उनी एक कथाको (She is the Story) अबको शृङ्खलामा भिडियो कथाहरु समेट्नेछौं । हाम्रो पहिलो कथामा प्रणिका कोयूले आफ्नो कथा सुनाउनु भएको छ । प्रणिका कोयू एक उर्जाशील कवि, फरकधारका लेखक, शोधकर्ता र महिला आन्दोलनका अभियान्ताका रूपमा परिचित हुनुहुन्छ नै । धेरैलाई उनी एक आमा हुनुहुन्छ भन्ने थाहा छैन । यस कथामा उनले आफ्नो छोरा र छोरा हुर्कंदै गरेको समाजको बारेमा कुरा गर्नुहुन्छ । यो कथा उनै संघर्षशील आमा प्रणिका कोयूको हो ।
One day during class, my teacher asked, “How many of you are 10 years old? Raise your hands”. I didn’t raise my hands but I was very curious to know why. It wasn’t only me; my friends were also equally curious. Soon after, our teacher ended our curiosity. She told us that Mahakavi Laxmi Prasad Devkota had written his first poem when he was 10 years old. While she was mentioning that, there were a lot of things going inside my mind. I was only 8 years old and I was asking myself if I too was able to write a poem or not. That evening, after reaching home, I jotted down few words in a piece of paper, and recited, like a poem, to my mother. After hearing, she told me that she really liked it. I was motivated to write more and then slowly, I started to write poems, stories, and essays. My work began to get published in many different children’s magazines. This inspired me to write more.
Gradually, I was being known for my literature. When I was in school, I had already published my collection of poems and stories. I used to take part in different competitions. In the first competition, I had won the first prize and which motivated me a lot. I would normally win most of the competitions. Also, my teachers and even my mother would usually predict that I would win. Even my friends would assume that I will win the competition that I take part in. Most of the time it was inspiring but gradually I started to feel the pressure to win every competition. Later I realized that it is more important to improve your skill and build your capacity than to win the competitions.
I started to focus on how to improve my skills. I remember ever since I was little, I loved singing and humming songs. It must be because my mother sees me being happy whenever I sing. She had arranged a music class at home. As I started to learn more, I thought it would be nice to share what I had learned so far, thus, I began giving music lessons too.
Along with music, I never stopped studying and writing. Writing became a very important part of my life. Many times when I had no space to express my feelings, it was the only medium where I could vent. Maybe this is why I established an indispensable and spiritual relationship with writing.
I never had any aim in my life, I never functioned that way. That is why, apart from literature and music, I engaged myself in various different fields. My interests and my experiences are in different areas and I never thought that I need to be a master in one particular discipline.
I recall my childhood days when I think about the colorful moments of my life.
I was my mother’s first child and she was really happy. I could hear her talk but my mother was stunned when she found out that I wasn’t able to see her. I was taken to the hospital, and I was diagnosed with visual impairment. My mother was in extreme shock and it took a while for her to accept my reality.
My mother visited Tilganga hospital many times for my eye treatment. During that course, she saw a huge crowd of people who had vision impairment, and that helped her realize the scene and gradually accept the truth. The only thing that my eyes are capable of differentiating is the brightness and the darkness of day and night. After accepting my truth, my mother started to focus on how to make me more competent and more capable. She also learned how to use Braille. Throughout my learning process, she never allowed my vision impairment to be my weakness. However, because there weren’t any disability-friendly schools for people like me, we were compelled to study in a regular school.
My mother is my ultimate inspiration. It is because of her that at 22 years of age, I feel very independent. It is not only me; my family also feels the same. Earlier, my grandmother used to worry about my marriage. She would think that no one will want to marry me but now she feels that anyone will be ready to marry me.
Even though we were competent, the education system and the fact that the curriculum was not constructed keeping people like me in consideration, we felt that the exam result didn’t justify our capacity.
Though I am visually impaired, I am forced to face more challenges because I am a woman. Our society has basic rudimentary norms and principles which makes it very difficult for me to function on a daily basis. I am not only a woman but a woman with disability. If I reach home a little late or hang out with my friends, my neighbor would sneak peek and make assumptions about me or question my family. I and my mother have faced these questions several times. This is not just because I am visually impaired but more so because I am a woman who is also visually impaired.
Once you are identified as a person with disability, the way people look at you is very different.
I have observed that in our society if you are born disability, you are left for the government to look after, assuming that you are their responsibility. Even in the families, the disability are cramped within the four walls in the name of security. I do feel bad regarding their stereotypical social attitude towards me but more than that I feel really sad for them and their perspectives. I cannot forget all those moments when I cried alone. My mother was always with me during those days to encourage me. My family members and my teachers always supported me on all my decisions.
This is not just because I am visually impaired but more so because I am a woman who is also visually impaired.
While analyzing my previous days, I think it’s my interests and the choices I made that got me where I am today. I was a good student, and because of that my mother always wanted me to work in an office. Even today, she keeps insisting me to find a job. However, I always explain to her that maybe the job will keep her happy but it will not make me happy. I’ve always loved exploring various fields and learning from them.
While doing what you love, I realized that it is necessary to raise your voice about the issues concerning persons with disability. Hence, I have facilitated many different programs that were organized for disabled children with regard to their psychosocial wellbeing. It takes a lot of effort to convince the parents of children to bring them to the camp. Despite the challenges I faced, I want to continue doing what I am doing that concerns children with disability. As of now, I am giving them online classes. Today, they are able to recognize the letters and alphabets. Some of them are able to write poems and stories as well. I am really happy to witness them getting better at it. When I hear their stories, it reminds me of my childhood days. It’s not my age but my experiences that have made me mature.
I have no complaints about not being able to live my teen life. My life experiences are my learning and this learning will guide me to live the rest of my life.
While remembering my childhood, the memory that is stuck in my head is when I heard a unique, sweet rhythmic beat coming from the narrow streets. I heard it while going to school every day. Every time I hear those strange rhythmic sounds my heart would start dancing.
My ancestral house is in Jiri but my family moved to Sindhupalchowk for business. That’s where I grew up. I was sent to a government school while my brother went to a private school. I would have to walk for an hour while my brother got picked up by a bus every day. I never questioned that impartiality that was done to me rather I was thankful that I was given an opportunity to go to the school unlike other girls from the village. Life, in general, was difficult in the village. At a certain point in my childhood, we moved to Kathmandu for better livelihood possibilities.
I never questioned that impartiality that was done to me rather I was thankful that I was given an opportunity to go to the school
One day I saw a group of boys playing something which produced the same sound I would hear while going to school every day. That was the first time I saw the drums.
