In Jammu's relief camps,No Relief- Aditi Bhaduri in Kashmir Times

Usha Pandita, 45, feels tired even after the smallest of chores. But that's not unusual for her. She suffers from Pelvic Inflammatory Disease (PID). For her, it all began with abdominal pain, which she initially disregarded as routine until it steadily increased. Usha then started to notice a heavy discharge and the feeling of being perpetually run down. That was when she visited the doctor. Tests confirmed she was suffering from PID - the inflammation of the organs in the pelvic region because of infection. It is during menstruation particularly that the uterus becomes more susceptible to this condition caused by unhygienic conditions.
Usha is one of the 10,000 residents of the Purkhoo migrant camp, one of the several camps set up on the outskirts of Jammu for the Kashmiri Pandit community forced to flee the Kashmir Valley when militancy gained ground in the 1990s. From Kupwara, Usha and her family made their way to Purkhoo, which they have called home since 1990. Years have gone by and even militancy is on the wane, yet time seems to have stood still for the inhabitants of the camps. Living in a one-room pigeon hole with a family of four can be trying in itself but the lack of sanitation has only added to the woes. For women, in particular, it is horrifying.
The Purkhoo camp has four phases and each phase has around 300 to 500 rooms. There are 10 toilets each for men and women. So there is one toilet per 150 men/women. The water supply lasts only an hour each day. Every time Usha, who lives in Phase I, goes to the toilet, she walks about 150 metres. What's more, she has to carry her wash water along. But there is only that much water she can carry. On numerous occasions the water is found insufficient to keep both herself and her surroundings clean.. It is because of these abysmal facilities that she ended up with PID.
Veena Pandita, 40, also lives in the same deplorable environs of Purkhoo. She too has acute PID. Dr Indu Kaul, a well-known Jammu-based gynaecologist treating these women, explains that the symptoms for PID include abdominal pain accompanied by heavy discharge and backache. She finds that in the case of women like Usha and Veena, PID continues for years. Usha, for instance, has been suffering from it for the last four years. The medicines don't really help, as the toilet she visits roughly four times a day continues to be poorly equipped.
Unfortunately, even the medication includes heavy doses of antibiotics, the intake of which has major side effects. When PID is deep rooted then surgery is usually the final recourse. Usha has been recommended surgery but her financial condition doesn't permit the procedure. "We still have four 'kanals' (one kanal equals 605 sq. yards) left in Kupwara. We had our own 'chashm' (well) there," she recalls wistfully. She adds, "I did not have to go to a toilet that was used by hundreds of others there." Purkhoo's water supply, too, is contaminated. Residents complain that they have to replace their utensils every few months as they get coated with a white sediment. The pipes leak at multiple locations and so germs and dirt merge with the water. Near the toilets at Phase I, there is a water hole from which people draw out water to flush. But not only is the water filthy, it is even difficult to draw it out, especially when there is a long line of people waiting for their turn to use the toilet. Although help has been hired to clean the facilities once every two days, because of insufficient water and the sheer number of users, it is impossible to maintain a basic level of hygience. Moreover, there is no electricity in the toilets, so going after dark is another hazard, especially for the women. That's why the maximum number of cases of PID in the city come from these camps. In fact, according to Dr Kaul, while the national average of PID is six to eight per cent, the cases reported from the camps can be 15 to 20 per cent, which is extremely high. The most affected age groups are the adolescents and those above 35 years. In adolescents, chronic PID can lead to a loss of fertility, so the increasing trend is cause for alarm.
Sarla Kaul, 28, who lives in the Mishriwalla camp, a kilometre from Purkhoo, suffers from Urinary Tract Infection (UTI). The sanitation situation at Mishriwalla is worse than at Purkhoo as toilets for both men and women are common here and no one comes to clean them. Many toilets are simply holes in the ground. Sarla has UTI, caused by poor hygiene and unsanitary conditions that make her vulnerable to other infections too. Lately, she has been suffering from menstrual dysfunction, with heavy blood loss and pain around her abdominal area.
Expectant women are particularly vulnerable to UTI, as pregnancy causes hormonal changes that lead to the relaxation of the urethra, which if exposed to poor sanitary conditions is quick to contract infection. UTI leads to anaemia, itching and swelling, which could eventually endanger the life of the child. It also often retards the growth of the foetus and results in stunted babies or those with low birth weight. That was the case of the baby Rajni Raina, who is in her mid-twenties and lives in Purkhoo Camp's Phase II, gave birth too. Not surprisingly, Rajni had chronic UTI during her pregnancy. Once again, Dr Kaul points out that while the national average of UTI is about 10 to 15 per cent, it is about 20 to 30 per cent in these camps.
Besides this there are other water-borne diseases prevalent here. Shetu Pandita, 17, of Purkhoo, has been ailing from a recurring hepatitis for the last five years. As has Puneet Bhatt, 16, of Mishriwalla - since he was 10, in fact. According to the World Health Organization, 80 per cent of such cases are caused by lack of safe water and sanitation. Five of the 10 top diseases of children are also related to water and sanitation. According to Dr K.L. Chowdhury, of Jammu, Hepatitis A and E are common in the camps. Again, in pregnant women, Hepatitis is particularly dangerous as it can put the lives of both the mother and child at risk.
The Third South Asian Conference on Sanitation held in New Delhi recently called for according priority to sanitation and reiterated that sanitation and safe drinking water are basic rights. Such declarations need to be translated into a reality if life is to improve for women like Usha and Veena, who are rendered without proper homes because of the politics of division and hate.

