“China
already has experience of running community radios. They can play the
role of an early warning system. China lies in the upstream amd if they
can forsee any disaster they can inform us. We can do this as we have
one thing in common - the river,” TERESA REHMAN on a climate change workshop involving journalists of three countries. Pix: the Yarlung Zangbo
|
Posted/Updated Sunday, Oct 23 11:42:46, 2011
|
Compared
to the Ganges, it’s one of the least reported rivers though it drains
the entire Eastern Himalayas. The Yarlung Zangbo-Brahmaputra Basin is a
trans-boundary river system and is an integral part of the lives of
people living in three different countries – China, India and
Bangladesh. And of late there have been some apprehensions over China
building big dams on the upper reaches of the river system which has
created misgivings in downstream countries like India and Bangladesh.
This can mainly be attributed to lack of information and media reports
on the developments along the banks of the river in these three
different countries.
In
fact, this lack of information about the river system can also lead to
catastrophic results. For instance, in June 2000, a huge landslide on
the Yigong Zangbo river (the upper stream of the Brahmaputra), in the
east of Tibet led to flash floods in parts of Arunachal Pradesh and
Assam leading to an estimated property loss of not less than a billion
rupees, 30 deaths and more than 100 people missing and more than 50,000
homeless. Partha J Das, climate expert from Aaranyaak, an NGO says, “A
lot of the disaster could have been averted if this was widely
publicized by media outlets in both the countries.”
Recently,
the “Tibetan Review”, a monthly magazine wrote, “The media in India
have reacted happily Oct 14 to China’s claim that it will not divert
water from the Yarlung Tsangpo river in occupied Tibet to its parched
provinces in the north-east, or even Xinjiang in the north-west,
especially due to its “possible impact on state-to-state relations”. The
Indianexpress.com said the statement would likely come as a relief to
India. And the Timesofindia.indiatimes.com called it a rare admission
which will be welcomed in India.
In
a bid to usher in some kind of mutual exchange of ideas between the
three countries, the Third Pole Project of China dialogue and Internews’
Earth Journalism Network organized a media workshop on Climate Change
Effects in the Yarlung Zangbo/Brahmaputra Basin for journalists from
Bangladesh, China and India recently. Katherine Eaton of Internews says,
“It is possible to close your borders to anything political or economic
but not to the environment. In fact, talking about the environment can
even be an incentive for peace.”
For
the first time, Indian and Bangladeshi journalists got an opportunity
to hear a Chinese scientist Dr Yang Yong, who had for the first time
tried to explore the treacherous parts of the river system by rafting
through the river. He displayed some rare photographs which showed
desertification in parts of the upper reaches of the Yarlung Zangbo
river which could be effects of climate change.
The
lack of data on this river system and lack of agreement of these two
countries to share information or even early warning systems has led to
many misunderstandings. Bharatlal Seth of Down To Earth magazine in
India says, “I still think the regional Indian media covers it and the
national media picks up a lot from the regional media.” Sobhapati Samom,
an Indian journalist based in Manipur feels it is important that
journalists of these three countries come together and share
information. “It also helps us to dispel many myths,” he adds.
The
Bangladesh media is also keen on a trans-boundary sharing of
information. G.M Mourtaza, chief co-ordinator of Radio Padma, the first
community radio station of Bangladesh says, “We read about this river
system as isolated incidents. We need to collate and connect one event
with another. In fact, we can have a network of community radio to share
information. China already has a long-standing experience of running
community radios. We can share information online. They can in turn
relay it on their airwaves and even play the role of an early warning
system. China lies in the upstream amd if they can forsee any disaster
they can inform us. We can do this as we have one thing in common – the
river.”
Another
journalist Ruhul Amin Rushd, senior news editor of Bangla Vision
Television used to report on climate change and the environment mainly
concentrating on the Ganges. After the Ganges, another much-talked about
river is the Teesta. But the Brahmaputra has somehow been ignored by
the media in Bangladesh. “We keep having devastating floods in our
country and I am not sure if this is in anyway connected to any
developments in the upstream. It is pertinent to co-operate with each
other and share information on the trans-boundary rivers that flow
through the countries,” he says.
Water
is such an issue that wars have been fought over it. But the common
people are not interested in the politics over water. People want water
for their basic needs, does not matter who has more or less or does
everyone has enough. Beth Walker, Editor of Third Pole, “I have been
struck by how little understanding between the three countries. We seem
to just get polarized views. It is important to share stories, concerns,
ideas and reshape the whole debate on the river.”
The
Chinese journalists too were intrigued by the misunderstanding created
by the media. Wan Li, a Chinese journalist says, “I spoke to some Indian
friends and I know there are misgivings among the media and local
people of the downstream countries. This kind of exchange programme
helps in sending across the message back home on the effects of the
mismanagement of the information system to the affected countries. We
read about the floods in Bangladesh but without any linkages to China.
Joydeep
Gupta, director of the Third Pole Project, a project of Internews’
Earth Journalism Network and China Dialogue that seeks to improve
coverage of climate change issues in the Himalayan region and downstream
wants to make this interaction among journalists of these three
different countries a sustained effort. “We want this river system to be
reported more frequently. Journalists can always share information
through listserves and be connected online,” he says.
(Teresa Rehman is a journalist based in Northeast India).
|
Friday, October 28, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
“Come One, Come All” was the
slogan at the Nyishi Dignity Rally on September 13. A report in the
Times of India which was critical of the Nyishi tribe has brought the
community together in a concerted effort to get to the root of the
story. TERESA REHMAN reports. Pix: The rally at Itanagar
|
Posted/Updated Thursday, Sep 15 18:24:14, 2011
|
After
waiting for justice for several months the Nyishi tribe of Arunachal
Pradesh came out in a huge rally at Itanagar to demand action on a
report they dubbed as being communally insensitive and aimed at dividing
the state. “Come One, Come All” was the slogan at the Nyishi Dignity
Rally on September 13. Scores of people from the tribe, the single
largest tribe of the state, thronged the state capital with umbrellas to
beat the scorching heat at the rally organized by the All Nyishi
Student’s Union (ANSU) and the Nyishi Elite Society (NES).
The cause of their ire was a report which had ‘derogatory’ remarks against the Nyishis published in The Times of India
on May 4. This news report by Pradeep Thakur is alleged to have drawn a
wedge between the different tribes of the state and the protestors
smell a larger political conspiracy, including the involvement of the
present chief minister Jarbom Gamlin. The report stated that Nabam Tuki,
who was a frontrunner in the race for the Arunachal Pradesh chief
minister’s post after the death of Dorjee Khandu, belonged to the
"Nyishi tribe, which doesn't enjoy a good rapport among other tribes".
The massive rally was organized after five months of protests including three bandh calls by the ANSU. They gave a seven-day ultimatum to the government to solve the issue and meet their main demands - immediate arrest of Thakur, unconditional apology, revelation of source of derogatory remarks and detailed call records of his two phone numbers.
The protests started right after the
report was published. ANSU had lodged an FIR with Arunachal Pradesh
Director General of Police demanding Thakur’s arrest for disturbing
communal peace. On May 13 ANSU had submitted memorandum demanding an
enquiry and action. As a knee-jerk reaction, a committee headed by
Minister of Health and Family Welfare Attum Welly, was formed. The
government also formed a second committee headed by state Home Minister
Takar Marde but it could come to no logical conclusion.
On the other hand, the Times of India Group has pulled down the content that offended the Nyishi Community and has apologized on May 26, 2011. They wrote, “We wish to state that the report, which has since been removed from the website, was based on the assessment in political circles here, and that we did not intend to hurt the sentiments of Nyishis or any other community. We regret any offence that we may have inadvertently caused and wish the best to the people of Arunachal Pradesh.” Thakur has also tendered an unconditional apology but the agitated tribes have not been pacified as the source of the remarks has not been divulged nor have the details of call records been given. Organisations like the All Mishmi Students Union(AMSU) and Dibang Adi Students Union (DASU) also condemned the news report by Thakur.
"This sort of negative mindset by
mainland Indian people does not augur well for a secular country like
India," DASU stated in a press release. In a poignant comment to the
media, the president of the ANSU said, “India is a democratic country.
Each one of us has our own set of responsibilities including the media
which has been endorsed by the Constitution of India. The strength of
the Constitution lies on ‘We the People’. And you can see the people
here.”
Interestingly, this mass rally against a media report was extensively covered by the local and regional media. In fact, NETV, a satellite channel aired from Guwahati even covered the rally live. And one of the organizers of the rally was effusive in thanking the print and electronic media for their support. |
Friday, September 2, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Media Entrepreneur Loves Tracking non-resident Indians
Every year, thousands of Indians leave the country to re-locate in foreign lands. What is their motivation? How do they cope with the change? How do women in particular deal with the move and is it really as glamorous as it appears?
Young Bobbeeta Sarma was always curious to know how the large non resident Indian (NRI) community, especially women, made a life for themselves on foreign shores. But it wasn’t until one of her travels abroad a few years ago that this media entrepreneur and former ‘beauty queen’ from Assam finally got down to shooting a series of audio-visual travelogues. To start her project, she chose the most obvious subjects - NRIs from her home state. She did that because she wanted to take the world to the drawing rooms of Assamese people, many of whom harboured the dream of travelling abroad.
