'We have been wounded'

THEY sat in a circle facing one another. One group of women wore salwar kamiz, some of them with their heads covered with dupattas. The other group mostly wore sarongs and tops, their heads uncovered. They spoke different languages. Yet they spoke the same language, for they understood each other perfectly.

Last week a most unusual meeting of women from Kashmir and the North East took place in a distant suburb of New Delhi. For a day and a half the women shared their experiences. They cried, and they laughed, and they were amazed how similar their stories were. For whether it was the voice of a woman from Baramulla in the Kashmir valley, or a Naga woman from the Chakesang area of Nagaland or a Kuki woman from Manipur, or a Meishing woman, a plains tribal from Assam, the same words were repeated in their narratives. "Fear", "anxiety", "anger", "an uncertain future".

"We feel anguish. We feel angry," said a Naga woman from Manipur. The army, she said, had been deployed in her area from the early 1970s. "They are supposed to be there for our security, but they make us insecure."

Both sets of women shared the sorrow of brothers, husbands, fathers who had been killed by the army, of their kin who had disappeared, of the agony of living with the absence of any closure when your loved one disappears without a trace. An elderly woman from Baramulla, the lines on whose face mapped her sorrow and distress, spoke of how her husband had been taken for questioning by the Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF) 10 years ago, and never returned. "I have looked for him everywhere," she said. She had even travelled to Srinagar to find him. And finally she travelled for three days to reach New Delhi to see if she could get some support and help.

The women shared their terrifying moments, when the military entered their houses to search for suspected militants. "We are not safe even in our own homes," said one woman, who had the guts to confront a soldier attempting to molest her and almost got shot in the process. Others narrated the problems they had communicating with the army personnel who shouted at them in Hindi irrespective of whether the women understood what they were saying.

A Naga woman could not hold back her tears when she recounted how the army had surrounded her sister's house and demanded that her husband, who was not at home, come out and surrender. When he did not appear, they rushed into the house and fired. Two little girls, one aged seven and the other 12, were killed. This woman had planned to adopt the younger of these two. Today, she cannot forgive herself for she believes that if she had taken the little girl away sooner, she would still be alive.

A young woman from Manipur told her terrible story of losing her husband, being left with six children and having to contend with in-laws who accused her of killing her husband. They took away her home and her children and virtually forced her to leave Manipur. Despite this, she is determined to fight back, has filed a suit for custody of her children, has completed a course in counselling and says, "I have been wounded. My goal is to be a healer of wounds."

In the past, said the women from the North East, the men protected the women. Today, women have to protect the men. "Who is going to protect our brothers and fathers?" asked a Naga woman. "If all our menfolk are killed, what will happen to our society? If our men are guilty, they should be brought to trial. But you cannot just kill them," she said.

While the transgressions of the men in uniform bonded the women from Kashmir and the North East, they also spoke of the problems they face when the gun is pointed at them "by our own people". There were stories of how militants demanded shelter and food without taking into account the consequences for these families, particularly the woman.

They also shared the problems that arise when you live for years in an atmosphere dominated by fear and violence. Women, children and men had serious psychological problems left untended. Children missed school, could not concentrate on their studies. Economic activities of all kinds were disrupted. If the army laid siege to a village, it would take several days before people would dare step out and return to work on their fields.

Whether Naga or Kashmiri, women usually did not know their rights. If they did, they did not know to whom they should turn. If they knew, for instance, that they were entitled to claim compensation for loss of life, they did not know how to go about registering the claim. In cases of rape, they did not know how to register a first information report. For a missing person, they did not know where they should go and how they should file a report. As a result, to get compensation, or to file a case, took months, often years.

While there was a great deal in common, between the two groups of women, there were also significant differences. The North East women said they faced no problems in stepping out of their homes and organising for their rights. They acknowledged that in their tribal institutions, like village councils, women were not included. Yet, women were not stopped from forming their own organisations.

The Kashmiri women, on the other hand, said they were seriously constrained both by fear and by social custom which restricted their movements outside their homes. As a result, even if they had wished to organised themselves, they could not do so with the same ease as did the women of the North East. In the latter, despite years of conflict, civil society groups had established themselves. They were providing counselling and economic assistance to affected groups, including women. In Kashmir, there was an absence of such groups. Even those who tried to work faced constant questions about their credentials, their funding sources and their real motives.

What was the point in bringing these women together?

The point was evident by the end of the meeting. For despite their wounds, their suffering, all the women wanted to do something to end the conflict, to search for peace, to find ways to heal, to share coping strategies and to learn from one another. Will our official "peace negotiators" listen to these women?

KALPANA SHARMA

E-mail the writer at ksharma@vsnl.com

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