"Resilience Unveiled: A Woman's Fight for Justice and Livelihood, Aided by Goats"

 

Introduction: In a poignant narrative of unwavering determination, Pratapi, a 35-year-old woman residing in Raup, Ghasiya Basti, Robertsganj, Sonbhadra, shares the arduous journey she embarked upon to secure her husband's release. This account reveals the harsh realities of the legal system, the persistence required to seek justice, and the profound sacrifices made in the name of love and freedom. Pratapi's compelling story underscores the pivotal role that goats play as tools for women survivors, not only providing crucial livelihood support but also serving as symbols of justice and sources of psychosocial assistance.

Pratapi's Testimony:

My name is Pratapi, and my husband's name is Nandalal. He works as a contract laborer in Chennai and had come home for a brief visit before his return. Little did we know that our lives would take a distressing turn that day.

A Fateful Encounter: While in Almora, Robertsganj, my husband, and I were at an ATM where his contractor withdrew 3000 rupees. As we were conversing, my husband, who had consumed alcohol, was approached by Sub-Inspector Ravindra Yadav, stationed in the area. What followed was a horrifying episode that changed our lives forever.

A Brutal Arrest: Without warning, the sub-inspector began to mercilessly beat my husband with a baton. My husband's cries for help pierced the air, prompting me to intervene. I approached the sub-inspector, only to be met with verbal abuse and threats. He chased me away, warning that he would summon the police to subject me to the same brutality. My husband was subsequently taken to the Robertsganj police station.

The Grueling Ordeal: Arriving at the police station the following morning, I was met with a distressing sight. My husband bore the marks of severe police brutality, yet his pleas went unheard. With no financial resources to spare, I embarked on a daunting journey to secure his release.

Sacrifices Made: To finance my husband's legal defense, I had to make unimaginable sacrifices. I sold our livestock, including pigs and goats, and handed over the proceeds to a lawyer. The legal battle was financially draining, with the lawyer estimating a cost of approximately 90,000 rupees to secure my husband's freedom.

Desperation and Determination: My desperation led me to sell our land and our humble hut. I even resorted to begging for funds, all while bearing the burden of a pregnancy that had reached eight months. The charges against my husband were baseless, as he had been falsely accused of robbery.

A Mother's Struggle: Each court hearing demanded my presence, and I would leave behind my responsibilities to attend. At this time, I had five small children to care for, and their needs became increasingly difficult to meet. The memory of those trying times continues to haunt me—a pregnant woman, begging for sustenance and shelter while tirelessly pursuing my husband's release in a mere six months.

Empowerment Through Goats: Pratapi attests that goats were instrumental in her journey. These animals provided vital livelihood support, enabling her to navigate financial challenges during her quest for justice. Moreover, goats symbolized her pursuit of justice and offered psychosocial support in her moments of emotional turmoil. They became silent companions, imparting stability and resilience throughout her husband's legal battle.

Conclusion: Pratapi's story eloquently illustrates that goats are more than mere livestock; they are tools of empowerment that can uplift women survivors in their pursuit of justice and healing. These resilient animals offer not only livelihood support but also serve as symbols of justice and sources of psychosocial assistance, reaffirming the strength and determination of survivors like Pratapi as they rebuild their lives.

"Empowering Survivors of Custodial Torture: Stories of Resilience and Hope"

 Introduction: In a heart-wrenching saga of injustice, betrayal, and unspeakable tragedy, three courageous women—Kiran, Janti Devi, and Reena—have emerged as beacons of resilience and hope in the face of the most harrowing circumstances. Their stories, documented on the People's Vigilance Committee on Human Rights (PVCHR) blog, shed light on the deep-seated issues of custodial torture and its devastating impact on families. This report delves into their narratives, highlighting their unwavering determination to seek justice and their newfound empowerment through the provision of goats as part of a livelihood support initiative.