Girls playing musical instruments were rare. In fact, it would be considered bad-omen if women, in particular, do so. Even though there were barely any girls playing musical instruments, I didn’t let that stop me. When all the young teenage boys were forming music bands, I formed a band with the girls I played basketball with. I had no idea about music. But I knew that I wanted to become play the drum, become a drummer. After my 10th grade exams, I started taking drumming lessons. Financially it was very difficult for my mother; she still managed to save some money for my drum classes. Even though I didn’t own a drum at home, I was so passionate about it that I would put pillows in front of me as though they were drums and practice.
In the beginning, we went to learn music to show that girls can also play as boys but later on we became serious about music. After forming our band we were invited to perform at school. They asked the name of our band which we had never thought of it. One of our members, Sushma Ghalan, promptly suggested “Gorkhali Girls Band”. From that day the journey of our band started.
We started performing regularly in musical events. In many places, they would have their instruments for us to play but sometimes we were asked to bring our own instruments and we didn’t have any. So during Tihar, we played Deusi Bhailo in rich people’s neighborhoods to gather money to buy instruments.
Gradually we started getting more opportunities to play music and we started getting better and better at what we did. We were very excited when one time we were invited to play music along with 1974 AD, a pioneer pop band that was one of our sources of inspiration.
Also Watch this: Gorkhali Girls Band performing 1974 AD’s song in a TV show.
Some of my relatives would pass comments to my mother about me playing drums but she would ignore them. My mother was happy to see me happy playing drums and that was more than enough for me. Like my mother, other band member’s parents were also happy about what we were doing. A few years ago, a leading national daily newspaper featured our band. My mother was so happy that she cut out the news piece and framed it. I heard that my other band member’s parents also did the same. It was definitely a proud moment for us, the daughters.
“What do we do after we get married?”
In 2019 our band was successful to release our second song. Our band was making memories and success stories. But one question always loomed in our heads, “What do we do after we get married?” All of us are getting matured. We might get into some circumstances and need to leave a band but I believe if we are strong enough to stay stick with our vision, then we can manage it even after we get married or even in our fifties. We are slowly getting responsibility towards our families. And these responsibilities will add more as we get older. We know that we can’t sustain our life only by making music and it’s a bitter truth. We are also aware that at one point we might need to take a break from band and find jobs for a living. But we will try our best to do music along.
My aim was not to become a drummer. It is a will power that arose while growing up and experiencing gender discrimination. It was my rage against a society that thinks that man can only play music. It was an unintended zeal to do better than boys as I was treated differently for just being a girl. I still ponder about why did my brother had the privilege to go to a decent school and not me? There are deep-rooted inequalities in society and someone has to fight against them and I consider myself to be one. I know it’s not enough but even if it could change like 1 percentage then I’d consider myself successful. The change has to be done here, so since my childhood I never thought of leaving the country. I always wanted to do something in my own country, in my own community.
Now, I’m involved in the organization, named Calls Over Ridges, which works for the betterment of the education system in Nepal. I can totally see the need for a good education in our country. I remember going to the government school and the quality of education they provide. But I’m thankful to my parents for sending me to the school, at least, while dealing with so many socio-economic hardships. But I want this scene to change for the upcoming generations, especially the girls. Together with music and advocating for better education, I think I can bring some change to improve the education system of government schools.
It was my dream to study in a school but alas because of when and where I was born it remains a dream. At times, I think if I was trained to use my skills and talent and I would have been a professional today. If I had been given an opportunity, I would have achieved a lot.
I was born into a simple farming family in Nuwakot. I grew up with 6 brothers and 4 sisters in the village. We were a well-to-do family, meaning, we didn’t have difficulties in fulfilling our basic needs. We had property in the village and had to work from dawn till dusk. We couldn’t sit idly as there were a lot of household chores and plenty to do be done on the farm. My mother used to assign work to each of us every day. Some days tending the herd, and other days help out on the farm.
She believed that if girls were educated,
they would elope and run away with boys.
When I was old enough, I found out that my parents weren’t happy when I was born. Normally, babies are born after 9 months, but in my case, I was born after 12 months. Thus, they didn’t find me auspicious. My father had then come to Kathmandu to meet an astrologer and find some solution. Apparently, the astrologer had told my father that I was auspicious and if I were taught how to read and write, I would have a bright future. Influenced by this, my father wanted me to be educated and admitted me to a school. But it didn’t last for too long. In a matter of days of me joining the school, my mother put a stop to it. She believed that if girls were educated, they would elope and run away with boys. I cried for the first couple of days but I had no choice.
While I was grazing the animals, and herding them to areas of good forage, my uncle’s daughters used to go to school. I really wanted to go to school; I even tried to hurt myself with the hope that they would send me. One-day, while preparing animal feed, I tried to burn myself. I still have the burn scars. No matter what I did though, my desire to go to school was never fulfilled.
One day my father brought me to Kathmandu. He had said it was to meet a brother but turned out, he actually got me here to get me married. He introduced me to all my new family members. Considering my father’s decision, I agreed to get married at 18 years.
After my marriage, even though I was free to do things I wanted to, I still couldn’t. I would be busy all-day, farming, and doing chores. My husband was studying then and my father-in-law used to work in a bank. His salary alone was hardly sufficient for my husband’s education. I did a lot of household work at my parent’s home, but I had no idea how to run a household. We had a lot of financial troubles, so I started working outside my home for some extra money. After finishing my household chores, I would do labor for others.
I earned Rs. 3 after working for an entire day.
Five years after my marriage, I gave birth to my eldest son. Soon after he was born, I started cattle farming. It was my uncle who advised me to do cattle farming. Although I was really keen to start cattle farming, I couldn’t because of my financial situation. A few days later, my uncle bought me cows with his own money. I was so happy. My father-in-law helped me sell whatever little milk we got.
I wanted to add more cows but I had no money. I then remembered that my father had once mentioned giving me Rs. 10,000. I went to visit my parents with the hope that they would give me the money. After a lot of crying and explaining, my father finally agreed. I bought cows with that money and started saving. Anything I saved; I began investing in the cattle. From 2 cows to 4 cows, 4 to 6, so on and so forth, I started to set goals and build my own confidence.
After my firstborn, I gave birth to another son and a daughter. I was really happy to give birth to a daughter. I wasn’t able to get an education, solely because I was a daughter. I had promised myself that I would send my daughter to a good school without any discrimination. Those days it wasn’t an easy task to send my 3 children to a private school, but I was determined. Our financial situation was so weak that when my son had once asked me for Rs 5 for lunch, I wasn’t even able to give him that money. Even though I wasn’t able to give them enough food, I was very careful about their education. My husband was working at a bank then, but since he was stationed outside of Kathmandu, I never asked him for any money. I managed everything with whatever little money I made.
