Quilted Memories - Network of the Families of the Disappeared

My mother was tortured by security forces when she inquired about my father’s whereabouts


Sarita Thapa was eleven when her father Shayam was denounced by a neighbour as a Maoist and detained. Sarita, her mother and younger brother were then ostracized and driven from the village. Sarita gave up school to concentrate on the search for her father. When her mother went looking for information about her father, she disappeared as well. For five days, Sarita and her family didn’t know if her mother was ever coming back. When her mother was finally allowed to come home, they learned that she had been tortured. She still suffers from injuries inflicted during her imprisonment but her resilience shines through. Sarita endured further tragedy after her husband died from a snake-bite. But these misfortunes only stiffened Sarita’s resolve. She returned to school and completed grade 12 with girls half her age.

I was too little to remember my father’s facial expression, but I remember the midnight when they took him away


Sharmila’s memorial square stands out for its raw and angry denunciation of the army. It describes the arrest of her father Kallu, who was in no way political. “A large group of soldiers came to our home and demanded that we open the door. My father was not even dressed. At least they allowed him to put on some clothes.” The family went to the local army base but could get no news. Sharmila was the youngest of six children. She has had to work the land to make ends meet and pay for university. She finds it difficult to forget as she says “My family was dependent on my father. I remember him a lot!”

My father was on his knees the last time I saw him


Kushma made two squares describing the way her father Ton Bahadur was taken at night by soldiers. Kushma was seven at the time and does not remember the incident, but her mother has described it many times: “The army came to my home, took my father away and beat him.” He was not a Maoist, but active in social work in the community. He won election and got into an argument with an unsuccessful candidate who denounced him to the army. He had many friends in the village, but the army did not investigate”. Kushma left school after grade 10 because money was short. She is still not married at the age of 24 because her mother cannot afford to pay a second dowry after Kushma’s older sister was married a year ago. Kushma testified before the Disappearances Commission in 2016. But her mother will not register her husband as dead until she learns what happened.

My husband was a carpenter not a terrorist


Manju was still trying to come to terms with the disappearance of her husband Hira Mani when she made her square. Hira made a good living working in furniture and was with a neighbour when he disappeared. Soldiers came to the family house asking about Hira and Manju started to follow them until she was restrained by a neighbour. After her husband disappeared, Manju found some protection by marrying his brother, but her family life then became complicated. Manju’s fortunes had changed for the better by 2019. She had deposited the final installment of compensation in her daughter Alina’s bank account. Manju also inherited 10 khatta (half an acre) of land from Hira. She was active in three savings groups, and able to save 200 rupees a month. Manju is still bitter about the loss of her first husband and she wants to see the guilty prosecuted. Manju’s most precious gift is her daughter Alina, who is serious, talented and devoted to her mother.

They said that they just wanted some information but I never saw my son again


Belmati lost one of her six sons and two daughters-in-law during the conflict – a devastating loss for one family. The younger of the two women, Kamala, was married to Belmati’s son, Jagat Kumari. This square shows Jagat had stomach trouble and was going for treatment when he was seized by Maoists and forced to serve as a porter. The army came for his wife shortly afterwards. Belmati’s second daughter-in-law Gita, an active Maoist, was seized by villagers while she was going to a festival and handed over to soldiers. Belmati memorialised Gita in her first embroidered square. In 2016 she had only received 100,000 rupees in compensation. “I remember them all the time, when I’m working or when I celebrate a festival, or when I see other children. I have kept my son’s clothes…we want compensation and proper answers…we lost everything.

People say my husband was badly beaten after he was arrested


Anita remembers how her husband Tulsiram Tharu, a farmer, disappeared. “He was arrested in Baskari by police in the morning. They took him to the district jail and kept him for two months.” Anita visited him in jail and was overjoyed when she read that he had been freed. But he never reappeared. “The police gave us false news.” Life since has been hard for Anita. She works as an indentured labourer for an upper-class landowner and pays back part of what she produces as a tithe. This leaves just enough to make ends meet. She was relieved to receive compensation but wants her husband back. “He was my husband, my life partner. I often think of him. I want the guilty to be punished but I have only one son and I am afraid that they will make him disappear as well.”





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