A trip to Toronto, Canada, to shoot a programme for the Assam Association in 2001 led to the series that Sarma called, Bidexot Apun Manuh or Loved Ones in a Foreign Land. For shooting the vignettes she teamed up with her TV producer husband, Chinmoy, and a colleague, Manas Adhikari. “We were a three-member team. Hiring technicians abroad is expensive so we did everything ourselves – right from research to make-up to sound and camera. It was like an adventure,” she recalls.
They short-listed a few families and flew around the world from time-to-time to record the interviews. From the United States and the UK to France, Germany, Norway, the Netherlands, Austria, Belgium and Switzerland in Europe, to South East Asia and the Pacific, Sarma met up women and men from diverse backgrounds and interviewed them in various settings. She wanted the interactions to be candid so the team shot in kitchens, dining rooms, living rooms, in parks and, on one occasion, even in a moving car. “We stayed with the people whom we wanted to feature in order to be able to provide an insight into their lives,” she says.
It was while living in their homes that Sarma discovered that life for expats is far from easy. And yet all of them have one thing in common – they are resilient and quick learners. The first thing most do – women in particular – in a new place is to learn how to drive. “If you cannot move around on your own, you are stranded and isolated, especially in countries like the US where public transport is almost non-existent except in the big cities,” says Sarma. Many also become efficient housekeepers, expertly using gadgets like the dishwasher, lawn mower and vacuum cleaner. “There are no maids at one’s beck and call in the West, although many people do get in help once or twice a week to help in the housecleaning, if they can afford it.”
Battling extreme weather conditions is another challenge. Living in cold climes particularly has a negative psychological effect on some. “I met a woman from North England who lived by the sea and she would pine for sunshine. When the grey spells would stretch for weeks together, she would become increasingly depressed,” Sarma relates. But what people miss the most is the comfort of a large family. “They feel terrible when often they are unable to make it back home during crucial times - like an illness or death in the family,” adds Sarma.
Yet, despite all these difficulties, most of them have done well for themselves. Some have achieved super success in their careers, while others are doing their bit, albeit in more modest ways. Sarma caught up with the UK-based TV host of Mridula’s Kitchen, Mridula Bajlekar. Although she is not a trained cookery expert, Bajlekar had a passion for cooking which she developed into a rewarding career. Besides the show, she has also written several books on Indian food. Another success story from Britain that Sarma has featured is Rita Payne, an Assamese woman who became the news editor of BBC’s Asia Today programme.
But while everyone has not achieved Bajlekar’s or Payne’s level of fame, there are those who are part of pioneering ventures, inspired by their roots. Like Arunachal Pradesh native Phool Pau and her husband, Wooli, who have collaborated to run a firm, Bambootech, in Nuremberg, Germany. They design eco-homes which are creating quite a stir. The idea struck Wooli when he visited Phool Pau’s family home in Arunachal. He was fascinated by the fact that the house was built on bamboo silts (chang-ghar). Inspired by these environment friendly houses, he invented a technique through which he scientifically treated and designed the bamboo in such way that the structures they create are even stronger than traditional ones.
While Sarma, a former history student who has also worked as a child actor in films and regional language soaps, went about meeting different women across the globe and learning about their lives, she also talked to them about local lifestyles. “We talked about urban sanitation, civic amenities, and so on. They also pointed to the professionalism of the work culture there.” Making this series has been enriching at two very different levels for Sarma. First, it was a challenge to film with such a small team, but they had a great time despite the rough patches. “We were on our toes most of the time, planning much in advance according to a pre-determined time table. But despite our best efforts, there were times when things went awry. We would, for instance, miss a train by seconds, largely because of all the paraphernalia - including the camera and tripod – that the three of us would have to lug around. It used to get real tough at times.”
The second benefit was an opportunity to get to know the expats from her state, many of whom have tried to keep close ties with their roots. Assamese settled abroad are largely professionals – doctors, engineers and software professionals. “We do not have rich businessmen who could invest and contribute to the development of our state, like Gujarat or Punjab. But they can contribute with their experience and technical expertise,” she says.
She particularly enjoyed her interactions with the emerging second generation of Assamese. Many countries have a multicultural population, so while these young people have grown up in a westernized environment, they are still interested in learning traditional folk dances and songs. Sarma recalls meeting Harvard student Rima Rajbonshi who has taught Bihu (an Assamese folk dance) to her batch mates - mostly Chinese and American - although she has herself never seen a real Bihu performance.
Today, Bidexot Apun Manuh has become every Assamese’s window to the world, thanks to the national broadcaster, Doordarshan, beaming it across the state as a series for seven years running. “I wanted to show this travelogue on TV and in 2001 Doordarshan came forward. This way the programme was able to reach out to even those who live in the interiors of the State,” she says.
Sarma is always delighted when strangers – not only in towns but villages –walk up to her and talk about the show. She smiles as she recalls an occasion when an old woman came up, hugged me and thanked me for having brought the world closer to her. “That’s my reward,” she says.
By Teresa Rehman
(Women’s Feature Service)
Every year, thousands of Indians leave the country to re-locate in foreign lands. What is their motivation? How do they cope with the change? How do women in particular deal with the move and is it really as glamorous as it appears?
Young Bobbeeta Sarma was always curious to know how the large non resident Indian (NRI) community, especially women, made a life for themselves on foreign shores. But it wasn’t until one of her travels abroad a few years ago that this media entrepreneur and former ‘beauty queen’ from Assam finally got down to shooting a series of audio-visual travelogues. To start her project, she chose the most obvious subjects - NRIs from her home state. She did that because she wanted to take the world to the drawing rooms of Assamese people, many of whom harboured the dream of travelling abroad.
A trip to Toronto, Canada, to shoot a programme for the Assam Association in 2001 led to the series that Sarma called, Bidexot Apun Manuh or Loved Ones in a Foreign Land. For shooting the vignettes she teamed up with her TV producer husband, Chinmoy, and a colleague, Manas Adhikari. “We were a three-member team. Hiring technicians abroad is expensive so we did everything ourselves – right from research to make-up to sound and camera. It was like an adventure,” she recalls.
They short-listed a few families and flew around the world from time-to-time to record the interviews. From the United States and the UK to France, Germany, Norway, the Netherlands, Austria, Belgium and Switzerland in Europe, to South East Asia and the Pacific, Sarma met up women and men from diverse backgrounds and interviewed them in various settings. She wanted the interactions to be candid so the team shot in kitchens, dining rooms, living rooms, in parks and, on one occasion, even in a moving car. “We stayed with the people whom we wanted to feature in order to be able to provide an insight into their lives,” she says.
It was while living in their homes that Sarma discovered that life for expats is far from easy. And yet all of them have one thing in common – they are resilient and quick learners. The first thing most do – women in particular – in a new place is to learn how to drive. “If you cannot move around on your own, you are stranded and isolated, especially in countries like the US where public transport is almost non-existent except in the big cities,” says Sarma. Many also become efficient housekeepers, expertly using gadgets like the dishwasher, lawn mower and vacuum cleaner. “There are no maids at one’s beck and call in the West, although many people do get in help once or twice a week to help in the housecleaning, if they can afford it.”
Battling extreme weather conditions is another challenge. Living in cold climes particularly has a negative psychological effect on some. “I met a woman from North England who lived by the sea and she would pine for sunshine. When the grey spells would stretch for weeks together, she would become increasingly depressed,” Sarma relates. But what people miss the most is the comfort of a large family. “They feel terrible when often they are unable to make it back home during crucial times - like an illness or death in the family,” adds Sarma.
Yet, despite all these difficulties, most of them have done well for themselves. Some have achieved super success in their careers, while others are doing their bit, albeit in more modest ways. Sarma caught up with the UK-based TV host of Mridula’s Kitchen, Mridula Bajlekar. Although she is not a trained cookery expert, Bajlekar had a passion for cooking which she developed into a rewarding career. Besides the show, she has also written several books on Indian food. Another success story from Britain that Sarma has featured is Rita Payne, an Assamese woman who became the news editor of BBC’s Asia Today programme.
But while everyone has not achieved Bajlekar’s or Payne’s level of fame, there are those who are part of pioneering ventures, inspired by their roots. Like Arunachal Pradesh native Phool Pau and her husband, Wooli, who have collaborated to run a firm, Bambootech, in Nuremberg, Germany. They design eco-homes which are creating quite a stir. The idea struck Wooli when he visited Phool Pau’s family home in Arunachal. He was fascinated by the fact that the house was built on bamboo silts (chang-ghar). Inspired by these environment friendly houses, he invented a technique through which he scientifically treated and designed the bamboo in such way that the structures they create are even stronger than traditional ones.