One of those days, I had heard about some training on agriculture and cattle farming being given to women. I wasn’t able to directly participate in the training, but I got a job to deliver snacks during the training. They were teaching about agriculture and cattle farming when I got there to deliver the food. I would sit there for an hour and listen. The next meeting, I organized at my own house so I could participate and during this meeting, they taught us how women can be independent and how things can be in our favor once we were independent. I got even more confident after this training.
I came to know about the “Aama Samuha” through this training and I also got actively involved in it. Aama Samuha later brought a goat farming program to our village as well and all of us got 2 goats in our name. 4 of my friends who didn’t want goats gave me their goats and I ended up with 10 goats. I was very confident that my financial situation would get better with 4 cows and 10 goats.
However, things never turn out the way we plan. All the goats died the very next day I got them home. All my dreams of being finically independent were shattered. Nevertheless, I didn’t give up. I collected all my friends in the village and started an inquiry. I handed over a written application along with the inquiry report to the Aama Samuha. After the hearing, the Aama Samuha again granted me money to buy 10 goats. Within 2 years, I was successful in returning 10 goats back to the Samuha. Turns out I had a net profit of Rs. 22,000 after returning those 10 goats. With that money, I made a gold ring.
I cannot explain how happy I was that day
when I made that gold ring with my own money.
Along with all this, I had also done some vegetable farming. Because our house and our farm were on the hill, we faced many water-related issues. During monsoon, we had very little vegetables and besides that, I really didn’t know how to transport these vegetables to the bazaar. Fortunately, one of my neighbors taught me how to take the vegetables to the bazaar and sell them. Keeping aside all the bad ones at home, I used to sell good vegetables. After getting home, my elder son would help me with the calculations. Most of the time, there wouldn’t be enough money. Because I was always very weak at math, my son sent me to adult education classes.
I would finish all my chores at home and go to the classes in the evening. After 6 months of learning, it became a lot easier for me to do the calculations. Every time I would sit down to do the calculations with a pen in my hand, it felt as if my long-awaited dream of education had finally come true.
With my savings, I made cow sheds and 3 tunnels. Slowly, I hired helpers to help me with cattle farming and to sell the milk. Now I have 11 cows. Apart from cattle farming, vegetable farming is also doing good. I am no longer a farmer; I am a businesswoman. I pay 25,000 rupees every month to each of my helpers. To this day, many women have to explain their earnings to their husbands. But I never have to explain anything. I can spend or use my money, my way. I am an independent woman.
Nowadays, everyone tells me to stop working and to rest at home but I cannot, my heart doesn’t let me. I want to expand my cattle farming and vegetable farming business even more. Many of us here in Nepal, look for jobs abroad, and leave the country for foreign employment. Instead of working in a foreign land for someone else, it’s wiser to work in your own field. The chances of becoming successful are a lot better.
Look around, explore, and recognize your own opportunities and work hard. Your hard work will definitely pay off.
***
There was a time when, because of her, I would sit in a corner of a room and cry. But, lately the smallest changes in her, brings me a lot of joy. Also, sometimes I feel very proud of myself because I was able to recognize her at a proper time. It is because of her that today the story of my life has turned around.
I have always wanted to live independently. So, as soon as I was done with high school, I came to Kathmandu from Lahan to pursue my further studies. Even till today I can vividly remember my college days. I never wanted to depend on anyone and so just after I completed my BBA I started to work at “Kohinoor Housing Center”. I was able to sustain myself with my earnings and I also enrolled myself for a Masters course. I got married soon after. I started to work at Siddhartha Finance after my marriage and both my marital life and career was going smoothly. Three years after our marriage, we decided to have a baby. We were really happy when we conceived successfully. Like any other mother, who dreams of what she would do for her baby and how she would raise the child, I too began to have a lot of dreams for my child. I wanted to raise my child to be independent and instead of pressuring her to become a doctor or an engineer, I wanted her to be whatever it is that she wanted to be. I had a little dream to be known because of her. Nine months after dreaming every possible dream for my child, I gave birth to my beautiful daughter. Few months after her arrival, I slowly went back to my normal routine. I was fulfilling my role sometimes as a wife, sometimes a mother and other times as an employee.
In 2015, my daughter was 14 months old when we had a massive earthquake in our country. I still remember that she was asleep and I had cried endlessly when I carried her during the earthquake. After that, I had left my daughter at my mother’s place. Four months later I brought her back envisioning all wonderful possibilities. However, as they say, life is never how you imagine it to be. I felt that there was a huge difference in her behavior. She preferred to stay alone, she didn’t interact with anyone, it looked as if she was really hurt. I started to get worried. I assumed that maybe her fear of earthquake was still there and that’s why she was behaving that way, or maybe because I kept her away from me for a long time and hence she was behaving like that? I started questioning myself a lot.
How can a mother possibly be okay with any of that?
I too wanted to see my daughter laughing and playing
like any other normal child.
I started to research. I realized that I have to spend good amount of time with her. I even consulted with my brother who is also a doctor. While researching, I came across a word – autism. This word was very new to me. I knew nothing about it. I was advised to meet and consult with another doctor. During my first meet itself, the doctor said that she has symptoms of autism. I got even more stressed. There wasn’t much information about autism in Nepal during those days. I consulted with many doctors looking for its cure. It got so tiring and I lost my hope. Surprisingly, Autism Care Nepal brought back my hopes. Without any further delay, I took my daughter to that organization. After careful and thorough inspection, the special educator there finally concluded that she did have autism. But, her treatment could take some time. She was only 18 months old then and so I was advised to wait for a while. It was so disappointing. He was a special educator so he spoke in the medical terms but I am mother. How can a mother possibly be okay with any of that? I too wanted to see my daughter laughing and playing like any other normal child. I didn’t want to wait any longer. My entire life was upside down. All I could see was just my daughter. I didn’t want to lose even a single day for her treatment. I thought that autism is also like any other disease, that the sooner treatment started, the sooner it would be cured. I was confident that I will take her anywhere in the world for her treatment. No one in Nepal was really able to explain to me what autism really is. I always thought that if she’s provided with proper treatment she will be perfectly fine and so, I never stopped my research.
