This was all she had! This little girl was quietly picking stones from the little rice she had. She looked numb. I don't know what was going through her mind. I walked past her. The next home, the next plastic sheet; A dead body kept there. One young girl, slightly older than this one in the picture sat next to the body; crying silently. I walked past her too. To the next home and to the one after that and then to another. The so-called homes.
35000 of these people in one camp. Seven camps! They had sought refuge in the neighbouring state of Tripura after the state they lived in Mizoram had sent them out. The refugee camps had been organized along the godforsaken Jamui hills bordering Mizoram and Tripura. Organized? Sorry, these people have just settled down along the hills.
As I walked back to the vehicle, questions throbbed my mind! Where do they go for toilets? Food? Where do they bury the dead? Is there a way to teach the children there? What if somebody falls sick? Do they have enough clothes to wear? What if it rains? And it poured usually in that area. Sadly just before I went a fire ravaged the camp. Where did they go to hide from fire? The govt promised Rs.5/- (0.01$) per day per person, of which only a petty few got em.
It has been 21 years since the refugee camp started. Nearly eight years since I went visiting. They still exist. The state of Mizoram doesn't want them. Neither does Tripura.
When I read today that Indian government has sent back a few Rohingya refugees to Myanmar and fearing repatriation many are migrating to the safety of Bangladesh, I got reminded of my short stint in that refugee camp.
Refugee camps are the biggest crimes a state can inflict on a human being. And if a state refuses people even a place in such refugee camps, and in fact repatriates, those who have sought refuge, that I think is the lowest a state can stoop down to. And sadly, my country is traversing that path.
India, the blood is on you!
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