While Sarma, a former history student who has also worked as a child actor in films and regional language soaps, went about meeting different women across the globe and learning about their lives, she also talked to them about local lifestyles. “We talked about urban sanitation, civic amenities, and so on. They also pointed to the professionalism of the work culture there.” Making this series has been enriching at two very different levels for Sarma. First, it was a challenge to film with such a small team, but they had a great time despite the rough patches. “We were on our toes most of the time, planning much in advance according to a pre-determined time table. But despite our best efforts, there were times when things went awry. We would, for instance, miss a train by seconds, largely because of all the paraphernalia - including the camera and tripod – that the three of us would have to lug around. It used to get real tough at times.”
The second benefit was an opportunity to get to know the expats from her state, many of whom have tried to keep close ties with their roots. Assamese settled abroad are largely professionals – doctors, engineers and software professionals. “We do not have rich businessmen who could invest and contribute to the development of our state, like Gujarat or Punjab. But they can contribute with their experience and technical expertise,” she says.
She particularly enjoyed her interactions with the emerging second generation of Assamese. Many countries have a multicultural population, so while these young people have grown up in a westernized environment, they are still interested in learning traditional folk dances and songs. Sarma recalls meeting Harvard student Rima Rajbonshi who has taught Bihu (an Assamese folk dance) to her batch mates - mostly Chinese and American - although she has herself never seen a real Bihu performance.
Today, Bidexot Apun Manuh has become every Assamese’s window to the world, thanks to the national broadcaster, Doordarshan, beaming it across the state as a series for seven years running. “I wanted to show this travelogue on TV and in 2001 Doordarshan came forward. This way the programme was able to reach out to even those who live in the interiors of the State,” she says.
Sarma is always delighted when strangers – not only in towns but villages –walk up to her and talk about the show. She smiles as she recalls an occasion when an old woman came up, hugged me and thanked me for having brought the world closer to her. “That’s my reward,” she says.
By Teresa Rehman
(Women’s Feature Service)
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Young woman's report on Egypt
Teresa Rehman
During the recent people's revolution that led to the ouster of Egypt's dictator-president Hosni Mubarak, Sondos Shabayek, a journalist, used to spend a large part of her day tweeting about the goings-on at Tahrir Square, the epicentre of the agitation.
Though the 25-year-old was more of a citizen-journalist during the uprising — she used social networking platforms such as Facebook and Twitter to do most of the reporting — she was one of the few women in the Egyptian media who witnessed the revolution as it unfolded. But that's not the only distinction young Sondos has achieved in her short career as a journalist: shattering the glass ceiling, she has become the Editor-in-Chief of an Arabic youth magazine.
“During the revolution, I was reporting small incidents using pictures or tweets. For instance, who got beaten up, what kind of force the police was using, what the protestors were chanting, and so on,” she recalls. Today, social networking sites have revolutionised how ordinary Egyptians communicate. And, according to Sondos, they have also become the official mediums of reporting. In fact, even the country's new administration is trying to reach out to the youth through the online media.
Women and journalism
But given that journalism is not a favoured career option for women in her country, how did Sondos become one? She smiles, “I always asked the stupidest questions; ‘why' followed my every line, and whenever my parents said ‘no' to anything I would argue back, ‘why not, you have to give me a reason'.” So she did have the inclination since childhood and, of course, her parents were supportive. While most middle-class Egyptians would deter their daughters from taking up the profession, largely because it is male-dominated, involves late working-hours, extensive travel and unpredictable schedules, the Shabayeks sent her to Cairo after school to enrol in a mass communications course.
Sondos concedes that journalism in Egypt is still male-dominated but adds that “the situation is better than it was a few years ago”. Her success is proof of that change. Of course, her professional rise has been steady — while studying she worked for a year as a copy editor with a youth TV programme. She then joined a monthly Arabic youth publication as an editor. Last year, she was made its Editor-in-Chief. Now she also freelances for an Arabic daily, one of the few independent ones in the country.
“I chose to work as a journalist because I realised that I have a passion to investigate, listen and write,” she says. But she feels that development and women's issues should be accorded more space.
Fortunately, there are women like her who can push this agenda forward. Before the revolution, censorship was very strict but now change is in the air. “Those who dared to cross the red line were later charged and sent for trial or fired. We will definitely enjoy more freedom in speech, we are already starting to!” she says.
Sondos has enjoyed relative freedom — she has chosen to report on subjects close to her heart. She has also been sent on “risky” assignments, even though most media houses prefer to send men. In 2008, she went to the strife-torn Gaza strip, from where she filed an extensive feature story on the lives of ordinary people there. “It was my first time crossing the border into Palestinian lands, so it was breathtaking on many levels. The humanitarian situation was appalling. Children were making toys out of stones and swings out of barricades and shattered homes. It was invigorating reporting on the political turmoil and its offshoot,” she recalls. She considers the Gaza reportage one of her best works till date.
Reporting in a hijab
While she is lucky to have bagged a daring assignment so early in her career, she knows it may not be easy every time. “It is hard for women interested in addressing daring or bold issues, or topics that are taboo in society. It is not because ours is an Islamic country — if you walk down the street, the diversity of people will prove this — but Egypt is simply conservative.”
Speaking of taboos and conservative attitudes, has the hijab-wearing journo ever faced trouble? She says, “There are times when people think of me as less capable or less smart because I wear a hijab. But that's just in the beginning. It is difficult as a hardcore feminist to write about ideas that society doesn't accept or think are right, but I have made it, as have some other young women like me out there. I have faced a bit of discrimination here and there, but I would not say that it made me feel less empowered.”
Does she have any female role models? “Not really; those I aspire to be like are all male reporters. It's not because they are any less capable but usually the nature of the job makes it hard for most women to excel,” she says.
While she is not really bothered about the challenges her work entails, what concerns her is life after marriage. She knows Egyptian husbands usually expect their wives to compromise on their career to take care of the home and children. Yet, she is optimistic. “I hope to choose a partner who will value my ambitions and be understanding and supportive,” she says.
In the meantime, she aims to excel at what she does by constantly updating herself on the latest developments. She recently completed a course in reporting on HIV-AIDS, organised by Thomson Reuters Foundation at Nairobi, Kenya. “Unfortunately, reporting on HIV-AIDS is very poor in my country… it is improving bit by bit,” she says. She also attended a short-story writing workshop organised by the British Council in Alexandria and won a prize.
Her ability to connect with anything that affects her country and the people ensures she does her job well. She says, “I have realised that journalism is a very important profession in developing countries.” And as a journalist and a young Egyptian, she sees the revolution as the beginning of another bigger and tougher revolution — that of rebuilding the country. It's the lines of the famous Sufi poet Rumi that keep her going: “Out beyond ideas of wrong doing and right doing there's a field, I'll meet you there”.
© Women's Feature Service
Teresa Rehman
During the recent people's revolution that led to the ouster of Egypt's dictator-president Hosni Mubarak, Sondos Shabayek, a journalist, used to spend a large part of her day tweeting about the goings-on at Tahrir Square, the epicentre of the agitation.
Though the 25-year-old was more of a citizen-journalist during the uprising — she used social networking platforms such as Facebook and Twitter to do most of the reporting — she was one of the few women in the Egyptian media who witnessed the revolution as it unfolded. But that's not the only distinction young Sondos has achieved in her short career as a journalist: shattering the glass ceiling, she has become the Editor-in-Chief of an Arabic youth magazine.
“During the revolution, I was reporting small incidents using pictures or tweets. For instance, who got beaten up, what kind of force the police was using, what the protestors were chanting, and so on,” she recalls. Today, social networking sites have revolutionised how ordinary Egyptians communicate. And, according to Sondos, they have also become the official mediums of reporting. In fact, even the country's new administration is trying to reach out to the youth through the online media.
Women and journalism
But given that journalism is not a favoured career option for women in her country, how did Sondos become one? She smiles, “I always asked the stupidest questions; ‘why' followed my every line, and whenever my parents said ‘no' to anything I would argue back, ‘why not, you have to give me a reason'.” So she did have the inclination since childhood and, of course, her parents were supportive. While most middle-class Egyptians would deter their daughters from taking up the profession, largely because it is male-dominated, involves late working-hours, extensive travel and unpredictable schedules, the Shabayeks sent her to Cairo after school to enrol in a mass communications course.
Sondos concedes that journalism in Egypt is still male-dominated but adds that “the situation is better than it was a few years ago”. Her success is proof of that change. Of course, her professional rise has been steady — while studying she worked for a year as a copy editor with a youth TV programme. She then joined a monthly Arabic youth publication as an editor. Last year, she was made its Editor-in-Chief. Now she also freelances for an Arabic daily, one of the few independent ones in the country.
“I chose to work as a journalist because I realised that I have a passion to investigate, listen and write,” she says. But she feels that development and women's issues should be accorded more space.
Fortunately, there are women like her who can push this agenda forward. Before the revolution, censorship was very strict but now change is in the air. “Those who dared to cross the red line were later charged and sent for trial or fired. We will definitely enjoy more freedom in speech, we are already starting to!” she says.
Sondos has enjoyed relative freedom — she has chosen to report on subjects close to her heart. She has also been sent on “risky” assignments, even though most media houses prefer to send men. In 2008, she went to the strife-torn Gaza strip, from where she filed an extensive feature story on the lives of ordinary people there. “It was my first time crossing the border into Palestinian lands, so it was breathtaking on many levels. The humanitarian situation was appalling. Children were making toys out of stones and swings out of barricades and shattered homes. It was invigorating reporting on the political turmoil and its offshoot,” she recalls. She considers the Gaza reportage one of her best works till date.