After a while I found out that my aunt’s child was also autistic. They were in Kochi, India for the treatment. Me and my husband discussed about the treatment in India and decided to take our daughter. I really didn’t have to think much whether or not I should resign from my work then. I just wanted my daughter to get better. The next day after my resignation, we took our daughter to India. We stayed there for four months. The heat and the weather of India didn’t suit my daughter’s health and she often fell sick. We had to admit her to a hospital instead of the therapy center. In Kochi, they only communicate either in Malayalam or in English. Our daughter was small and didn’t speak either of the languages so communications became a major issue during her therapy sessions. During our four months stay there, she was only able to get a month’s therapy. There were not much changes in her so we decided to get her back to Nepal.
We didn’t know where in Nepal we could take her for a proper treatment. To make her a little more active, I started to give her therapy at home with whatever I knew. While researching, I came across National Institute of Psycho Educational Counseling. I took her there and started the therapy sessions. I noticed few changes in her and I was hopeful again. Along with my daughter’s therapy session, the counselor there also started to counsel me. I used to think that my daughter is disabled but after careful analysis, I understood that she was differently able. We then slowly began to accept her for who she is and when that happened we could feel that she was also happier. Earlier, she would be terrified even to cross a small path and now she can walk across big roads. I still remember the day when she called us mother and father. I felt like we had won it all. I was so happy that I couldn’t stop crying. Even now sometimes when she is playing, she would randomly blabber these words – mummy and daddy. I realize that it will take a long time to bring changes in her. We have to teach her in the way that’s more comfortable for her. Clearly, this is not the easy way but it’s not impossible.
I do feel very sad but at the same time I am also happy that because of her, I am learning new things.
Whenever I had to go out, parties or gatherings, I never used to bring my child along with me thinking that it would be very difficult to manage her. I used to drop her at my brother’s place. Later, when I understood what autism is and her behaviors, I now take her with me, every place I go. Once she started to spend time with these groups, she began to understand our world. It takes a little time for her but it’s not like she doesn’t understand. Hence, these days I only go out when it’s feasible for me and my daughter. My family and my friends are very understanding and that’s why they organize any gathering according to our feasibility. I have noticed that many other parents who have autistic children find it difficult to bring their child in social gatherings. But, I think these children should be brought in social gatherings and slowly they will learn to adjust.
I have to pay special attention to my daughter. This is the major difference between us and mothers who have “normal” children. No matter what, we cannot be as free as other mothers. Autistic children have a different world than ours. My daughter’s therapy starts at the beginning of my day. My daughter is now six and a half years old. I need to help her to go to the toilet and brush her teeth. After a lot of therapy, she can now eat on her own. Other children can learn many things by themselves but she couldn’t. I need to teach her in a symbolic way which she can understand well. After finishing my household chores, I prepare her to do her exercise according to the schedule of her school. I spend my days mentoring her to do her exercises and playing with her.
Every one suffers and it’s that suffering which will teach you a lot about life. Sometimes I used to feel sad because of my autistic daughter but it is only because of her, I have so many positive changes in me. I am very glad for that. I used to very reserved person. I never could talk to people quickly and openly and I lacked confidence. Now, because of her, I can speak with confidence. When I first started taking my daughter to the therapy center, she used to happily run towards her therapist – Sarita maam. She was happier with her mam than with me. That made me feel very bad. Therefore, I started to talk to her caretakers. I observed how they used to interact with her. Then slowly, I got closer to my daughter.
Now, she is my friend and I am hers.
In many cases, women feel bad because after having a child, they cannot continue to work on their careers. But, when I look at myself, I feel I have learned a lot and achieved a lot as well. I find myself a lot different than other mothers. I think I have gained all the skills required to look after autistic children and would like to work with them on a professional level one day when my daughter is a bit more grown. I am really proud of my daughter and who she turned me into.
If I am sad today, it’s because of my past and not because of my present. I get chills even when I think of those days. Only I know the horrifying situations I have been through to be where I am today. I have to clear my throat first, when someone asks me about my past life. Tears roll down my eyes before I say anything. I wished I didn’t have to remember anything.
I and my brother grew up in this city, even though our ancestral home isn’t here. Our parents migrated here in search for jobs and hence we both had a rather modern city lifestyle; however, I believe in true sense my life only started after I got married at 24.
With the beginning of my new life,
it was the end of my student life.
I couldn’t continue my education and all my dreams.
It is very unnatural in our community to be not married when your younger cousins are already married, so my parents arranged my marriage to a man from our village and who they believed belonged to a good family. I still remember that day very clearly. I was at Indrachowk when my parents called me home ASAP. My marriage was fixed with someone I had never seen, never spoken, not even once. The man wanted to talk to be in privacy and the first question he had asked was whether I had a boyfriend? I was already nervous, and it just got worse. Slowly, I replied saying I don’t have any boyfriend. Again, he said, “Make sure this will not be the reason for any of our marital issues.” to which I replied that he can be rest assured that I will not cause any kind of issues. After this our marriage was confirmed. The initial plan was to get married after my 12th exams but I don’t know how, my marriage happened first. Instead of me studying and preparing for my exams, I was running around shopping for my marriage. I got married. My parents were happy that I got married and I was happy because they were happy.
I had to stay up to midnight fulfilling my role as a newlywed daughter-in-law of the house. Next morning, as a student, I went to give my final exam. As a result, with the beginning of my new life, it was the end of my student life. I couldn’t continue my education and all my dreams.
Even though my parents weren’t rich, they always kept me and my brother happy. Maybe because they loved us so much, it didn’t really matter to us when we had to borrow old books from our seniors in schools while our classmates would buy new books, every new batch. I grew up with abundant love from my parents but within a week of my marriage I came to realize the difference between a daughter and a daughter in law. I hadn’t cried so much even during my wedding, but soon after a week till the day I lived in that house, I never stopped crying.
To be honest, that wasn’t my first time at the station.
He had been arrested many times under domestic violence.
I still remember from the first week of our marriage, my husband used to leave me at night. I know why he didn’t come home and when I had asked, the tight slap I got; that was the first time. That was the day when it had all started. From there on in, I don’t remember how many times I got slapped, kicked, mistreated; I have lost count. But I remember wearing a shawl to cover the marks on my face. I didn’t use to come to my parents’ house fearing that they would find about all of that. I never told my mother that every day I used to get beaten up by my husband and that I wanted to kill myself. Instead of troubling my parents, my concern was always about fixing everything. To protect my parents from all the social stigmas, no matter how much physically and mentally tortured I was, I never told my parents about anything. There was this one Dashain, my husband didn’t come with me to my parents’ house to receive blessings. My mother kept asking me about his whereabouts. I had told my husband that I have not told anything to my parents and come over, but he didn’t. He didn’t even answer my calls. After around 50 calls or so, he finally answered. I tired to save my relationship many times, but we all know it takes two to build a relationship. Even though I hadn’t mentioned anything to my parents, I don’t know how they figured it out. After that, both families decided to sit down and discuss. No one supported me. I had a little hope that maybe my mother in law would support me, but why would she support me instead of supporting her son? Needless to say, things weren’t going well after all that, and then suddenly one day he began to argue and demanded for a divorce. I told my parents and we went to the police station. To be honest, that wasn’t my first time at the station. He had been arrested many times under domestic violence, but I don’t know how he would be released the very next day. However, this time my purpose of going to the station was different. With everyone’s advice I wanted to file a divorce. I didn’t even take any alimony. I just got divorced. I got my freedom back.
