Once forbidden, always…
- Mightier than the Mamata govt, fear is the sole inhabitant of Salpatra

PRONAB MONDAL

Salpatra, March 4: Maoist leader Kishan is dead but he has left behind a "ghost village" that even the new Bengal government has been unable to breathe back to life.

The story of Salpatra, a village of mostly Muslim families near Jhargram town, is not one of usual black-and-white administrative inaction but of how acts of unspeakable brutality and an element of political mistrust can keep empty an entire village not more than 150km from Calcutta.

Salpatra has been lying deserted for 21 months since June 2010 when the Left was in power. As many as 500 inhabitants fled from the 75 homes there after ruthless reprisals by Maoists and have refused to return in the wake of some of the most gruesome murders the state has witnessed.

Intense raids by the new government had driven the rebels out of the area but the villagers, who claim a personal assurance from chief minister Mamata Banerjee, are reluctant to return.

"We do not dare return home because of the horror we have seen. We witnessed Maoist terror that is difficult to imagine. We fled after the Maoists asked us to vacate our houses," said Zabbar Ali, who now lives in a relative's house with four family members.

The villagers, mostly farmers or farm hands in what was once a CPM stronghold, said they had met Mamata after she came to power.

"I went to the chief minister's Kalighat residence in November 2011 and narrated our plight. I handed over the list of all the villagers. She assured us that our problem would be looked into. She told me that she could not put her official seal on a copy of the memorandum as she was at home," said Zakir Hossain.

A Trinamul general secretary who usually co-ordinates such meetings said tonight that he could not immediately recall anyone from Salpatra submitting a memorandum to Mamata. So high was the number of people visiting Mamata in the initial months after she came to power, it is possible that aides cannot readily recollect individual cases.

Salpatra is only 5km from a police outpost. A metalled road, constructed under the Prime Minister's Gram Sadak Yojana, cuts through the village. Some of the houses at Salpatra still have small dish antennae on their tiled roof. "Our houses will gradually crumble if we don't return and take up repairs," Zakir said.

Surendra Gupta, the district magistrate of West Midnapore, said he was aware of the problem but pointed out the administration's limitations. "I held a meeting with the villagers. They want police posting in front of their homes which is not possible," said Gupta.

The villagers are demanding a police outpost or a few constables stationed at Salpatra after sunset. The administration says it is facing a problem because setting up pickets in Maoist areas demands larger fortification such as fencing.

The pulls and pressures of priorities in the resource-starved state have prompted some villagers to ask if the administration's reluctance stems from the inhabitants' political past.

"Maybe the ruling party isn't interested in coming to our help because our village was a known CPM stronghold," said Zakir. "We want a police picket in our village, especially after sunset. We saw a bloodbath in our village and don't want another."

District magistrate Gupta said he had assured the villagers that the police would escort them to their homes. "But they were not ready to accept the offer," Gupta said.

The villagers said they were worried about their fate once the police left. "What will happen to us? Who will save us if rebels come at night and go on a killing spree?" asked Sailabala Nayek, a homemaker.

Memories of such retribution are still raw. They also illustrate how a reign of terror flourished in Bengal, unchallenged and unhindered in the 21st century.

On the night of December 25, 2009, six months after the joint forces had moved into Lalgarh, a group of 20 armed youths — Maoists recruits from nearby villages — had entered Salpatra on motorbikes.

"They took all of us to the Akhrasole Primary School near Muraboni forest (about 3km from the village). They asked us to form a committee of six men and three women that would function under their diktat and collect 1kg of rice from each family," recounted Zakir.

Such a village committee was the brainchild of Kishan, the Maoist leader who was gunned down in Burishole forest near Jhargram in November last year.

Once the committee was formed, the villagers were taken to rallies by force and had to provide rice and a levy to Maoists regularly.

A spine-chilling episode took place around midnight on June 7, 2010. "They took all of us to a paddy field where a kangaroo court was held. Khandokar Mehfuz Ali, one of my neighbours, was labelled a CPM man and his hands and feet were tied. Nirmal Nayek requested the rebels not to kill Ali, following which they tied up Nayek, too. The two were beaten for over an hour," said Sheikh Roshan, a villager.

The rebels then dragged Khandokar and Nayek, who had fallen unconscious by then, to the metalled road and asked the villagers to line up there.

"They shot Khandokar and Nayek. We were shivering with fear," said Zaffar Ali. "They asked us to vacate the village the next morning. We started leaving our houses from that midnight."

Two women who stayed back were killed in an unspeakable manner. "Amena Bibi (52) and Momena Bibi (60) stayed back, thinking the Maoists would spare them because of their age. But after a few days, their bodies were found in a canal."

Zaffar Ali described the grisly torture marks and added: "The rebels wanted to send a message about what would happen to us if we stayed back."

That message has survived Kishan. It has also proved more enduring than the hope inspired by the change of government.