Reporting in a hijab
While she is lucky to have bagged a daring assignment so early in her career, she knows it may not be easy every time. “It is hard for women interested in addressing daring or bold issues, or topics that are taboo in society. It is not because ours is an Islamic country — if you walk down the street, the diversity of people will prove this — but Egypt is simply conservative.”
Speaking of taboos and conservative attitudes, has the hijab-wearing journo ever faced trouble? She says, “There are times when people think of me as less capable or less smart because I wear a hijab. But that's just in the beginning. It is difficult as a hardcore feminist to write about ideas that society doesn't accept or think are right, but I have made it, as have some other young women like me out there. I have faced a bit of discrimination here and there, but I would not say that it made me feel less empowered.”
Does she have any female role models? “Not really; those I aspire to be like are all male reporters. It's not because they are any less capable but usually the nature of the job makes it hard for most women to excel,” she says.
While she is not really bothered about the challenges her work entails, what concerns her is life after marriage. She knows Egyptian husbands usually expect their wives to compromise on their career to take care of the home and children. Yet, she is optimistic. “I hope to choose a partner who will value my ambitions and be understanding and supportive,” she says.
In the meantime, she aims to excel at what she does by constantly updating herself on the latest developments. She recently completed a course in reporting on HIV-AIDS, organised by Thomson Reuters Foundation at Nairobi, Kenya. “Unfortunately, reporting on HIV-AIDS is very poor in my country… it is improving bit by bit,” she says. She also attended a short-story writing workshop organised by the British Council in Alexandria and won a prize.
Her ability to connect with anything that affects her country and the people ensures she does her job well. She says, “I have realised that journalism is a very important profession in developing countries.” And as a journalist and a young Egyptian, she sees the revolution as the beginning of another bigger and tougher revolution — that of rebuilding the country. It's the lines of the famous Sufi poet Rumi that keep her going: “Out beyond ideas of wrong doing and right doing there's a field, I'll meet you there”.
© Women's Feature Service
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Victory Against The State
A people’s movement against privatisation of water in Assam has led to the redrafting of the state water policy three times Teresa Rehman reports
Picture this. Jadu Pegu, a farmer in remote Dhemaji district of Assam installing a water metre in his small hut and having to pay taxes for the water his forefathers have been using for the past several years. Ethnic groups in Assam would have had to pay tax for water to which they had free access till date if the draft state water policy was passed in its original form.
But a pro-active people’s movement against ‘privatisation and commodification of water’ led to the redrafting of the state water policy three times in Assam. Succumbing to pressure from several NGOs, the leading one being Krishak Mukti Sangram Samiti (KMSS), the state government removed several clauses on the draft policy. The people’s groups submitted a people’s policy to the government.
And for the first time the farmers were directly involved in protesting and consultative meets on the draft policy. Akhil Gogoi of KMSS told Tehelka, “I think such a movement is unprecedented in any part of the country where the government was forced to change the draft policy three times. We reiterated the primacy of community rights over water. We are still awaiting the final draft.” The original draft aimed at ‘privatising water’ was rejected by the civil society.
“The draft turned water, a traditionally enjoyed natural resource into a commodity on which the people of the state will have to pay taxes. We feared that the draft water policy was an attempt to curb traditional rights of indigenous people and hand it over to the multinational corporations,” he adds.
It is a positive sign that the civil society recommendations were accepted by the government and even by senior bureaucrats. Amrit Kumar Goldsmith, a representative of the civil society in the Task Force to draft the water policy said that they wanted to contextualise the National Water Policy 2002 and give a voice to the people.
“We wanted to protect them from economically-hard decisions like water tax, In the consultation that followed there were different tone and tenor but we tried to bring about a policy that is acceptable to all,” adds Goldsmith.
The civil society groups were against privatisation and reiterated that the government should be the trustee and take people into consideration at all points of time when major decisions are made. They tried to ensure that the poor is not taxed and government will make provisions to ensure safe drinking water to the poorest of the poor. Emphasis was also laid on medium-sized dams instead of mega dams, which do not create problems in the areas downstream. Issues relating to privatization of water was also debated at the World Water Forum held in Istanbul, Turkey recently.
Interestingly, the civil society groups also ensured that enough space is created for women at the decision-making and implementation levels. “We tend to ignore the contribution of women inspite of the fact that women all around the world are responsible for getting water and feeding their families. When water is scarce, women and children struggle everyday to get water from a distant water source. Every woman knows the value of water,” says Bandita Acharya, one of the two women in the drafting committee of the policy.
Acharya claimed that they could incorporate few things like no charges on natural water, an exempted category like tax on farmers and small vendors and community participation in each and every aspect. The final draft of the policy would hopefully be more ‘pro-people’ and be geared towards protection of the traditional rights of the people over their natural resources. The policy may also specify the need and approach for coping with the possible impact of climate.
Posted on Apr 03, 2009
A people’s movement against privatisation of water in Assam has led to the redrafting of the state water policy three times Teresa Rehman reports
Picture this. Jadu Pegu, a farmer in remote Dhemaji district of Assam installing a water metre in his small hut and having to pay taxes for the water his forefathers have been using for the past several years. Ethnic groups in Assam would have had to pay tax for water to which they had free access till date if the draft state water policy was passed in its original form.
But a pro-active people’s movement against ‘privatisation and commodification of water’ led to the redrafting of the state water policy three times in Assam. Succumbing to pressure from several NGOs, the leading one being Krishak Mukti Sangram Samiti (KMSS), the state government removed several clauses on the draft policy. The people’s groups submitted a people’s policy to the government.
And for the first time the farmers were directly involved in protesting and consultative meets on the draft policy. Akhil Gogoi of KMSS told Tehelka, “I think such a movement is unprecedented in any part of the country where the government was forced to change the draft policy three times. We reiterated the primacy of community rights over water. We are still awaiting the final draft.” The original draft aimed at ‘privatising water’ was rejected by the civil society.
“The draft turned water, a traditionally enjoyed natural resource into a commodity on which the people of the state will have to pay taxes. We feared that the draft water policy was an attempt to curb traditional rights of indigenous people and hand it over to the multinational corporations,” he adds.
It is a positive sign that the civil society recommendations were accepted by the government and even by senior bureaucrats. Amrit Kumar Goldsmith, a representative of the civil society in the Task Force to draft the water policy said that they wanted to contextualise the National Water Policy 2002 and give a voice to the people.
“We wanted to protect them from economically-hard decisions like water tax, In the consultation that followed there were different tone and tenor but we tried to bring about a policy that is acceptable to all,” adds Goldsmith.
The civil society groups were against privatisation and reiterated that the government should be the trustee and take people into consideration at all points of time when major decisions are made. They tried to ensure that the poor is not taxed and government will make provisions to ensure safe drinking water to the poorest of the poor. Emphasis was also laid on medium-sized dams instead of mega dams, which do not create problems in the areas downstream. Issues relating to privatization of water was also debated at the World Water Forum held in Istanbul, Turkey recently.
Interestingly, the civil society groups also ensured that enough space is created for women at the decision-making and implementation levels. “We tend to ignore the contribution of women inspite of the fact that women all around the world are responsible for getting water and feeding their families. When water is scarce, women and children struggle everyday to get water from a distant water source. Every woman knows the value of water,” says Bandita Acharya, one of the two women in the drafting committee of the policy.
Acharya claimed that they could incorporate few things like no charges on natural water, an exempted category like tax on farmers and small vendors and community participation in each and every aspect. The final draft of the policy would hopefully be more ‘pro-people’ and be geared towards protection of the traditional rights of the people over their natural resources. The policy may also specify the need and approach for coping with the possible impact of climate.
Posted on Apr 03, 2009
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Heart and Craft
A man makes it his mission to check erosion in tribal culture
By Teresa Rehman
India’s North-east is like your attic. Not a place you visit very often nor one that gets too much attention. The region is rarely in the news and is at best left to fend for itself, often with disastrous results. Progress here has actually meant the arrival of western detritus. But Mutua Bahadur thinks he can change all that.
What Bahadur has achieved is phenomenal. In a region where cultural erosion is rapid, he has singlehandedly managed to spawn institutions to check that. Manipuri bamboo and cane works, jewellery, pottery, ancient manuscripts, paintings and textiles adorning miniature tribal dolls—there are 6,000 specimens now in his collection. He claims to possess the largest private collection of coins in the North-east with around 4,000 gold, silver and bell-metal coins. He is also the first to collect facsimiles of ancient Manipuri stone inscriptions despite shoe-string finances.
Artist, author, social worker, numismatist and anthropologist all rolled into one, Bahadur is a living encyclopaedia on Manipuri culture. It all started in the 1960s when the cultural identity crisis among tribal groups of Manipur and Nagaland triggered Bahadur’s efforts to identify and restore the traditional customs of the 29 Manipuri tribes. Within five years he produced a five-volume treatise, Tales About the Art and Culture of Manipur—a much sought-after book. This was the take-off point. For in these five years, Bahadur also began collecting cultural icons.