1. Injustice Unveiled: A Heart-Wrenching Tale of Tragedy and Betrayal

Link: Read Full Story

Usha, a widow and the wife of a man who fell victim to false accusations, tells a poignant tale of loss and betrayal. Her husband's tragic death due to custodial torture left her devastated, grappling with the aftermath of an unjust legal system. The blog post recounts Usha's journey, revealing the anguish and suffering she endured as a result of false accusations. Yet, amidst this darkness, a glimmer of hope emerges as she receives a goat as part of a livelihood support program. For Usha, it represents not only a means of sustenance but also a recognition of the state's wrongdoing.

2. Desperate Plea: 'Save My Husband or the Police Will Kill Me'

Link: Read Full Story

The second narrative, "Desperate Plea," tells the story of yet another widow, who goes by the name of Kiran. She faced a dire predicament—her husband's life hung in the balance as she pleaded for his safety, fearing that he would become another victim of police brutality. This post paints a vivid picture of the desperation and helplessness experienced by those ensnared in the web of custodial torture. Kiran's plea for her husband's life underscores the urgent need for reform and accountability within the justice system.

3. Injustice and Tragedy: A Mother's Heart-Wrenching Tale of Her Son's Untimely Death and the Quest for Justice

Link: Read Full Story

Janti Devi, a mother who tragically lost her son to custodial torture, shares her deeply moving tale of grief, loss, and unwavering determination. This post encapsulates the anguish experienced by mothers who witness their children falling victim to brutality within the confines of the justice system. Janti Devi's quest for justice serves as a stark reminder of the need for systemic change and accountability.

Empowerment Through Livelihood Support: A Ray of Hope

The common thread binding these heart-wrenching stories is the provision of goats as part of a IRCT-PVCHR livelihood support initiative. For Usha Kiran, and Janti Devi, these goats represent more than just a means of income; they symbolize resilience, hope, and recognition of the injustices they have endured. The goats empower these women to rebuild their lives, provide for their families, and stand as living testimony to their indomitable spirit.

Recent Developments: NHRC Compensation Order

In a recent turn of events, the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) issued an order for a compensation of five hundred thousand Indian Rupees in the case of Janti Devi's son, with the compensation being awarded to Janti Devi's daughter-in-law, Reena. This landmark decision is a testament to the relentless pursuit of justice and accountability. Link for details: https://pvchr.blogspot.com/2023/09/injustice-and-tragedy-mothers-heart.html

Conclusion:

The narratives of Usha, Kiran, and Janti Devi serve as a stark reminder of the urgent need for reform within the justice system. The provision of goats as a means of livelihood support not only offers economic sustenance but also acts as a beacon of hope, symbolizing recognition of the injustices endured. These women's stories highlight their resilience and determination to seek justice, setting a powerful example for society. The recent NHRC compensation order is a significant step towards acknowledging the pain and suffering inflicted upon these families. Their journeys, documented on the PVCHR blog, inspire hope for a more just and compassionate society.

"Injustice and Tragedy: A Mother's Heart-Wrenching Tale of Her Son's Untimely Death and the Quest for Justice"

 In heart-wrenching anguish, Janti Devi, aged 46, narrates her tragic tale from the village of Markundi, Post Office Baandha-Thana, Chopan, District Sonbhadra, Uttar Pradesh.

My once blissful family now lies shattered. We were a contented household, with five sons and three daughters-in-law. My sons worked as truck drivers, tirelessly supporting our family with their earnings. Among them was my youngest son, Krishna Murari, fondly known as Pintu, who too drove a truck and provided for us. He employed his nephew Ankur, the son of my brother-in-law Lalita Devi, as his helper. They worked together, earning their livelihood.

My youngest daughter-in-law, Reena, had a daughter named Riya, born in January 2021. However, in January of the same year, calamity struck our home. My son was taken away by a man named Kaal, who had a reputation for his alcohol addiction. They went to the house of Birbal Chero, where Birbal's daughter Neha took away my son's mobile phone. When he requested it back, an altercation ensued, leading to Birbal calling the police.