“I am free, but where will I go?” was now my new concern. I rented a room. One day the landlady came to me and asked me about my husband. I lied and I said he’s away, will be back in few days. After few days she again came asking where my husband is. When I told her that my husband isn’t here, I was immediately asked to leave the room. I didn’t have a place to go and I was all confused. After I shared my situation with my parents, they asked me to come live with them. Later while leaving the room I found out that it was my sister in law who had come and told the landlord that I was divorced, I didn’t have any money and couldn’t possibly pay the rent. That was the actual reason why I was asked to leave that room.
I again went back to my parents’ house. I worried that my relatives would talk behind my back and cause stress to my parents. The whole thing started eating me up. Even though my parents never showed any sign of stress in front of me, it was very evident. I could easily read their faces. Most importantly, my father is a taxi driver and he was looking after all of us (me, my sick mother and my brother). I really didn’t want to add any extra burden to them. Hence, I went looking for jobs. I used to work even while I was studying so I had fair amount of experience. Finally, I got a job at a shop in Asan and started contributing at home.
I wanted to move ahead in life instead of looking behind. I wanted to completely forget those few years after my marriage. To be honest, I never loved the man I had married then. One day I had seen him walking across the shop I was working at; I cried a lot that day. I didn’t cry because I loved him, but because of the pain that he had given me. I decided I wanted to go abroad and with the help from few people at my workplace, I started my visa process. I went Dubai on a cleaning visa. My work was alright. I used to feel very happy when I sent money back home to my parents. New place, new friends, new experience; it was all ok. My job was better since I had a bit more education than most of my colleagues so I got more facility than a normal migrant worker but I would see my colleagues suffer. They had to work long hours, couldn’t go out, eat what they wanted to, etc and that made me sad.
I made some good friends in Dubai. In a way, I was actually just beginning to live my life. One day a friend told me that an Indian likes me. She asked me if I wanted to be introduced to him. I was surprised as to where do this come from. When in Nepal, I had married a man my parents thought was a good fit for me. Even then I was betrayed. Why would I believe some foreigner in a foreign land after all that I had been? I rejected him instantly. Next day my friend came to me again and suggested that he’s a good man. I still didn’t agree to the proposal, but finally agreed to be friends with him. We started talking on the phone. Gradually, I began to feel a little closer to him. He asked me out. I was truly very scared to go out with him. I had heard of all these terrible incidents happen to other Nepali girls. I was worried the entire time. He had brought me many clothes and lots of things. But I was very scared to use it, so I would give it all to my other friends. We continued talking on the phone and went out many times. I began noticing how he cared for me, took me to places I liked, brought me things I liked, etc and because of such behavior I got closer to him. Then one day, I told him everything about my past. I also told him that I don’t want to be hurt anymore and it’s better if we went our separate ways. To my surprise he said that he doesn’t really care about my past. We then decided to live together. After some time, we got married. We were living a happy life.
I hadn’t told my parents about my marriage yet. I thought that I should tell my mother at least. She was really angry once I told her about it but again, I thought probably she will feel better. I got pregnant and I had to come home because as migrant workers we don’t have the right to maternity in UAE. So, I called my parents and told him. I guess my father had figured out about my marriage even though I hadn’t said anything to him. He had come to pick me up at the airport. I told him that I can’t go home because mother is upset. Even after several attempts of him convincing me to go home, I didn’t give in. He finally dropped me at one of my friends’ place.
I gave birth to a daughter. Everyone was happy. Looking at the way my husband cared for me, my parents also felt very glad. They also accepted him as my husband and he finally came to Nepal to visit them.
After a while, I decided to go back to Dubai to work. We left our daughter here with my parents. I was working for a company that cooks meals for airlines. The work was good, but because of COVID we were returned back. It wasn’t that bad initially but the number kept increasing. For 3 months, the company fed us and paid our salaries. Everyone slowly started to return back home. I was worried about the quarantine facility and arrangements in Nepal. There wasn’t any good news about it. In fact, I was worried what if I get the virus while at quarantine. Nevertheless, I was put in a camp in Kirtipur and it wasn’t that bad as I had anticipated. It was well organized. We were 8 of us in one camp. We all had separate beds. After staying in quarantine for 13 days and after analyzing our medical reports, we were sent back home.
It is now a complete lockdown. My father hasn’t been driving his taxi because of which we don’t have any income, very obvious. Whatever little savings me and my father had, we spent it during the lockdown. Now we are worried how will be handle our expenses and take care of mother’s medical bill. I can’t tell my husband for I know there isn’t any income. “How do we survive?” is our worry. We don’t have any solution but still I have not given up. There will be some solution. I think all that confidence and bravery I have in me is from my mother. I have inherited that from her. My mother taught me not to worry during bad days and in fact be brave and fight against it. My mother is my hero. As long as my hero is with me, I believe we will overcome this struggle too.
***
When I was studying in grade 8, I joined the Maoist Movement.
I imagined a just nation where no one had to face any problems. This is why many of us were attracted to the movement. I was ready to die for the cause. ‘If my death makes my country better then it’s not a big deal for me to die’, these types of patriotic thoughts directed people towards the movement. The thought that poor people will get food to eat, no-one needs to face caste and class discrimination, and women will not be oppressed and get the same rights as men; all these ideas motivated me to join the movement.
We had to be fit and well-trained. Biologically women are different than men but the training in our camps was the same both for male and female combatants. It was all about being courageous and breaking your mental barriers. We did everything that men would do. We would fight furiously at the forefront of the battles. Many of my friends became martyrs. I am one of the lucky ones who survived death.
I was born and raised as a child of a poor farmer in Faparbari, Makwanpur. Life in a village is difficult compared to the city. I could only go to school after finishing my household chores. I had no big dreams about what I wanted out of life. I don’t think I was ever taught to dream – rather to just accept my fate and live my life which would be filled with struggles. But I loved singing from a very young age. When I heard songs on the radio or television, I tried to copy and sing correctly. I would practice for ages.