Bahadur’s exotic collection was initially housed in his residence till he established a museum in 1978 on the first floor of a rented building at Imphal. Urged by Kapila Vatsyayan, the then Union additional education secretary who had come to see his collection, he christened it Mutua Museum.
Since its inception, around 20 illustrative books, 20 other projects, several educational charts and slides and video documentation have been undertaken by the Mutua Museum. It has taken part in the restoration of defaced monuments and court mural paintings of Manipur. A major exercise was the setting up of a cultural complex for preservation and promotion of the material heritage of north-east India in 1993 in the village of Andro, 26 km from Imphal, where a “sacred fire” from ancient days burns perpetually. Besides, a “living museum” was established at Purul village in Senapati district to preserve the traditionally carved houses of the tribals.
Trips to the back of beyond have fossilised the antiquarian’s personal life. Bahadur recalls an incident. On his return from a field trip to Tamenglong district for a few weeks he found himself fending objects thrown by his irate wife. He found out why: his house was flooded. Flying utensils aren’t the only threats. Once a tribal chief threatened to kill him for wanting to know the meaning of a tribal work of art.
The trek to the Imphal museum has been arduous. Born in a poor family, Bahadur started by making and selling recycled-paper toys. His father, a Burmese Army soldier who loved travelling, inculcated the spirit of adventure in his son. Though Bahadur never completed his graduation, he is now an examiner for awarding PhDs in Manipuri culture at Manipur University. Recognition has also come in the form of the Special Designer Award in 1972 and the state Kala Academy Award in Folk Arts in 1974.
Bahadur plans to set up a composite complex of the culture of South-East Asia at Andro. Th. Ravikanta Singh, an anthropologist and lecturer and a close associate, echoes his sentiments: “There are many facets of north-east India like pottery and basket making that are similar to those in south-east Asian culture.” Says Bahadur: “It’s an ongoing process and I am dedicating the year 2001 to collecting musical instruments and tribal head-gear ornaments.”
Truth, enthusiasm and discipline are the driving forces that motivate Bahadur. Inaocha Mangang, his companion since 1978 and a graduate from Visvabharati, Santiniketan, sums it all up: “Bahadur himself is a rare specimen who should be preserved in the museum for posterity.”
In a world of neglect and uncertainty it’s nice to believe someone’s still in charge of the past.
A man makes it his mission to check erosion in tribal culture
By Teresa Rehman
India’s North-east is like your attic. Not a place you visit very often nor one that gets too much attention. The region is rarely in the news and is at best left to fend for itself, often with disastrous results. Progress here has actually meant the arrival of western detritus. But Mutua Bahadur thinks he can change all that.
What Bahadur has achieved is phenomenal. In a region where cultural erosion is rapid, he has singlehandedly managed to spawn institutions to check that. Manipuri bamboo and cane works, jewellery, pottery, ancient manuscripts, paintings and textiles adorning miniature tribal dolls—there are 6,000 specimens now in his collection. He claims to possess the largest private collection of coins in the North-east with around 4,000 gold, silver and bell-metal coins. He is also the first to collect facsimiles of ancient Manipuri stone inscriptions despite shoe-string finances.
Artist, author, social worker, numismatist and anthropologist all rolled into one, Bahadur is a living encyclopaedia on Manipuri culture. It all started in the 1960s when the cultural identity crisis among tribal groups of Manipur and Nagaland triggered Bahadur’s efforts to identify and restore the traditional customs of the 29 Manipuri tribes. Within five years he produced a five-volume treatise, Tales About the Art and Culture of Manipur—a much sought-after book. This was the take-off point. For in these five years, Bahadur also began collecting cultural icons.
Bahadur’s exotic collection was initially housed in his residence till he established a museum in 1978 on the first floor of a rented building at Imphal. Urged by Kapila Vatsyayan, the then Union additional education secretary who had come to see his collection, he christened it Mutua Museum.
Since its inception, around 20 illustrative books, 20 other projects, several educational charts and slides and video documentation have been undertaken by the Mutua Museum. It has taken part in the restoration of defaced monuments and court mural paintings of Manipur. A major exercise was the setting up of a cultural complex for preservation and promotion of the material heritage of north-east India in 1993 in the village of Andro, 26 km from Imphal, where a “sacred fire” from ancient days burns perpetually. Besides, a “living museum” was established at Purul village in Senapati district to preserve the traditionally carved houses of the tribals.
Trips to the back of beyond have fossilised the antiquarian’s personal life. Bahadur recalls an incident. On his return from a field trip to Tamenglong district for a few weeks he found himself fending objects thrown by his irate wife. He found out why: his house was flooded. Flying utensils aren’t the only threats. Once a tribal chief threatened to kill him for wanting to know the meaning of a tribal work of art.
The trek to the Imphal museum has been arduous. Born in a poor family, Bahadur started by making and selling recycled-paper toys. His father, a Burmese Army soldier who loved travelling, inculcated the spirit of adventure in his son. Though Bahadur never completed his graduation, he is now an examiner for awarding PhDs in Manipuri culture at Manipur University. Recognition has also come in the form of the Special Designer Award in 1972 and the state Kala Academy Award in Folk Arts in 1974.
Bahadur plans to set up a composite complex of the culture of South-East Asia at Andro. Th. Ravikanta Singh, an anthropologist and lecturer and a close associate, echoes his sentiments: “There are many facets of north-east India like pottery and basket making that are similar to those in south-east Asian culture.” Says Bahadur: “It’s an ongoing process and I am dedicating the year 2001 to collecting musical instruments and tribal head-gear ornaments.”
Truth, enthusiasm and discipline are the driving forces that motivate Bahadur. Inaocha Mangang, his companion since 1978 and a graduate from Visvabharati, Santiniketan, sums it all up: “Bahadur himself is a rare specimen who should be preserved in the museum for posterity.”
In a world of neglect and uncertainty it’s nice to believe someone’s still in charge of the past.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Wood Work
A pensioner converts wasteland into a forest with over 50 species
By Teresa Rehman
Jungalee, protector of the forest". It may sound like a character out of a Tolkien book, but this Jungalee is for real. Ex-serviceman Jagat Singh Chaudhary from the tiny village of Kot Malla, 4,500 ft up in the hills of Rudra Prayag, was bestowed this title at an environmental seminar in the Government Inter College at Jasauli in 1993 for having converted 1.5 hectares of wasteland into a jungle. His wife had her reservations about the epithet; people, she feared, would laugh at her husband. Nothing like that happened, for Jungalee is a famous man now and is often invited to deliver lectures at schools and colleges. He wears his unusual title with pride: "Jungalee does not mean uncivilised but being one with nature."
It all started in 1974 when Chaudhary, during his vacations, worked on his barren patch of land to grow plants for fodder and fuel. This solved the problem of the household women who used to go on long, dangerous and arduous treks to collect fodder. After his retirement from the BSF in 1980, he took to developing his forest in all earnest. His pension was the seed money with which he planted around 56 species-from trees like the Manipuri oak and deodar to evergreen grasses like teliya and namcha, rare medicinal herbs like Salem panja (Dactylorhiza hatagirea), kuth (Saussurea lappa), sameva or tagar (Valeriana hardwickii), flowers like roses and lilies and climbers like the Barbati bean. "The unique feature of this forest is the presence of some species that grow only at very high altitudes," points out Vijay Jasula, a social worker.
The first glow of recognition for Chaudhary's work came almost 20 years later. In 1993, IAS officer R.S. Tolia surveyed the jungle and issued a circular that it should become the model for agro-forestry for the whole of the Uttaranchal area. Many awards and accolades have followed since. Among others, he has won the "Pariyavaran Premi" and "Him Gaurav" awards.
Green Bucks: Chaudhary's efforts have led to growing ecological awareness in the surrounding villages. People have begun cultivating cash crops and pulses, which has resulted in soil conservation and also enhanced family incomes. "Jungalee's jungle has inspired us to grow fruits and flowers on a small scale," says Mahender Singh, a young farmer. "I was able to collect six bottles of honey this year due to the flowers I planted." Chaudhary himself says the villagers now seem to have a sense of belonging with his forest. He remembers the time when a forest fire threatened his patch and it was only the brave assistance of the villagers that saved it.
Scholars, too, recognise the value of the man's work. Says Bhaskar Sinha, who is working on a doctoral thesis on Himalayan ecology at Delhi's Jawaharlal Nehru University: "Many rehabilitation projects are being taken up by the government and NGOs involving research and enormous capital input. But Jungalee's creation is wholly an outcome of his commitment, dedication and hard work."
Chaudhary's eco-friendliness extends to a dislike for chemical fertilisers. He uses only natural manure and digs compost pits to store bio-mass. He also distributes saplings and medicinal herbs to the villagers free of cost. Vehemently opposed to mono-culture farming, he intends to harness the forest resources and check unemployment by effecting a change in the "money-order" economy of the region with alternatives like bee keeping and rabbit farming. He is also trying to grow bamboo and tea and to encourage the setting up of forests on community lands.