Out of fear, my son fled the scene. That night, he took refuge at my brother-in-law's house and informed us about the incident. Leelavati Devi, my son's mother-in-law, immediately rushed to the police station and handed my son over to them. During this time, we were kept in the dark about the happenings.

After a while, the police summoned us to the station, where we repeatedly begged and pleaded for my son's innocence. However, Sandeep Jaiswal, the station in-charge, who was corrupt, was adamant. They took my daughter-in-law outside the station and pressured her to give a false statement against my son, claiming he had harassed her. Under duress, she complied, leading to a false case against my son.

We continued to implore and beseech the police and Birbal Chero and his wife, but they remained unyielding. Finally, they demanded 2.5 lakh rupees. In our impoverished state, we were incapable of arranging such a large sum. Desperate, we offered to sell some land, but the station in-charge insisted we sign over the land deeds to them in lieu of the money.

My husband, Mahendra Prasad, and I, broken and defeated, faced an unimaginable choice. We had to sign away our land or lose our son. My husband, unable to bear the agony, was on the verge of collapse. At this moment of extreme distress, we relented and signed the papers.

With our hearts heavy and our spirits crushed, we went home. Our small daughter-in-law, Reena, had become mentally unhinged, unable to bear the weight of the situation. How could we hide this sorrow? We were unable to console ourselves. We felt as if someone would kill us.

We informed the police that we couldn't come up with the 2.5 lakh rupees and begged for mercy. But the station in-charge, in a menacing tone, ordered us to sign some papers. My husband, overwhelmed with grief, couldn't bring himself to sign, and the police took our son's body away.

My daughter-in-law sobbed uncontrollably. We couldn't silence her cries. In the midst of our grief, we didn't know what to do. The entire village mourned my son's tragic death. We were lost, unable to comprehend the gravity of our situation.

The jailer informed us that my son had been brutally murdered while in custody. We demand justice for my son's death, and we hope that the law will take its course and deliver justice to us. Sharing our ordeal has become our lifeline, and we believe that through the legal system, we will receive the justice we seek. It feels as if God has entered our home. We will find justice!

 

"Desperate Plea: 'Save My Husband or the Police Will Kill Me'"

 My name is Kiran, and I am 30 years old. My husband is Sanjay, also known as Mangal. I belong to the Chamar community. We have two sons and a daughter, and I work as a laborer to provide for my family.

It was the evening of October 17, 2022, around 7 PM, when I was not at home. At that moment, two police officers arrived at my house on a motorcycle. The neighbors next door informed me that my in-laws lived near the Barm Baba temple. The police officers approached my in-laws, and my mother-in-law, Nifni Devi, was at home. They told her that they had received orders from the police station and demanded that my son, who was not at home, come to the station.

My mother-in-law explained that my son did not know how to sign, and she called my father-in-law. The police officers, resorting to lies, had my father-in-law sign some documents. After they had the documents signed, they summoned my father-in-law to the police station.

When we arrived at the police station, the officers told us that our son had died and that his body was in the district hospital's mortuary in Lohri. Upon hearing this, my father-in-law collapsed in shock, falling to the ground. At that moment, we couldn't comprehend what had happened or why. Gathering our strength, we brought my father-in-law back home, utterly devastated.

We had been betrayed in the most horrific manner by the police. The people around us provided support as we tried to make sense of this tragedy. On the morning of October 18, 2022, we, along with our entire village, went to Lohri Hospital at 10:00 AM. The doctors arrived around 3:00 PM, and a post-mortem examination was conducted on my husband.

We received his body around 4:00 PM. As we prepared for his final rites, we noticed marks of injuries on his neck, chest, and legs. It seemed evident that he had been brutally assaulted, leading to his untimely demise. Witnessing these signs of violence filled us with immense sorrow and anguish.

We couldn't fathom why the police had inflicted such a severe punishment upon us. Since that incident, I have not been in good health. We live in meager circumstances, and my children frequently inquire about their father, making various demands. The burden of securing their future rests heavily on my shoulders.

