Jungle Terror 3

‘We’re Afraid Of The Judum And The Naxals’

TUNKI VENKATESH
Resident of Palachalam village

Both the voice and considered pace with which he speaks make it hard to believe that Venkatesh is 16 years old. Just months before he could complete high school, the Salwa Judum attacked Palachalam. As a result, Venkatesh had to drop out of school to take care of his 11-member extended family. Two years ago, the Maoists struck at Palachalam. Now, as villagers come to terms with the Judum attack, the silence in Palachalam indicates their realisation that they are unwillingly sitting on Ground Zero.

I STUDY in a town more than 70 km from my village. I had come home for a week to recover from a fever. I was at home when the Judum attacked my village. On September 17, a 300-strong Judum force entered Palachalam through the forests. Nobody had expected them to turn up at the village. When I was in school, although I constantly heard news of the Salwa Judum attacking villages, they had never come to our village.

When the Judum entered the village, they gathered 30 people from different houses. Over the next four hours, they tied them up separately and beat them. The Judum suspected them of either being Naxals or Naxal sympathisers. They kept accusing them of feeding Naxals, of giving them shelter and obeying their orders. They wanted more information about the Naxals and their whereabouts. At some point the Judum gave up, released the men and moved towards our house. We were all at home, all 14 of us — I live with my brother, my sister and their families. Had we heard about the Salwa Judum’s presence in the village, we would have run away to the forests. But our house is located at the back of the village and we did not hear the Judum beat the men.

Man for all seasons Tunki Venkatesh with his widowed sister-in-law and niece

The Judum stormed into our house and found my brother, Tunki Ramakrishna, and my sister’s husband, Sodi Sanyasi Rao, at home. They pulled these men to their feet and started hitting them. The women screamed. I was inside the house and not immediately visible to the Judum men. A minute later, even as I was wondering what to do, the men asked if there were other men in the household. I stepped out. They took one look at me and asked me which of the two men I was related to. I told them I was a student and didn’t live at home all the time. At the same moment, some other Judum men entered the house with another man, Dudhi Anuma. I think that distraction worked in my favour. Otherwise the Judum would have dragged me away along with my brother and brother-in-law.

TUNKI VEERI, 26 years old, widow of Tunki Ramakrishna My husband loved our two-year-old daughter and talked all the time of sending her to school.

The Judum made the three men walk for 10 hours to the nearest police station. My sister gathered 15 other women from the village and followed them back to the station. They saw the Judum take the three men into the station. For hours, they maintained a vigil outside. At some point in the night, the Judum slipped the men out of the station and took them to a clearing near the village bus stand. They were forced to strip and change into Naxal uniforms. The Judum tied them up to different trees and shot them dead. Enough villagers were around to see them conduct this exercise.

Later, the Judum loaded the bodies on a truck and buried them in a mass grave at a town 70 km away. Schoolchildren watched the Judum dig the grave and throw the bodies in. Why couldn’t the Judum at least give our dead a decent burial? Why wouldn’t they give us back the bodies?

We are stuck between the Naxals and the Judum. It is a life of forced silence that we lead. We are caught in fear of people with guns, be they Naxals or Judum.

I had hoped to finish school and go to college in Dantewada. I wanted to work in an office. My brother and I would sit and talk for hours about this. I had to drop out of school after the killings to take care of the family. What choice do I have?