In Search of Home-Aditi Bhaduri

These Hindu women fled Kashmir in 1990 and now live in Mutthi Camp. Photograph by Aditi Bhaduri.

In Search of Home:Kashmiri Hindus dream of their ancessteral land.

It has been a momentous year for Indian-administered Jammu and Kashmir. It began with the state government's controversial transfer of land to the Hindu Shri Amarnath Shrine Board, and ended with the just concluded elections. 2008 saw mass demonstrations and protests erupt in Kashmir, as much against the Indian state as local politicians and leaders. When elections were announced for November-December, they were met with astonishment. What followed, however, has left many in Kashmir and in India surprised.
Ignoring calls by secessionist leaders to boycott the elections, threats from militants and braving the harsh winter weather, Kashmiris turned out in droves to vote. Seen as a verdict in favor of democratic politics by the valley's population, the elections saw a 62 percent voter turnout, without any credible reports of rigging or coercion by the state authorities.
There was however another surprise in this year's elections. Kashmir's forgotten minority – the Kashmiri Hindus – also made their presence felt. When militancy erupted in the Kashmir valley in the late 1980s and early 1990s, the first casualty was a tiny community of ethnic Kashmiris belonging to the Hindu faith, comprising roughly eight percent of the population. Known to swear their allegiance to the Indian state, this community became the first target of Islamist militants who engaged in targeted killings of the community's prominent members. Threats were issued to either convert to Islam or leave the valley—and most of them, numbering around 300,000—fled Kashmir to the safer havens of the nearby Hindu-dominated region of Jammu.
Almost 20 years later, with repatriation to Kashmir still only a dream, the community has created its own political party. The Jammu Kashmir National United Front (JKNUF) has fielded 15 Hindu Kashmiri candidates in various assembly constituencies across the valley—an attempt to highlight the community's suffering.
So how has this community fared, especially its women? What is the reality of their lives and how will the election results impact them? To find out, I travelled to the bloated camp of Mutthi on the outskirts of Jammu, one of the many camps that has housed thousands of these displaced Kashmiris since they fled their ancestral lands in 1990.
I met Chandra Dhar, 35, one of the thousands of Kashmiri Hindu women who fled Kashmir and continue to live in exile in Mutthi. Chandra's story epitomizes the struggle of many who live in the camp.
Chandra left her native Kashmir when she was 15 years old. She left thinking that the communal tensions and violence that had erupted would be over within a few months and she would return home. Almost twenty years later, Chandra Dhar, now 37 and married with two children, continues to live in Mutthi Camp where her children are now growing up – the second generation of Kashmiri Hindus living in displacement camps. She is hesitant to show me her home – a tiny one-roomed tenement which serves as a bedroom, living room and kitchen.
Her husband is away and her father-in-law and child are sleeping squeezed together on the small cot that takes up much of the space. So we sit outside in the mellow sunshine, on newspapers spread out on the ground in front of the door. Nearby, an open sewer runs its course. Children from the camp run around us, playing with paper planes – the narrow alley is their playground. Slowly, Chandra tells me how she came to be here, far from her beloved Kashmir.