"The government should encourage people who have sacrificed their land to benefit the environment," says Jungalee. "I am growing oak knowing well that I cannot use it for commercial use since felling oaks is banned." He also campaigns for subsidies on cooking gas and electricity, without which people will continue to hack down trees for fuel. But these are minor plaints that the jungle man can afford to forget when he sits down for dinner: chapatis, dal, vegetables, pickles and for desert, honey-all from his unique plot.
ends
A pensioner converts wasteland into a forest with over 50 species
By Teresa Rehman
Jungalee, protector of the forest". It may sound like a character out of a Tolkien book, but this Jungalee is for real. Ex-serviceman Jagat Singh Chaudhary from the tiny village of Kot Malla, 4,500 ft up in the hills of Rudra Prayag, was bestowed this title at an environmental seminar in the Government Inter College at Jasauli in 1993 for having converted 1.5 hectares of wasteland into a jungle. His wife had her reservations about the epithet; people, she feared, would laugh at her husband. Nothing like that happened, for Jungalee is a famous man now and is often invited to deliver lectures at schools and colleges. He wears his unusual title with pride: "Jungalee does not mean uncivilised but being one with nature."
It all started in 1974 when Chaudhary, during his vacations, worked on his barren patch of land to grow plants for fodder and fuel. This solved the problem of the household women who used to go on long, dangerous and arduous treks to collect fodder. After his retirement from the BSF in 1980, he took to developing his forest in all earnest. His pension was the seed money with which he planted around 56 species-from trees like the Manipuri oak and deodar to evergreen grasses like teliya and namcha, rare medicinal herbs like Salem panja (Dactylorhiza hatagirea), kuth (Saussurea lappa), sameva or tagar (Valeriana hardwickii), flowers like roses and lilies and climbers like the Barbati bean. "The unique feature of this forest is the presence of some species that grow only at very high altitudes," points out Vijay Jasula, a social worker.
The first glow of recognition for Chaudhary's work came almost 20 years later. In 1993, IAS officer R.S. Tolia surveyed the jungle and issued a circular that it should become the model for agro-forestry for the whole of the Uttaranchal area. Many awards and accolades have followed since. Among others, he has won the "Pariyavaran Premi" and "Him Gaurav" awards.
Green Bucks: Chaudhary's efforts have led to growing ecological awareness in the surrounding villages. People have begun cultivating cash crops and pulses, which has resulted in soil conservation and also enhanced family incomes. "Jungalee's jungle has inspired us to grow fruits and flowers on a small scale," says Mahender Singh, a young farmer. "I was able to collect six bottles of honey this year due to the flowers I planted." Chaudhary himself says the villagers now seem to have a sense of belonging with his forest. He remembers the time when a forest fire threatened his patch and it was only the brave assistance of the villagers that saved it.
Scholars, too, recognise the value of the man's work. Says Bhaskar Sinha, who is working on a doctoral thesis on Himalayan ecology at Delhi's Jawaharlal Nehru University: "Many rehabilitation projects are being taken up by the government and NGOs involving research and enormous capital input. But Jungalee's creation is wholly an outcome of his commitment, dedication and hard work."
Chaudhary's eco-friendliness extends to a dislike for chemical fertilisers. He uses only natural manure and digs compost pits to store bio-mass. He also distributes saplings and medicinal herbs to the villagers free of cost. Vehemently opposed to mono-culture farming, he intends to harness the forest resources and check unemployment by effecting a change in the "money-order" economy of the region with alternatives like bee keeping and rabbit farming. He is also trying to grow bamboo and tea and to encourage the setting up of forests on community lands.
"The government should encourage people who have sacrificed their land to benefit the environment," says Jungalee. "I am growing oak knowing well that I cannot use it for commercial use since felling oaks is banned." He also campaigns for subsidies on cooking gas and electricity, without which people will continue to hack down trees for fuel. But these are minor plaints that the jungle man can afford to forget when he sits down for dinner: chapatis, dal, vegetables, pickles and for desert, honey-all from his unique plot.
ends
Sunday, March 20, 2011
">TV transforms Assam's election experience
Today, television has brought elections closer home. And common people are giving vent to their pent-up feelings and frustrations on the various shows on television. Candidates are no longer mere smiling photographs on banners and posters. They are live characters on TV, says TERESA REHMAN
Posted Saturday, Mar 19 12:31:15, 2011
A news capsule on the satellite channel DY365 goes like this. They show a woman in her domestic setting. There is music in the backdrop. The anchor asks, “Do you know this lady? She was an ordinary lady looking after her house. She even objected to her husband leaving his job as a civil servant and joining politics. But today, she is herself in the electoral fray.” More music.
Then the anchor answers, “She is none other than Monika Bora, tainted Congress leader Ripun Bora’s wife.” Then they go into the history of Ripun Bora, the civil servant turned politician who was arrested by the Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) for trying to bribe an official in connection with a murder case of Daniel Topno, a tea tribe leader. He was suspended from the party but the Assam Pradesh Congress Committee (APCC) revoked his suspension just one and a half month before the polls.
The anchor then questions, “Will this lady vacate her seat in case her husband would want to contest? Would she have been happier if her husband got the ticket instead of her? The camera pans on the woman who seems perturbed by the questions. She murmurs, “Well, of course. I would be happier if my husband got a clean chit and got a ticket himself.” The anchor then states, “Well, this homemaker has been going to her in-laws house for a long time. But this time, she will go as a candidate to her constituency.”
This is just one instance of tangy television reporting as the state goes to the polls next month. With the Election Commission announcing a two-phase Assembly election for Assam, on April 4 and April 11 respectively, mundane election reporting has become a dramatic and sprightly affair with frenzied political activities taking place in full media glare. The satellite channels aired from Guwahati are in a tizzy, trying to get those little nuggets of information that would keep the readers glued to their television sets.
The channels have come up with interesting taglines -- “Not inside a studio but we are there in every constituency”, “From the voter’s home to a candidate’s mind”. From multihued profiles of candidates and their constituencies to heated debates on who would form the next government, to disgruntled candidates airing their grievances and even sting operations on the misdeeds of politicians – it’s a stimulating medley that is being televised. Political analysts and veteran journalists engage in heated poll-related debates.
The nascent television boom in the state has made elections an exhilarating experience. There was a time when denizens of remote villages sent one or two representatives to the district headquarter to find out who had been given a ticket to contest elections in their constituency. They used to eagerly wait in the village square to get the news and then have raucous discussions. But today, television is giving them a minute by minute account of the entire process – right from the screening process to the final ticket allotment.
Today, television has brought elections closer home. And common people are giving vent to their pent-up feelings and frustrations on the various shows on television. These voices of the masses had always been eclipsed in the whole election hungama. One such angry villager rues in front of the television screen, “Since independence, we did not get a single MLA who loved his constituency. But we have had enough of this. Now, we have seen on television how money for the different development schemes have been usurped by the politicians. We want a change now.”
The candidates too have been able to cut across geographical barriers with the people in their constituency. They are no longer mere ‘smiling photographs’ on banners and posters. They are live characters on TV, actively voicing their opinions and engaging in mud-slinging their opponents on the small screen.
Another phenomenon which has gained popularity is ‘Tandav Pratibadh’ or violent live protests. these are the most striking scenes on television today. Live telecast of ransacking of party offices and ripping apart party banners in various parts of Assam by peeved party workers seems to have a ripple effect and being replicated in various parts of the state. Of course, the television camera has a ubiquitous presence whenever there are such protests.
It was interesting to note how these channels covered how Trinamool Congress roped in disgruntled ticket seekers from major political parties like the Congress and the AGP. They showed how just few days ago, the party office was vacated by the landlord due to non-payment of rent. But now this party was the refuge of veteran big-time politicians who were denied tickets by their respective parties.
Moreover, one person who manages raise the TRP of the channels is farmer rights activist Akhil Gogoi of the Krishak Mukti Sangram Samiti, who has launched a crusade against the incumbent Congress government. He has been holding regular press meets against the Tarun Gogoi government. In his latest press meet, he appealed to the voters out the corrupt Congress government. He made 50 ‘maha’ or major allegations of corruption against the government, the inputs for which they have acquired by using the Right to Information Act.
All the news channel seems to have its own agenda. With the channel Newslive adopting a distinct pro-Congress stand, the channel DY365 is playing the role of a constructive opposition. NETV, on the other hand is taking a moderate stand. And now even petty workers of political parties know which channel to contact when they have to air their news. And till the elections get over, viewers in remote parts of the state will wait with baited breath for any kind of ‘breaking news’.
ends
Today, television has brought elections closer home. And common people are giving vent to their pent-up feelings and frustrations on the various shows on television. Candidates are no longer mere smiling photographs on banners and posters. They are live characters on TV, says TERESA REHMAN
Posted Saturday, Mar 19 12:31:15, 2011
A news capsule on the satellite channel DY365 goes like this. They show a woman in her domestic setting. There is music in the backdrop. The anchor asks, “Do you know this lady? She was an ordinary lady looking after her house. She even objected to her husband leaving his job as a civil servant and joining politics. But today, she is herself in the electoral fray.” More music.
