’ in another village. As I was about to get into a bus at Konta [150km south of Dantewada], a man named Dinesh, whom I knew to be with the Salwa Judum and who was the sarpanch of a village named

Gorka, approached me with another man. He asked me: “Where are you headed?” At that time, my aunt – my mother’s sister-in-law – was passing by. She told them she would take me to her house. My aunt took me to her tenement in the Salwa Judum camp at Konta.

The next morning, at 7.30am, about 10 SPOs in uniform carrying guns, landed at my aunt’s hut. They said Dinesh had sent them. I knew three of them. They were SPOs from a nearby village. Their names are Suresh, Arpat and Govind. I had often seen them at the weekly market. They said the thanedaar [police station chief] at Konta had summoned me. I asked my aunt to come with me but she backed out.

At the police station, the SPOs told the thanedaar that they had caught me with the Naxals. Shortly, my aunt landed up. Three people interrogated me separately through the day in my aunt’s presence. One of them, whom I recognise by face but can’t name, said to me, “You will be jailed, or even killed.” I was scared. I pleaded to be allowed to go. In the afternoon, they said I could go. But just as I left with my aunt, I ran into some SPOs who told my aunt to go away and forcibly brought me back to the police station.

They took me to a bare room about 10ft by 7ft in size, blindfolded me with a towel, and locked it from outside. It had two windows and both were shut.

Some time later, a man came in. He took off my blindfold. I recognised him, having seen him often at the weekly market. I don’t know his formal name, but he is nicknamed Tudka and is an SPO in Konta. He asked me, “How did you get here?” I said: “They brought me here.” Then he raped me. I got very angry. I swore at him. I tried to push him. But he held me and continued to rape me. Once he was done, he blindfolded me again and left the room, locking it from outside.

I lost all sense of time. Later, two men came in. I begged them, “Show me the way out.” They let me out. I ran back to my aunt’s place at the Salwa Judum camp. After that, every day the SPOs came to check on me. One said, “We will kill you if you try to escape.”

Ten days later, I escaped the camp and came to the house of another aunt in a far-off village. She married me off to her son to save me further trouble. But a week later, seven SPOs with guns landed up in my husband’s village. Terrified, I hid myself. The villagers later told me that Tudka, my rapist, had been among them.

The SPOs demanded money from the villagers, citing a tradition in which the groom’s family pays the bride’s. The SPOs claimed they hailed from my village and that made them my family. At gunpoint, they stole three chicken, three goats, and a cow, as well as Rs 3,500.

They came back to my husband’s village several times afterwards, too. I fear that they will keep returning there. So I prefer to stay in hiding all the time.

The men caught me and beat me up. One man then raped me. The others were throwing stuff out

Married with daughter



SPO Joga of Seesod village

IHAD BEEN married only a month when the Salwa Judum men raped me. This was two years ago. My husband was home. It was about 9am. My mother-inlaw was still asleep.

I was winnowing rice just outside my house, and that is when I saw a force of uniformed men approaching our house. They were in green fatigues and carrying guns.I ran to my mother-inlaw and shook her awake.

My husband was inside eating breakfast. The SPOs had once before caught my husband, so I told him to run away to escape the force.

The uniformed men came and caught me and started beating me up. One of them asked me for the house keys.

I opened the house for them. They tore up the sack which held the rice. One man held me. He then took me inside the house. The other men began throwing stuff out of the house.

One man then raped me. He is known as Joga of a village named Seesod. I can identify him. My mother-inlaw had run away by now. They ransacked the house and took my mother-in-law’s money. My husband returned at night. I told him I had been raped. We did not go to the police. The next day my mother-in-law took me to the hospital at Dornapal.

I told the doctor I had been raped and I was in terrible pain. I don’t know what the doctor said. I don’t know what my mother-in-law paid him as fees.

I told everyone in the village about my rape. The sarpanch said, “We are all scared. What can we do?


Possibly a minor when raped three years ago


Raju of Chintanaar village, Vijay (village unknown)

I AM THE eldest of three brothers and two sisters. Our father passed away three years ago. One day shortly after that, I was doing chores at the door of my house when someone grabbed my hair violently and dragged me inside my house. I saw there were four or more men. I know at least two of them, Raju of Chintanaar village and Vijay, who was once a construction labourer in my village. I had worked with both earlier and I know for sure that they had joined the Salwa Judum.

They were in their uniforms and had guns. I screamed for my mother but one of them held her outside. There was no one else at home, as my brothers had gone to the forests and my sister was at school. One of the men asked me, “Are you a Naxal?” I said no. He said they would kill me.

Then they raped me, all four of them. I cried all the while. Then they left.

Three days later, a force of uniformed men returned. Raju and Vijay were not among them. They beat me up badly. They beat up other people in the village. They threatened us saying we should join Salwa Judum or else... As they beat us up, they said, “Come to Dornapal [Salwa Judum camp]. We will enroll you as SPOs.” But no one from our village went.

Why didn’t I go to the police? I was scared they would catch me if I did. I told everyone in the village about my rape, including the sarpanch. But he said, “We are all scared. What can we do?”