You lived in Kashmir before you came here?
Yes, I was born and lived in Kashmir until 1990, in Handwara village, district Kupwara in an extended family. We had our own house and our own land which sustained us. Our village was Muslim-dominated, with about 100 Muslim families and 25 Hindu families. Relations between Hindus and Muslims were cordial and I had Muslim friends. All was [normal]. But when the first attack in the district of Anantnag took place, attitudes changed.

What happened in Anantnag?
Muslim mobs burnt down Hindu homes. Our neighbors changed - they became withdrawn. I remember one particular night, on January 25, 1990. I was 15 years old. Armed with sticks and knives, a 1000-strong Muslim mob from other villages descended on our village, looking for Hindus. Three security personnel however soon came on the scene, began firing and dispersed the mob. We were terribly scared. Then we received an anonymous written threat to clear out or face the consequences. My elder sister had a friend called Sweety in district Baramullah. She was brave and had refused to leave. She was cut up, just sawed into two. We knew then that we just had to leave. I feel sad that few people in India know about all this.
We left home at night. It was February 2nd. It had been Friday, the day for weekly Muslim public prayers. My father dressed up like a Muslim, went the nearest town of Sopore and got hold of a truck, as there were none in the village. The truck came at night and 5 families left in it, each taking whatever they could carry.
We came to Jammu. We all thought things would normalize in a few months and we would return. But things deteriorated. Initially, we stayed with friends. A year later, we were given this one room here in Mutthi, which the authorities had by then set up. Hordes of other Hindu families fled Kashmir and came here. There were nine of us in this one room. We faced unimaginable problems - lack of privacy, discomfort, physical pain, lack of water, proper sanitation. See, this is just one room. Is it possible for one family to live here? It's terrible. We have a common toilet further away, and we share it with 52 other families.
Some time later the government began giving us some rations - each family got rice and a kilo of sugar. We were also given Rs 600 (US$14) which was really of no use, it's so little.

After leaving Kashmir, have you ever gone back to visit?
I visited it for the first time last year. I visited my husband's village - Langate. My husband also fled Kashmir because militants wanted to kill him. We got married here (Mutthi) in 1996 and have two children now. He still has land in the village, which trespassers had been encroaching on. So I decided to visit the property as that is all we can give our children. We have nothing here. I could not visit my natal village because militancy still continues and there are no Hindu families left there.

How did it feel to go back?
It was like a dream. I was scared and excited. Some families welcomed me very warmly. Some did not like the return of a Hindu woman. There are no Hindu families left in Langate either. But I had gone through the security forces, and was safe. I showed my children their native land. I put someone in charge of the land and asked him to take care of it.

Who do you blame most for your displacement, for the fact that you are here today?

The government - it could not protect us. When the turmoil began it should have paid attention to the atrocities being committed against Hindus. If it had acted decisively then, all this could have been avoided. The government later told us to return to Kashmir. So we said, 'okay, give us security', but it could not.
All political parties visit during election time seeking our votes, and then do nothing. No one has done anything for us, or we would not remain here today.
I try not to think at all. It's too painful when I think of Kashmir.

This year the Kashmiri Hindus have formed their own party, the JKNUF and are contesting these elections.

Well, it only shows that no one has cared for us until now. So our community has taken this step. It may be a good thing, but it will take time. By then I will be old and gone. I only want our children to be safe. Our lives have been ruined, but I want to see my children prosper and live in Kashmir in security.

About the Author

Aditi Bhaduri is an independent journalist and researcher based in India. With a background in international relations, specializing in the Arab-Islamic world (specifically the Israel-Palestine conflict), Russian linguistics, displacement and gender, she began her writing career by covering the Middle East for the Indian media. Currently Aditi’s work focuses on conflict, peace, displacement and gender. She acts as a gender consultant to various NGOs and started the Human Rights for Beginners program in schools in her native city of Kolkata. Aditi is also a member of several civil society initiatives in India and was on a Rotary Goodwill Exchange Program to the USA.
Aditi’s work has been published widely, both in Indian and foreign print and electronic media. She was awarded the UNFPA-Population First LAADLI National Media Award 2008 for gender sensitive reporting and hopes to establish her own publication dedicated solely to peace journalism.

This article first appeared here