On October 16, 2022, around 4:00 PM, my husband had called my mother, uttering these haunting words, "Save me, or the police will kill me." I regret that I could not even speak to my ill-fated husband. Day and night, the fear and uncertainty plague my thoughts, robbing me of sleep and peace of mind.

I implore that strict action be taken against the police officers responsible for my husband's murder. I seek justice for my husband's soul and hope that his tormentors face the consequences of their actions.

 

"Injustice Unveiled: A Heart-Wrenching Tale of Tragedy and Betrayal – My Husband, a Victim of False Accusations, Laid to Rest"

 My name is Usha Devi, and I am 40 years old. I hail from the village of Baliyari, post office Myorpur, police station Myorpur, tehsil Dudhi, and district Sonbhadra. In my family, I have a son and a daughter. My husband, the late Sandeep, was the sole breadwinner, toiling as a driver to sustain our household. He managed all our expenses with his hard-earned money.

One fateful day in February 2009, my husband ventured into the jungle to gather firewood. An argument ensued with a young girl, leading her to file a complaint against him at the police station. The police arrived at our doorstep and forcefully took my husband into custody. We repeatedly asked why they were taking him, but they remained tight-lipped and proceeded with the arrest. Our children wept inconsolably that day, and anxiety gripped our hearts as we wondered why they had taken him away. My husband was innocent and had committed no wrong.

Distraught, I rushed to the police station to inquire about the situation. I pleaded with the officers, explaining that my husband had been unwell for a week, only leaving the house to gather firewood. He hadn't been driving the vehicle, and he certainly hadn't committed any crime. However, the officer ignored my pleas and still detained him.

It was then that I learned that a girl from the neighboring village had falsely accused my husband of misconduct. The ground slipped from beneath my feet, and I implored the officer to consider my husband's illness. But the police remained deaf to my pleas. We returned home, our situation worsening with every passing day. We struggled to make ends meet and couldn't afford to fight the case.

Desperate, we borrowed money to secure a lawyer and bail my husband out. He was finally released, but our ordeal was far from over. In 2012, he was convicted, and our world crumbled. Then, on the 16th of July 2016, we received the devastating news that he had tragically taken his own life while in prison.

The news shattered our home. Our world turned dark, and tears flowed endlessly. Our lives spiraled into despair. My in-laws and I rushed to the hospital, where I witnessed the horrific injuries inflicted upon my husband. There were no signs of struggle on his neck, but marks of violence marred his hands and other parts of his body.

It was apparent that he had been brutally assaulted in jail, and his death had resulted from this brutality. The sight left me unconscious. My saas (mother-in-law) cried bitterly, and my sasur (father-in-law) sat in a corner, devastated. The police insisted on taking the body for a post-mortem, but we were too traumatized to comprehend what to do. Somehow, we managed to bring my husband's lifeless body home and performed his last rites.

That day remains the darkest in my life. Since then, my in-laws and I have been left to fend for ourselves. Our financial situation worsened, and we had to take up laborious jobs to survive. We were burdened with debts, and the cost of fighting for justice seemed insurmountable. No one inquires about us anymore, and we have been left to struggle in anonymity.

Sharing this story finally brings a sense of relief. After all these years, someone is listening to the harrowing ordeal that has defined my life. I hope that sharing this tragedy will help bring justice to my husband's memory.

 

"Empowering Torture Victims Through Livelihood Support"

 In a remarkable collaboration between JanMitra Nyas and PVCHR, with the support of the International Rehabilitation Council, goats were provided as a lifeline to Muslim torture victims in Bazardiha, Varanasi. This initiative has proven to be a pivotal step towards easing the financial burden incurred during their pursuit of justice.

"Struggles to Survival: Naushad's Journey of Resilience"

My name is Naushad Hashmi, a 14-year-old boy. I reside in a rented house near Mishra Petrol Pump in front of Gulzar's house. My parents, Putra Shourabh Hashmi and Munni Hashmi, work hard to make ends meet. Despite studying up to class 9, I had to halt my education due to financial constraints.