Then the anchor answers, “She is none other than Monika Bora, tainted Congress leader Ripun Bora’s wife.” Then they go into the history of Ripun Bora, the civil servant turned politician who was arrested by the Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) for trying to bribe an official in connection with a murder case of Daniel Topno, a tea tribe leader. He was suspended from the party but the Assam Pradesh Congress Committee (APCC) revoked his suspension just one and a half month before the polls.
The anchor then questions, “Will this lady vacate her seat in case her husband would want to contest? Would she have been happier if her husband got the ticket instead of her? The camera pans on the woman who seems perturbed by the questions. She murmurs, “Well, of course. I would be happier if my husband got a clean chit and got a ticket himself.” The anchor then states, “Well, this homemaker has been going to her in-laws house for a long time. But this time, she will go as a candidate to her constituency.”
This is just one instance of tangy television reporting as the state goes to the polls next month. With the Election Commission announcing a two-phase Assembly election for Assam, on April 4 and April 11 respectively, mundane election reporting has become a dramatic and sprightly affair with frenzied political activities taking place in full media glare. The satellite channels aired from Guwahati are in a tizzy, trying to get those little nuggets of information that would keep the readers glued to their television sets.
The channels have come up with interesting taglines -- “Not inside a studio but we are there in every constituency”, “From the voter’s home to a candidate’s mind”. From multihued profiles of candidates and their constituencies to heated debates on who would form the next government, to disgruntled candidates airing their grievances and even sting operations on the misdeeds of politicians – it’s a stimulating medley that is being televised. Political analysts and veteran journalists engage in heated poll-related debates.
The nascent television boom in the state has made elections an exhilarating experience. There was a time when denizens of remote villages sent one or two representatives to the district headquarter to find out who had been given a ticket to contest elections in their constituency. They used to eagerly wait in the village square to get the news and then have raucous discussions. But today, television is giving them a minute by minute account of the entire process – right from the screening process to the final ticket allotment.
Today, television has brought elections closer home. And common people are giving vent to their pent-up feelings and frustrations on the various shows on television. These voices of the masses had always been eclipsed in the whole election hungama. One such angry villager rues in front of the television screen, “Since independence, we did not get a single MLA who loved his constituency. But we have had enough of this. Now, we have seen on television how money for the different development schemes have been usurped by the politicians. We want a change now.”
The candidates too have been able to cut across geographical barriers with the people in their constituency. They are no longer mere ‘smiling photographs’ on banners and posters. They are live characters on TV, actively voicing their opinions and engaging in mud-slinging their opponents on the small screen.
Another phenomenon which has gained popularity is ‘Tandav Pratibadh’ or violent live protests. these are the most striking scenes on television today. Live telecast of ransacking of party offices and ripping apart party banners in various parts of Assam by peeved party workers seems to have a ripple effect and being replicated in various parts of the state. Of course, the television camera has a ubiquitous presence whenever there are such protests.
It was interesting to note how these channels covered how Trinamool Congress roped in disgruntled ticket seekers from major political parties like the Congress and the AGP. They showed how just few days ago, the party office was vacated by the landlord due to non-payment of rent. But now this party was the refuge of veteran big-time politicians who were denied tickets by their respective parties.
Moreover, one person who manages raise the TRP of the channels is farmer rights activist Akhil Gogoi of the Krishak Mukti Sangram Samiti, who has launched a crusade against the incumbent Congress government. He has been holding regular press meets against the Tarun Gogoi government. In his latest press meet, he appealed to the voters out the corrupt Congress government. He made 50 ‘maha’ or major allegations of corruption against the government, the inputs for which they have acquired by using the Right to Information Act.
All the news channel seems to have its own agenda. With the channel Newslive adopting a distinct pro-Congress stand, the channel DY365 is playing the role of a constructive opposition. NETV, on the other hand is taking a moderate stand. And now even petty workers of political parties know which channel to contact when they have to air their news. And till the elections get over, viewers in remote parts of the state will wait with baited breath for any kind of ‘breaking news’.
ends
Friday, February 25, 2011
Arunachal Justice
By Teresa Rehman
The state finally has a jail, but it remains far from adequate.
In late 2009, Arunachal Pradesh opened its first jail, five years after its construction had been completed. But little did the batch of 19 under-trial prisoners who were transferred at the time realise that they were a blessed lot. They had escaped a fate that, since the state’s creation in 1987, all others in their situation had been forced to undergo, involving not only appalling lack of hygiene for prisoners but blatantly illegal judicial procedures. The opening of the new jail constitutes a silver lining of sorts in the series of untold narratives of gross human-rights violations that have constituted standard procedure for prisoners awaiting trial in the state. Until the recent change, Arunachal had been the only state in India where ‘police remand’ and ‘judicial remand’ meant the same thing. In most parts of the state, it still does.
Take the example of Hura Rari, a middle-aged businessman from Naharlagun in Arunachal. For 14 months, Rari was held in custody on kidnapping charges in a dark, dingy lock-up at a police station. At the time, Rari’s situation was similar to all of those awaiting or undergoing trial in the state. Even today, many police stations have two separate cells – one for police lock-up and another for judicial lock-up. Some suspects are forced to remain in the police station for three or four years, until they are convicted or released on bail. (If convicted, prisoners are transferred to district jails in Assam.) These police cells can become so overcrowded that prisoners take turns sleeping while the rest stand. Beyond the aesthetics and physical discomforts, this is a gross violation of the Prisons Act of 1894, which clearly states that a ‘prison’ cannot include ‘any place for the confinement of prisoners who are exclusively in the custody of the police’.
After his 14-month stint, Rari was fortunate to receive bail on health grounds. (His case is still under trial.) But he shudders today as he recalls his confinement at the Ziro police station in Lower Subansiri district. He says that an average of five to ten prisoners were held in his lock-up every day, accused of crimes from murder and rape to arson and theft. The room had no fan, mosquito net or light, and little ventilation; although there was an attached toilet, it had limited water, with a grimy toilet that was only cleaned once during his stay. ‘One day, there were around 20 prisoners in the cell, and we held a strike as the food was inedible,’ he says. ‘Things improved for a few days, but then it was back to square one again.’ Rari adds that he was lucky to get out when he did; another man in the cell, accused of murder, had been there for nine years.
Even the opening of the new jail – in Jollang, near the capital, Itanagar – is far from adequate in this massive state of more than 83,700 sq km. Sunil Mow, a lawyer with the Human Rights Law Network (HRLN), an NGO, says, ‘One jail in Itanagar cannot serve the entire state. There are eight districts in eastern Arunachal and eight districts in western Arunachal. The jail is a one- to two-day journey from some of these remote districts, and in these areas those who are under trial are still being kept in inhuman conditions in police lock-ups.’
The plight of women prisoners remains particularly difficult. In 2006, a woman prisoner was raped in the lock-up at Deomali police station, in Tirap district. The officer-in-charge was the main accused, and was eventually dismissed from his job. Mapung Tadar, vice-chairperson of the State Commission for Women, says that due to the ongoing lack of infrastructure, adult women are being kept with minor juveniles. Unfortunately, this ‘solution’ only compounds a central problem in the Arunachal judicial system: a lack of facilities leading to adults and juveniles being dealt with together while awaiting or on trial.
What child?
For the past decade, the Arunachal state administration has been blatantly flouting the provisions of the Juvenile Justice (Care and Protection of Children) Act of 2000, which states that no child can be put in a jail or a lock-up. In addition, a Juvenile Justice Board is supposed to be constituted for each district or group of districts, consisting of two social workers and a magistrate. This is an attempt to change the nature of inquiry in the state, with the presence of the social workers indicating a decriminalisation of the administration of juvenile justice. Yet no Juvenile Justice Board or Court has been constituted, nor has any observation home (a temporary shelter for juveniles), anywhere in the state. Thus, juveniles arrested in connection with criminal cases are still tried by judicial magistrates and kept along with adult inmates in police custody. Sunil Mow cites numerous instances of children below 18 lodged in Arunachal lock-ups along with hardcore criminals, some for upwards of four years.
For instance, 12-year-old Arjun (name changed) was arrested by the Itanagar police for petty stealing – blankets, plastic cups, etc. He was lodged in the Itanagar police station on two occasions, once for five months and again for nine months, both times with adult criminals. Arjun says he was verbally abused by both the police and others in the lock-up, at times allegedly being forced to massage some of the other prisoners. The long incarceration made him weak mentally and physically; now 16, he complains of chest pain and headaches, and is on painkillers and antibiotics for some of the injuries he suffered while in detention. Arjun’s mother recalls, ‘He used to send me a list of medicines, soap, oil and other essentials. The blankets were full of lice, and when I brought him home I had to wash him down with Dettol.’
Another juvenile, Sonia Byabang, was likewise arrested and charged with stealing when he was just 12. ‘I was so young and I didn’t even know what it meant to steal,’ he says. ‘I was just trying to ride my uncle’s motorcycle to meet my father, but the police said I was trying to steal the bike.’ He adds that the police lied, stating in their report that he was 19 years old. Thereafter, he spent two months at the police lock-up in the Itanagar police station. After he was released, Byabang says that he did felt ‘tainted’, and began staying away from school and his friends. Thereafter, he says, the police made him a regular scapegoat, and repeatedly picked him up on suspicion for various crimes.
