It would have been better had we been swept away. We wouldn’t have had to die every moment like this
Five months after the killer waves swamped her life, home for Shephali and her two-year-old son is a small tent covered by a torn plastic sheet. Her husband has deserted her and her 70-year-old father Suren Halder has been struck off the list of tsunami victims eligible for free rations.
Near the Chouldari government school shelter in South Andaman, you will find scores of Shephalis and Sorens—each with their own stories of names being stuck off official lists, of those who pulled strings to get relief, of an indifferent administration.
‘‘What have we done to deserve this? Instead of giving shelter to the deserving who lost everything, why is the administration allotting housing units to those who pull strings? Why did they scrap the names of hundreds of people from the shelter and ration list?’’ asks Kanchan Mandal, who says he was getting free ration till his name was struck of the list.
Mandal’s questions, like those of his friends Motilal Halder and Ganesh Biswas, get no answers from officials. Just this terse counter from Secretary (Relief and Rehabilitation) P K Goel: ‘‘Yes, we have received complaints but how can we verify the facts?’’
And it’s not as if those living in official shelters are happy, either. In Bambooflat, 20 km away, residents in the 240 temporary shelters complain of life in ‘‘tin cages’’, acute water scarcity and clogged toilets.
Says Bharati Madhu, ‘‘They are treating us like animals. Can 10 people live, sleep and cook in this kind of a place. There is no supply of water for over three-four days at a stretch. Whenever we try to say something, the officials threaten to throw us out.’’
Sultana Begum of Namunaghar, employed with the Public Works Department, admits that much more needs to be done. ‘‘There is loose soil all around. No retaining walls have been built nor have drains been laid. One heavy shower and this place will be hell,’’ she says.
‘‘The officers are forcing us to stay here just to tell the world that within five-six months, all relief camps have been closed. What they will never tell you is that no one is willing to stay in these tin cages without proper sanitation and hygiene,’’ says 70-year-old L P Shrivastav, another Bambooflat resident.
‘‘Can people live here, with clogged latrines and overflowing septic tanks? Whenever we complain, officials pass the buck. For making any complaint, we have to travel for over three hours to reach Port Blair, if ferry service is not available,’’ says Mathew, Shrivastav’s neighbour.
The administration’s move to construct temporary shelters has kicked up a political storm, too.
Asks former BJP MP Bishnu Pada Ray: ‘‘When the Supreme Court had said that shelters should be made out of available local resources, why were tin sheets used? It is impossible to believe that these units have been built at Rs 1,35,000 each. Where has the money gone?’’
Secretary Goel prefers to roll out the official numbers. ‘‘We got about Rs 96 crore for building these shelters. Nearly 9,500 shelters have been built and we got a lot of support from Kerala and West Bengal governments while a large part of the money came from the Centre. Our objective was to provide relief to all. By October, we will start building permanent shelters.’’