Two months ago, I moved to Banaras from my grandmother's house in Mumbai. Witnessing my mother's health deteriorate due to excessive work, I decided to help her financially. However, I faced challenges finding work in an unfamiliar place. That's when my friend Pradeep introduced me to Ranjan Raghuvanshi on February 4, 2021. Ranjan offered me a job installing gas cylinders for a daily wage of 300 rupees.

I agreed and informed my unwell mother about the opportunity. As I worked diligently, Ranjan often delayed my payments, promising to settle them later. I trusted him and continued working.

During my employment, Ranjan requested that I help his sister, Rittika, find accommodation in our area, as she faced difficulties commuting from Jaunpur. Despite suggesting she stay with him, he was hesitant, fearing family conflicts.

On February 27, 2021, Ranjan's wife called me late at night, urgently seeking Ranjan's whereabouts. I had the bike he used for work, so I rushed to their place. Unable to provide answers, I returned home.

The next morning, Ranjan's wife and mother arrived at our home, questioning why we had given Ranjan the bike. I explained he had requested it daily for work. They threatened us and even intimidated my mother.

I humbly request your investigation into my case to prevent false accusations and ensure justice prevails.

"Innocence Shattered: Nurul Hak Galla's Tale of Injustice"

In the tranquil town of Bajaradiha, Thana-Bhelupur, District-Varanasi, Mr. Nurul Hak Galla's life took a drastic turn, leading him into a nightmarish ordeal that would forever alter his existence. This harrowing account reveals his journey from a peaceful slumber to confronting unfathomable horrors at the hands of those sworn to protect.

On December 22, 2019, Mr. Galla was abruptly awakened by the violent pounding on his home's door. He encountered uniformed police officers inquiring about his absent elder brother, Mumtaz. Fear gripped him at the mere mention of his brother's name. Without explanation, the officers ordered him to join a procession, leaving him bewildered, as he had no prior involvement.

Before he could utter a word, they forcibly apprehended him and thrust him into the alley. He pleaded for proper clothing, as he was only in undershirt and pants, but received only vulgar abuse in return.

Out in the street, he witnessed an overwhelming presence of uniformed police officers, shrouding the surroundings in terror and helplessness. He was then forced into a vehicle already occupied by Ziaul Haq, Nasim, and Abdul Jabbar (Nasruddin), local boys. Fear and uncertainty clouded their thoughts as they wondered about the reason behind this ordeal.

They were confined in deplorable conditions in a cell, engulfed in the stench of urine and feces. The night was agonizing, marked by a yearning for home that seemed endless.

Morning brought no release; they remained locked inside, hungry and thirsty. Back home, their families were unaware of their whereabouts and suffering. Hunger gnawed at them, but fear kept them from approaching the door for sustenance.

Mr. Galla's health deteriorated rapidly, with excruciating pain in his stomach and head. After receiving word that they were being transferred to the Bhelupur police station, he sought medical attention at a nearby government hospital. Despite severe torture, the medical report downplayed his injuries.

Unjustly charged with serious offenses, including sedition, Mr. Galla spent approximately 25 days in jail, separated from his family. The scars, both physical and emotional, continue to haunt him.

His story underscores the urgent need for justice in the face of abuse of power and serves as a poignant reminder of the resilience of the human spirit in the face of unimaginable adversity.

For detail testimonies, please read follow links: 

"Innocence Shattered: A Tale of Brutality and Injustice"

"From Struggles to Survival: A Testimony of Determination and Resilience"

 

 

"Innocence Shattered: A Tale of Brutality and Injustice"

In the small town of Bajaradiha, Thana-Bhelupur, District-Varanasi, the life of a resilient soul, Mr. Nurul Hak Galla, took an unexpected turn when he was dragged into a whirlwind of events that would change his life forever. This is the harrowing account of his journey from a peaceful night's sleep to facing unimaginable horrors at the hands of those meant to protect.