Still, some have been able to challenge such procedures. Chelle John was 13 years old when he was detained along with adult criminals, and subsequently brought a case before the courts on the issue. He underwent testing at a hospital and was certified below 18 years of age. Needless to say, such cases underline the susceptibility of the Arunachal criminal-justice system to manipulation. While the opening of the new jail is a positive step in terms of ameliorating some outstanding rights issues, it is hardly an answer to the problems faced by juveniles awaiting justice in the state.
Bureaucrat judge
Justice moves notoriously slowly in Arunachal, with trials invariably delayed. Much of this is due to the fact that the executive branch of the state government doubles as the judiciary in the lower courts, thus requiring, for instance, the deputy commissioner to act as the district sessions judge. As such, the accused are often forced to languish even longer in lock-ups, as government officials give priority to their routine administrative work. Of course, the pace can quicken dramatically if the accused can afford a lawyer.
In this regard, most worrying is the ramification that the lower judiciary in Arunachal is not independent, but rather is a specific part of the government machinery. ‘All these years,’ Sunil Mow says, ‘bureaucrats with practically no knowledge of law have been making a mockery of the entire judicial system.’ Recently, two session courts were set up in Arunachal, one to cover the western half and another to cover the eastern half of the state. Although again an important step in the right direction, a mere two courts remain far from adequate in a state of this size.
Mow says that the welfare of those awaiting trial has simply never been a priority for the state government, but expresses hope that the opening of the new jail indicates forward momentum on a range of issues. Indeed, another jail is currently being built in Tezu, in the far east, while the 11th Finance Commission granted INR 100 million to build new jail infrastructure. Yet incredibly, out of that money seven new ‘judicial lock-ups’ are now being set up in various police stations – thus continuing to flout basic law. The ‘Arunachal’ version of justice looks set to continue for some time.
--Teresa Rehman is a journalist and media consultant based in Northeast India.
By Teresa Rehman
The state finally has a jail, but it remains far from adequate.
In late 2009, Arunachal Pradesh opened its first jail, five years after its construction had been completed. But little did the batch of 19 under-trial prisoners who were transferred at the time realise that they were a blessed lot. They had escaped a fate that, since the state’s creation in 1987, all others in their situation had been forced to undergo, involving not only appalling lack of hygiene for prisoners but blatantly illegal judicial procedures. The opening of the new jail constitutes a silver lining of sorts in the series of untold narratives of gross human-rights violations that have constituted standard procedure for prisoners awaiting trial in the state. Until the recent change, Arunachal had been the only state in India where ‘police remand’ and ‘judicial remand’ meant the same thing. In most parts of the state, it still does.
Take the example of Hura Rari, a middle-aged businessman from Naharlagun in Arunachal. For 14 months, Rari was held in custody on kidnapping charges in a dark, dingy lock-up at a police station. At the time, Rari’s situation was similar to all of those awaiting or undergoing trial in the state. Even today, many police stations have two separate cells – one for police lock-up and another for judicial lock-up. Some suspects are forced to remain in the police station for three or four years, until they are convicted or released on bail. (If convicted, prisoners are transferred to district jails in Assam.) These police cells can become so overcrowded that prisoners take turns sleeping while the rest stand. Beyond the aesthetics and physical discomforts, this is a gross violation of the Prisons Act of 1894, which clearly states that a ‘prison’ cannot include ‘any place for the confinement of prisoners who are exclusively in the custody of the police’.
After his 14-month stint, Rari was fortunate to receive bail on health grounds. (His case is still under trial.) But he shudders today as he recalls his confinement at the Ziro police station in Lower Subansiri district. He says that an average of five to ten prisoners were held in his lock-up every day, accused of crimes from murder and rape to arson and theft. The room had no fan, mosquito net or light, and little ventilation; although there was an attached toilet, it had limited water, with a grimy toilet that was only cleaned once during his stay. ‘One day, there were around 20 prisoners in the cell, and we held a strike as the food was inedible,’ he says. ‘Things improved for a few days, but then it was back to square one again.’ Rari adds that he was lucky to get out when he did; another man in the cell, accused of murder, had been there for nine years.
Even the opening of the new jail – in Jollang, near the capital, Itanagar – is far from adequate in this massive state of more than 83,700 sq km. Sunil Mow, a lawyer with the Human Rights Law Network (HRLN), an NGO, says, ‘One jail in Itanagar cannot serve the entire state. There are eight districts in eastern Arunachal and eight districts in western Arunachal. The jail is a one- to two-day journey from some of these remote districts, and in these areas those who are under trial are still being kept in inhuman conditions in police lock-ups.’
The plight of women prisoners remains particularly difficult. In 2006, a woman prisoner was raped in the lock-up at Deomali police station, in Tirap district. The officer-in-charge was the main accused, and was eventually dismissed from his job. Mapung Tadar, vice-chairperson of the State Commission for Women, says that due to the ongoing lack of infrastructure, adult women are being kept with minor juveniles. Unfortunately, this ‘solution’ only compounds a central problem in the Arunachal judicial system: a lack of facilities leading to adults and juveniles being dealt with together while awaiting or on trial.
What child?
For the past decade, the Arunachal state administration has been blatantly flouting the provisions of the Juvenile Justice (Care and Protection of Children) Act of 2000, which states that no child can be put in a jail or a lock-up. In addition, a Juvenile Justice Board is supposed to be constituted for each district or group of districts, consisting of two social workers and a magistrate. This is an attempt to change the nature of inquiry in the state, with the presence of the social workers indicating a decriminalisation of the administration of juvenile justice. Yet no Juvenile Justice Board or Court has been constituted, nor has any observation home (a temporary shelter for juveniles), anywhere in the state. Thus, juveniles arrested in connection with criminal cases are still tried by judicial magistrates and kept along with adult inmates in police custody. Sunil Mow cites numerous instances of children below 18 lodged in Arunachal lock-ups along with hardcore criminals, some for upwards of four years.
For instance, 12-year-old Arjun (name changed) was arrested by the Itanagar police for petty stealing – blankets, plastic cups, etc. He was lodged in the Itanagar police station on two occasions, once for five months and again for nine months, both times with adult criminals. Arjun says he was verbally abused by both the police and others in the lock-up, at times allegedly being forced to massage some of the other prisoners. The long incarceration made him weak mentally and physically; now 16, he complains of chest pain and headaches, and is on painkillers and antibiotics for some of the injuries he suffered while in detention. Arjun’s mother recalls, ‘He used to send me a list of medicines, soap, oil and other essentials. The blankets were full of lice, and when I brought him home I had to wash him down with Dettol.’
Another juvenile, Sonia Byabang, was likewise arrested and charged with stealing when he was just 12. ‘I was so young and I didn’t even know what it meant to steal,’ he says. ‘I was just trying to ride my uncle’s motorcycle to meet my father, but the police said I was trying to steal the bike.’ He adds that the police lied, stating in their report that he was 19 years old. Thereafter, he spent two months at the police lock-up in the Itanagar police station. After he was released, Byabang says that he did felt ‘tainted’, and began staying away from school and his friends. Thereafter, he says, the police made him a regular scapegoat, and repeatedly picked him up on suspicion for various crimes.
Still, some have been able to challenge such procedures. Chelle John was 13 years old when he was detained along with adult criminals, and subsequently brought a case before the courts on the issue. He underwent testing at a hospital and was certified below 18 years of age. Needless to say, such cases underline the susceptibility of the Arunachal criminal-justice system to manipulation. While the opening of the new jail is a positive step in terms of ameliorating some outstanding rights issues, it is hardly an answer to the problems faced by juveniles awaiting justice in the state.
Bureaucrat judge
Justice moves notoriously slowly in Arunachal, with trials invariably delayed. Much of this is due to the fact that the executive branch of the state government doubles as the judiciary in the lower courts, thus requiring, for instance, the deputy commissioner to act as the district sessions judge. As such, the accused are often forced to languish even longer in lock-ups, as government officials give priority to their routine administrative work. Of course, the pace can quicken dramatically if the accused can afford a lawyer.
In this regard, most worrying is the ramification that the lower judiciary in Arunachal is not independent, but rather is a specific part of the government machinery. ‘All these years,’ Sunil Mow says, ‘bureaucrats with practically no knowledge of law have been making a mockery of the entire judicial system.’ Recently, two session courts were set up in Arunachal, one to cover the western half and another to cover the eastern half of the state. Although again an important step in the right direction, a mere two courts remain far from adequate in a state of this size.
Mow says that the welfare of those awaiting trial has simply never been a priority for the state government, but expresses hope that the opening of the new jail indicates forward momentum on a range of issues. Indeed, another jail is currently being built in Tezu, in the far east, while the 11th Finance Commission granted INR 100 million to build new jail infrastructure. Yet incredibly, out of that money seven new ‘judicial lock-ups’ are now being set up in various police stations – thus continuing to flout basic law. The ‘Arunachal’ version of justice looks set to continue for some time.
--Teresa Rehman is a journalist and media consultant based in Northeast India.
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