During the movement, our life was tough. We would walk all night; sometimes from the hills to the terai. While walking we carried our musical instruments and food. We would stop in villages and stay with the villagers. We sang progressive songs, danced, and performed dramas. Our art was what inspired people to join the movement. Many people joined the movement, many supported. I think it was possible only because of this soulful artist’s front.
We would reach remote and far away villages. Our songs spoke of people’s sufferings. That’s how most people connected to us. Our songs work like medicine to their wounds of poverty and state of being. And many times it would work like an appeal to support the movement. We’d walk these downtrodden villages everywhere, throughout the country. We would walk from Tamang villages to the Chepang habitats. We would reach Thami villages and Dalit settlements. While traveling to all these areas, one thing I remember vividly is that – the nature of poverty and state oppression was exactly the same regardless of their geographical differences.
People in these villages and settlements welcomed us wholeheartedly. We went in there like a messenger and left as a family member. In some villages, our whole team would have to leave abruptly due to army patrol and raids. We’d run from those villages and sleep in the middle of the jungle. Wartime days were tough but they were worth it.
It was after the peace agreement that our leaders failed to protect us and the overall artists’ role became weaker. There was scarcity in the artist’s front but the leaders did not care. They would not directly tell us but their behavior showed that they didn’t need artists anymore. Many artists went back to their previous lifestyle of farming but many left for the Gulf countries in search of work.
Many of those who left to go abroad for work have returned home empty-handed. They still have that fury inside them against the system and the leaders. They say, ‘Even after all these years, things haven’t changed.’ I feel for them. I know the level of anger they must have inside them towards the leaders who failed to guide or protect them. The rising inequality and mass poverty that still exists in our country are unimaginable. Instead of working to increase our living standards, our leaders have turned to middlemen and mafias who constantly exploit their own population for labor, money, and resources.
We were very young then; maybe around 13 or 14 years old. But we weren’t naïve. We knew what we were getting into. All our socio-economic struggles in the village left no other options to fight for change. We wanted a drastic change in our system and that was the only reason why youth like me participated in the movement.
However, in our country, change has only been limited to words. Few words have changed here and there, but the situation of the country and its people hasn’t changed much.
After the peace process, I decided to continue my education. I completed my bachelor’s degree in journalism along with focusing on music lessons.
I started working at various radio stations. Though I was busy doing journalism, I wanted to engage myself more in music. So, I started networking with people in the music scene. Gradually I started to go to studios and getting offers for performing live. I got an opportunity to sing a song in a Tamang movie. In 2014, I released my first solo music album ‘Rahar’.
I was becoming more of a commercial singer. I had to, to sustain myself. At times, I wondered how my former comrades would see me in this commercial world. And at times, I wondered how my new audience would react if they find out about my communist background. Gradually both my comrades and audiences seem to pretty much accept the reality of who I am now.
After releasing albums and going around the world to perform, I’m still giving my best to create more opportunities and to preserve my existence in the musical world. I feel blessed to have supportive audiences and Chandra Kumar Dong and Maila Lama, my uncles, who inspired me a lot to continue.
Being a musician, I am trying my best to raise awareness in society through music. That’s what we did being a part of the musical front during the war. Now, all those memories of the war feel surreal.
***
मलाई घरमा बस्दा एकदम नरमाईलो लागेको छ । लकडाउन हुनु भन्दा पहिला नै इन्डिया जाने प्लान बनाएका थियौं तर जाने भन्दा भन्दै लकडाउन भयो । त्यसपछि जान पाएनौं । अब त मलाई डर लागीरहेछ हामी कहिले इन्डिया जान पाउँछौ कि पाउदैनौं भनेर ? मेरो हजुरआमा यहि बिचमा बिरामी हुनुहुन्छ । डर झन बढेको छ उहाँलाई निको हुन्छ की नाई ? धेरै बिरामी हुनुभयो भने यो बेला हस्पिटल लान पनि गाह्रो छ । कोरोना भन्दा पनि मलाई यस्तै अन्य कुराले बढी सताई रहेको छ ।
लकडाउन पछि म बिहान ७ बजे उठ्छु । फ्रेस हुन्छु, चिया पकाउँछु, भाईहरुलाई खुवाउँछु अनि आफु पनि खाईसके पछी भाईहरुलाई पढाउँछु । १० बजे तिर ममीले खाना पकाईसकेको हुनुहुन्छ । सबै परिवारसँगै बसेर खाना खान्छौं । ममी भान्सा सफा गर्नुहुन्छ । भाई र म लुडो खेल्दै टि ।भि । र्हेछौं । त्यस पछि म पढ्छु ।
अब यो लकडाउन खुल्छ की खुल्दैन?
के हुेने हो?
दिनदिनै चिन्ता बढी रहेको छ
अन्य धेरै स्कूलहरुको त अनलाईन क्लास भईरा’छ । हाम्रो स्कूलमा त अनलाईन क्लासको व्यवस्था पनि छैन । अब स्कूल खुल्छ की खुल्दैन त्यो पनि थाहा छैन । मलाई पढाई के हुने हो ? भनेर धेरै चिन्ता लागीरा’छ । लकडाउन कै बिचमा हाम्रो त रिजल्ट आयो । म पास भएँ । मलाई एकदम खुशी लाग्यो । तर एस ।ई ।ई । को त परिक्षा पनि भएको छैन । उनीहरुलाई कस्तो धेरै चिन्ता परेको होला ? उनीहरुको परिक्षा हुन्छ कि हुँदैना भन्दाअ भन्दाइ उनिहरुलाई परिक्षा नै लिन नपर्ने भन्ने समाचार पढें । हाम्रो अनलाईन कक्षा हुन्छ कि हुँदैन ? हाम्रो स्कूल खुल्छ कि खुल्दैन सोच्दा सोच्दा अब के हुने हो ? भन्ने डर लागिरहन्छ ।
ममी बाबाले हामीलाई चोकमा समेत जान दिनु हुँदैन । कोही साथिहरुलाई भेट्न पनि पाएको छैन । यो कोरोनाले गर्दा मलाई कस्तो चिन्ता भईरा’छ । अब यो लकडाउन खुल्छ की खुल्दैन? के हुेने हो? दिनदिनै चिन्ता बढी रहेको छ । घरमा बस्दा राम्रोसँग खान पनि पाएको छैन । मेरो बाबालाई धेरै चिन्ता भईरा’छ । लकडाउन अगाडि मेरो बाबा फुटपाथमा लुगा बेच्नु हुन्थ्यो । अब त्यो पनि बेच्न दिँदैन । हामीलाई धेरै समस्या भईरा’छ । लकडाउन धेरै लम्बियो भने के खाने होला ? भनेर बाबा धेरै चिन्ता गर्नुहुन्छ । मलाई एकदम नरमाईलो लाग्छ बाबालाई देखेर ।
कक्षा ९
कान्तिईश्वरी मा.वि. प्याफल
***
I don’t like staying at home. We had plans of travelling to India before the lockdown, but the lockdown happened and we couldn’t go. Now I have this fear whether or not we will able to go to India ever again? My grandmother is also not keeping well. I am really worried about her health condition. What if it gets worse? How will we take her to the hospital? I am actually more concerned about other issues as compared to Corona.