Mr. Galla recounts the fateful night of December 22, 2019, when he was peacefully asleep in his room. The sudden sound of his home's door being forcefully pounded upon jolted him awake. As he rushed to see what was happening, he was confronted by five or six police officers in uniform, inquiring about his elder brother Mumtaz, who was not at home that night. The mere mention of his brother's name sent shivers down his spine, and fear engulfed him. The police officers wasted no time, instructing him to join a procession, leaving him baffled as he had not been part of any such procession.

Before he could utter a word, these officers forcefully apprehended him and led him out into the alley. He pleaded with them, requesting to at least allow him to wear proper clothing, as he was only dressed in his undershirt and pants. However, instead of showing any empathy, the officers began hurling vulgar abuse at him.

Mr. Galla describes being taken outside into the street, all the while trembling from the cold. But what struck him the most was the sight of a hundred police officers in uniform, instilling a sense of terror and helplessness. Everywhere he looked, there was nothing but an atmosphere of fear, with people cowering in their homes.

The police officers then forced him into a vehicle, which already had three other local boys - Ziaul Haq, Nasim, and Abdul Jabbar, also known as Nasruddin. The journey was filled with fear and uncertainty as Mr. Galla wondered why the police were taking them away. He had not participated in any procession. Upon reaching the police station in Maduadih, they were all thrown into a cell, and their ordeal continued.

Inside the cell, the conditions were deplorable, and the stench of urine and feces filled the air. It was impossible to fathom why they had been subjected to this treatment. They spent the night in agony, yearning for their homes, and the long, dark hours seemed endless.

Morning came, and they were still waiting, hopeful that they would be released from the cell soon. However, that was not to be the case. They remained locked inside, hungry and thirsty, with no access to food or water.

Back at home, Mr. Galla's family was unaware of their whereabouts and the circumstances they were enduring. The hunger pangs were overpowering, but the fear of the unknown kept them from approaching the door for sustenance. By midday, they were given a cup of tea and some water, but it was far from enough to satisfy their needs.

Meanwhile, Mr. Galla's health was deteriorating rapidly. He was experiencing excruciating pain in his stomach and head, and the physical toll was unbearable. They finally received word from the police that they were being transferred to the Bhelupur police station.

At the Bhelupur police station, the officers tried to identify Mr. Galla and the other detainees through photographs on their mobile phones. None of them recognized Mr. Galla, as he had not been a part of any procession on that fateful day. When he informed them of this fact, they persisted in questioning him.

Subsequently, Mr. Galla was taken to a room at the police station, where he endured a brutal assault. He was pinned against the bathroom wall, his face pressed against it, while two officers held his arms and two others took turns beating his buttocks and knees relentlessly. The excruciating pain and terror he experienced during this ordeal were beyond description.

The officers demanded money from him, asking, "How much have you eaten?" He replied, "I haven't eaten anything." This response only seemed to fuel their cruelty. They continued to thrash him mercilessly, using their sticks to inflict pain.

In his weakest moment, Mr. Galla pleaded with them, mentioning that they were known to his father. One of the officers responded by delivering a powerful slap across his face. He was utterly powerless and debilitated. His body could take no more, and he thought that this might be the end.

Mr. Galla's survival instincts kicked in, and he managed to whisper, "Please, I beg you, stop this." His frail voice barely reached their ears, but it seemed to have some impact. Eventually, they ceased their relentless assault.

After being released from the police station, Mr. Galla sought medical attention at a nearby government hospital. The medical examination documented only minor injuries, downplaying the severe torture he had endured. He couldn't fathom why he and the other detainees had been subjected to such brutality.

Mr. Galla's life took an unexpected turn that day when he was charged with serious offenses, including sedition. He had not participated in any procession and had simply been on his way home from work. Yet, he spent approximately 25 days in jail, separated from his family.

The emotional and physical scars of that fateful night continue to haunt him. The innocent lives shattered by brutality and injustice raise important questions about the abuse of power and the need for justice to prevail. Mr. Galla's story serves as a poignant reminder of the resilience of the human spirit in the face of unimaginable adversity, and the urgent need for a fair and just society.