One year after he raped me, I ran into Raju while on the way to the hospital. Once I came across Vijay too. On both occasions, they turned their heads away when they saw me.

Three other women were raped in my village. I have never heard of the Supreme Court. I don’t know if it ordered any investigations into the rapes of women like me. I don’t know what is NHRC. I don’t know if it carried out any investigations. I do know that no police report was ever filed about my rape.

I want the police to catch my rapists. I don’t know if anyone will marry me.
 6. SODI A
They tore up my clothes, gagged me and raped me. I fainted. I was bleeding as my mother picked me up

A minor when raped



Salwa Judum SPOs

AT ABOUT 3PM one day two years ago, I was at our granary with my parents. My mother and I were winnowing the rice from its husk. My father was making ropes. Suddenly, a group of about 10 uniformed men were upon us, guns on their shoulders, sticks in their hands. Two caught me by my arm. I recognised none. My father tried to rush to me, but they held him back and beat him so badly that they drew blood from all over him.

My father screamed, “What are you doing to my daughter?” My mother, too, began to wail. They beat her black and blue with sticks and took her away somewhere. Then they raped me. Four people raped me. I don’t know them. They had masked their faces. They took my father to our house, which was about 100 feet away. Thankfully, my father didn’t witness my rape.

I was wearing a wraparound as my lower garment, a towel on my head, and a red blouse. They tore up my clothes, gagged my mouth with a black cloth, and tied another cloth around it. I couldn’t see my mother. They raped me for a long time, all of them. I was crying. Then the men left and my mother came in and picked me up. I had fainted. I was bleeding heavily. My mother took me home and gave me clothes to wear because my clothes were all torn.

We heard that they’d taken my father to the house of his older brother. There they tied up both men. Later, other villagers went and set them free. The villagers told my father he should have screamed when the men attacked.

How do I know they were Salwa Judum and not Naxals? I know they were from the Salwa Judum because eight days earlier they had come to our village and asked us to join the Judum. Well, four days later they came back. This time, they were fully unmasked. In fact, they kept coming back to the village. Every time they did, I would run and hide.

In fact, I had seen other Salwa Judum members dres - sed exactly like them at Dornapal. They were clearly not Naxals. Naxals come to our village sometimes. But they have never raped anyone.

The morning after I was raped, my father, my mother and I went to a hospital 10km away. No one came with us. My lower abdomen was in terrible pain from the forced penetrative sex.

I saw a private doctor who runs a two-room clinic. He is a Bengali. I told him I had been raped. He asked me, “Why did you keep quiet during the rape?” I told him that I couldn’t speak because I was gagged.

The doctor gave me some pills and syrup. We paid him Rs 1,000. He didn’t tell me that I should go to the police. I’ve no idea if he is bound by law to report rape to the police. I don’t remember his name but I remember him. He said I should drink lots of warm water and stop eating tomatoes and sour foodstuff. It’s two years since I was raped but I still get terrible stomach aches during menstruation.

The doctor also gave us ointments to heal my father’s wounds from all the beating. But my father’s wounds were really bad. His skin had come off his back and arms. Blood had clotted all over. My father died of his wounds in less than two weeks.

I never went to the police. I was scared they would catch me again. I get very angry every time I think of my rapists and the killers of my father. I think of them every day. I want them in jail. I want them punished.

I don’t know what the NHRC is. I have never met anyone from the NHRC.
We found my sister’s body after 10 days. She had been raped, stabbed and shot in the mouth

Possibly between 18-20 years old



Salwa Judum SPOs of raping and killing his sister, and killing his father

SALWA JUDUM men raped my sister on December 29, 2006. Then, they stabbed her, put a gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger. At the same time, they also killed my father by first beating and then shooting him. At that time, I was working in Andhra Pradesh as a movie theater attendant and visiting home.

On that day, a number of SPOs surrounded our village. They fired upon a villager named Motiram near the village pond. The bullet hit his arm. He ran back to the village. The SPOs began burning down the village. Almost 35 houses were burned down. They even burnt the cowsheds and the haystacks.

I had only recently built a new house at a cost of Rs 50,000. All our belongings were burnt to ashes. They caught my father, Gantal Kanhaiya, and began beating him mercilessly. They brought him inside my grandmother’s hut near our house. I had, meanwhile, hid myself in the housetop granary. From there I saw them thrash my father repeatedly. My father lost consciousness and died later.

The SPOs dragged my 20- year-old sister, Gantal Sridevi, out of her room and began beating her too. They then took her inside my uncle’s room. She was crying and screaming. When my mother pleaded with them to let my sister go, a man put a gun in my mother’s mouth and threatened to kill her. They even beat up my grandmother. They beat my wife and snatched her mangalsutra. They stole all our valuables, including money.

The SPOs dragged my sister near the forest, to a spot close to the pond and raped her. We found her body after 10 days. She had been stabbed and was shot in her mouth.

I didn’t go to the police or register an FIR because I was scared. We cremated my sister. That day four people were killed, including Motilal, the man who had been shot first of all. The local priest, Ramaya, was also shot dead when he was trying to flee his house, which they set on fire. I didn’t approach the Supreme Court.