These days, I wake up around 7 in the morning; make tea and breakfast for my brothers and myself. My mother prepares lunch and it’s normally ready by 10 in the morning. We all have our lunch together after which I play ludo and watch television with my brother. After that, I study.
Many other schools have organized online classes but since I go to a government school, our school doesn’t have an online facility. I don’t know if the school will reopen again or not. I am really worried about my studies. I got my 9th-grade exams’ result during this lockdown period. I was really happy that I passed my exams, but the National Board Exams (SEE) are still pending. I guess all the SEE students must be very worried about their exams. I don’t know whether the SEE exams will be conducted or not. I think a lot about all these things and I tend to get worried.
My parents don’t allow us out at all, not even to go to the main road. I haven’t been able to meet any of my friends either. I am really distressed because of this corona. I wonder if this lockdown will ever ease up and my stress is also increasing day by day. We have not been able to eat properly as well. My father is really stressed. Before the lockdown, my father used to sell clothes on the streets, and now he can’t even sell that. He keeps wondering what will we do if the lockdown keeps extending and how will we survive? I feel really bad looking when I see him in such a state.
May 24th 2020
I can only imagine how happy my family members must have been when I was born. I was the first grandchild to be born in my house. A Laxmi is born, someone must have said. In an extended family, led by grandparents, I must say that I definitely grew up pampered. But I wasn’t spoilt. At a very early age, I had started to take care of all my younger siblings.
We grew up playing in the little courtyard of our house in Dhokatole, Kathmandu. I had to be my sibling’s parent and friend at the same time. We’d play, study and eat together. I remember, each lunch and dinner was like a feast. Fifteen family members eating at the same time turned any ordinary meal into a Newar jho-bhwe style feast. My mother and aunties would prepare food and I’d help them by going to the market, buying vegetables and essentials.
Looking back, I’d say that my family was not that conservative when it came to educating the girl child. I was sent to the neighborhood girls-only school where I completed my school leaving certificate. I also completed my intermediate from Shankar Dev Campus. My brothers and cousins went to co-ed schools. Back in those days, parents would worry about their girls ‘reputation’. They believed that educating girls too much would make them ‘spoilt’ – their way to describe independent women those days. I was a decent student and doing well with my studies. I had plans to enroll into a bachelor’s study.
But I raised my concern over my study –
they said I could continue it after my marriage.
Meanwhile, a wedding proposal arrived from a well-to-do family. One evening, I was taken to the market in the pretext of buying clothes for Dashain. But the motive was that the man would get to see his probable wife-to-be. I had no choice of agreeing or disagreeing to it. But in my head, I was clear that I should focus on my studies. 
My birth astrological chart was taken to match with his. It matched perfectly they said. We weren’t raised to question our elders. In those days, you could not even raise your eyebrows to your parents. The wedding got fixed. But I raised my concern over my study – they said I could continue it after my marriage.
I was just 19 years old when I got married and moved from one giant family to another. I felt everything emotionally that a 19 years old ambitious girl would think to be sent to another family all of a sudden. I can’t even express the level of anxiety, pressure, embarrassment, nervousness that I had on those days.
I became another hand to help in the chores of this new unfamiliar house. I became another assistant in the kitchen where they’d cook food for another big family. I got scared to see the rice-cooker my in-laws would be cooking rice in. I remember the first day in the kitchen quivering until I finished making cauliflower curry for them. Although I grew up in a big family, I never had to cook at home. I would often make mistakes. Miscalculating portions, adding less or more salt, under or over-cooking kept happening. Gradually I got accustomed to it and life in the big kitchen got normal.
True to their word, my in-laws let me join college for my bachelor’s. I’d wake up in the morning at 4am to not miss any classes. I’d try to focus on my studies in-between my family responsibilities. Regardless of having too much chores to do, I completed my bachelor’s. I promptly enrolled myself into a Master’s program as well but I got pregnant and gave birth. A girl. Laxmi is born in the house, someone had said. After the child, it became impossible to continue my education. I had completed a semester of the Master’s program too but that went in vain. 6 years passed being a mother and then we had another baby. This time a girl child again, but not a definite Laxmi this time. Some of my in-laws were not that happy with a second girl child. I heard them saying “Oh no, not a girl again!”
But it didn’t matter to me. What mattered most, was my husband being happy about it. I knew I would be forced to have another child and try for a boy next time. Various nonchalant ways of putting pressure on me didn’t stop. Right then, my husband got transferred to Pokhara to work in the industrial estate, in a bakery factory. In one hand, it was a blessing to stop being pressured to have another child, on the other hand – I’d have to leave my families behind. We moved with two girls, one was only six-months new, to this new city to start our livelihood from scratch, with heavy hearts far away from all familiar faces. It took me a couple of months to get used to life in the new city but I adapted. Slowly my kids adapted too.
Years passed, we upgraded from our bakery factory into the restaurant business. I had both my children going to one of the best school in the city. I wanted them to get better education than me under any circumstances. Amidst all those days of business going up and down, we made sure their education wasn’t hindered. Today, both my girls have completed their bachelors and are successfully working in their respective fields. And I’m sure they’ll pursue an even higher level of education soon, unlike their mother.
Big utensils, same big rice-cookers, lots of food and vegetables.
It is a nostalgia I’m living in here even after so many years
of leaving my born place.
My husband and I own a chain of restaurants now. I am a supervisor in the cafeteria of Manipal Teaching Hospital. I make sure the food provided in there is healthy. I overlook and take care of 70 staff members who help us run the business. I feed doctors and nurses nutritious food so they can take care of others. But even today, after all these years, whenever I go into the kitchen, I feel like a small kid peeking into the kitchen of my house. Big utensils, same big rice-cookers, lots of food and vegetables. It is a nostalgia I’m living in here even after so many years of leaving my born place. It’s sentimental how I see my regular customers as my family members sharing their food experiences. I listen to their compliments and grievances about our food. I answer them, “not everyone has the same taste, we’ll make sure to match up to yours next time,” like I’d answer to my in-laws back in my Kathmandu home.
I never thought I would be in a position of leadership, entrepreneurship, and independence as I am now. After I was married off so young, I thought my life would be spent inside the 4 walls of my house. But here I am, successfully leading an army of staff. I’m 52 now. If I have to define life, I’d say – Life is like a hot-and-sour soup. It’s filled with sweet and spicy memories together. You keep stirring and sipping it, once spoon at a time. At times I step back and appreciate the life I have today, blessed with a supportive husband and two aspiring girls. Aspired to become ‘spoilt’ women – their way to describe independent women these days.
***
Laxmi – a hindu goddess of wealth.
Jho-bhwe – a traditional feast where people sit on the floor and eat.
Dashain – a hindu festival.
Pokhara – a lake city in the western Nepal.
I was born in Hasuliya village of Kailali district in Far Western Nepal. I am a Tharu – indigenous to the land where I was born. I grew up with my mother, grandmother and two younger brothers. My father was one of the founding member of then Nepal Communist Party (Maoist) in Kailali district. I have a vague memory of him. I remember him staying far from our home and would visit us at times. The army and police would often come to our house looking for my father. Not been able to find him, the authorities would give us all a very hard time. He stopped coming home that often. After a while he went underground.
My father had a pharmacy. We don’t know when and how he got involved in the communist party, the then banned outfit. After both my father and uncle joined the party and left home, my grandfather took over the responsibilities of our home. My grandfather was a peasant. He had to struggle a lot to make sure I got educated.
The Nepal army would come and torture us all quite frequently. One day, the police took my grandfather and beat him inhumanely. He died with his severely wounded body as he wasn’t taken to the hospital on time. After his death, my family went through major financial crisis. My mother and grandmother did not know how to read or write. They only spoke our native Tharu language and did not speak Nepali. Due to the immense stress they couldn’t work much. But somehow, they managed to continue sending me to school.
On June 11th, 2001 we got informed by the party that my father died in an incident. We never saw his dead body. The Maoist party completed his funeral and lots of people told me that they saw my father’s dead body but I still don’t believe it. I feel that one day he will return home. I keep seeing him in my dreams too.
After a few months, my uncle was also brutally killed by the police force in one of the raids. He had also joined the underground party. Basically he had no choice than to join the party because of all the torture he would get from the authorities for being a brother of a Maoist. We did not see his dead body either. His wife was pregnant at the time.
Life became very difficult for us. The ten years long People’s War engulfed all the breadwinners of my family; my grandfather, my father and my uncle.
I used to be a very good student as a child but after losing my family members I stopped focusing on my studies. My entire family went through severe depression. Three women in my family lost their husbands in a short span of time, one after another. My friends stopped playing with me because my father was labelled a terrorist. Our society literally stopped interacting with our family. We were socially outlawed. All the remaining members of our family went through mental and physical trauma.
When my father was still alive he told me a few things. His dream was to change the system. He would tell me how the Tharu people have been historically oppressed in Nepal. He made me understand the concept of Kamaiya and Kamlari practices. He showed me how we were discriminated against through the food we eat. In my childhood, it was humiliating when someone called us rat-eaters.
My father and uncle dreamt of federalism, of creating a Tharuwaan state for the Tharu people. Now, after all those years, the same Maoists are part of the government but still the Tharu people are oppressed every single day.
My father published a monthly magazine “Muktik Dagar” (means: a freedom path) with revolutionary songs, poems, and articles in Tharu language. During the war times, people would get arrested for just having that magazine in their house. People would immediately dump or burn it in fear of police raids. After my father’s death it stopped being published. I still remember many soulful revolutionary poems and articles published on that magazine.
After years of struggle, I also started becoming very politically active in 2005. I was actively involved in the movement to get rid of the king in 2006 and then in the Tharuhat movement since 2007. I was the treasurer of the Tharuhat Tharuwaan Committee. Back then, the Tharus were put in the same category as Madhesi. We began our movement for our own identity. We demanded proportional representation and a Tharuhat autonomous state but none of our demands were addressed. I was young back then, just out of school.
In 2015 we started another Tharuhat movement. It was heavily repressed by the state. The police went around arresting every male who was involved in the movement and attacking every Tharu house. So, we made a strategy to protect our movement and women took over and led the movement. We wore our traditional clothes and protested in the streets of Dhangadi for weeks. We started celebrating our traditional festivals. In retrospect, by these actions at least we managed to save our clothes and culture. We also started lobbying for our native language to be taught in schools and to make it an official language in the government office procedures.
We were organizing a mass conference where many activists from around the country was supposed to participate. The supporters of Akhanda Sudur Paschim – people who were opposed to our idea of autonomous Tharuwan – stopped villagers and participants to reach our venue in Dhangadi. They started pelting stones and blocking roads. Many participants from Tikapur who were coming to our conference also got stopped on the way by this group who started voicing against our movement. Many people were injured. After our mass conference, they then organized a motorcycle rally but the people of Tikapur didn’t let them pass. With the help of the police and local authorities, they started attacking us. They beat, torture and gave Tharu people a very hard time. They burnt our homes and offices, vandalized properties owned by Tharus. It was a one big systematic attack targeted against our community to silence our movement.
On 24 August, 2015, we had a program demanding an autonomous Tharuhat State in Dhangadi. Me along with other Tharu activists went to put a banner in front of the Chief District Office. Meanwhile the Tikapur massacre happened. We were protesting and heading our rally towards the CDO. After a moment we got a call from Tikapur that many people were killed while demonstrating. Then, we decided to turn back.
There are many reports of Tikapur massacre, including report by Amnesty International, but the government didn’t publish any reports. They refuse to acknowledge the loss of Tharu lives caused in the massacre. Tharu people also started getting severely oppressed by the state repeatedly. Police would go around arresting people again. People fled their homes and started hiding in the fields. We were not even allowed to go catch fish. Our daily lives are linked with fish, it being a basic diet in our culture. Not allowing us to do our daily chores was definitely a major human rights abuse.
For me, that was a realizing moment, that I could not go much further politically without being totally destroyed by the repression. So, like my father, I picked up my pen and started to write.
I started writing articles on Tharu identity, women’s rights and other socio-political issues. I then joined Democracy Research Center as a researcher. With some of the money that I got from my job, I did something which I’ve been always meaning to do it since I was young.
After twelve years, I re-published “Muktik Dagar” in my own editorial, in memory of my father. For me, despite of all the state repressions and all those failed attempts at independence, Tharus will continue walking the road to freedom.
