<p>A hard-core tribal, who could not speak either Hindi, English or Bangla, spoke to Deccan Herald in Santhali language recounting the nightmarish experience. His version was translated into Hindi by a local villager: “Sister Valsa used to stay at the house of Binoj Hembrum, the Parganait (the Head of the village heads). It’s barely 50 yards from my house. She had floated an outfit - Rajmahal Pahad Bachao Samiti, and worked from Binoj’s residence.<br /><br />But after a tiff between Binoj’s son Paiseel and his wife over the ‘prolonged stay’ of Valsa in their house, Sister shifted to my house, which is the last hutment on Rajmahal hills.<br /><br />On that fateful night of November 15, I had gone off to sleep early. However, I got up at 11.15 pm when my son Sona Ram Hembrum, who works as a machine operator for Panem Coalmines, returned home. <br /><br />He was changing clothes when we found that nearly 45 to 50 persons had surrounded my house. It was completely dark as there was no power and we had put out the lamp too. Suddenly five people trooped inside shouting, “Where is Valsa?” As I said I had no idea, they thrashed me and moved towards Sona Ram’s room where he was changing. Sona said, “I have just returned after completing my duty. I have no idea.” He too was thrashed.<br /><br />‘Got her!’<br /><br />In the commotion, Valsa, who was sleeping in the adjacent room, sensed something was fishy. She perhaps sent an SoS to Amrapara police. But even before anyone could react, one of the intruders entered her room and shouted, ’Mil gayi. Yahan hai Valsa (Got her. Here is Valsa).’ <br /><br />Two more persons, who were carrying daon (a sharp-edged weapon similar to sword) trooped in. We could hear Valsa screaming for help, but within seconds they hacked her to death. Blood splashed onto the walls of the tiny room (7 feet x 5 feet) where she was sleeping. Once they were sure that she was dead, they came out and shouted slogans, ‘Inquilab Zindabad’. “Neeche dekho. Chehra dekhne ka koshish karoge to tumko bhi Valsa ke tarah kaat denge. (Keep your eyes downward. If any one tries to look at our face or identify us, he will be cut into pieces like Valsa),” another marauder, who had not covered his face, shouted.<br /><br />Valsa was lying in a pool of blood. Everything was over in a few minutes. Our life was shattered. When we tried to find out why no one came out to rescue her, we were told that groups of four marauders each were guarding the houses of nearby villagers. <br /><br />Since then, we are living in constant fear. My son Sona Ram too has not gone to office after that fateful night, as he fears that he too might be killed for giving shelter to Valsa.”</p>.<p><a href="../content/209159/murder-most-foul.html">Murder most foul</a> </p>.<p><a href="../content/209155/why-shibu-soren-kept-silent.html">Why Shibu Soren kept silent?</a> </p>.<p><a href="../content/209154/enduring-legacy-missionaries-kerala.html">The enduring legacy of missionaries from Kerala</a> </p>
<p>A hard-core tribal, who could not speak either Hindi, English or Bangla, spoke to Deccan Herald in Santhali language recounting the nightmarish experience. His version was translated into Hindi by a local villager: “Sister Valsa used to stay at the house of Binoj Hembrum, the Parganait (the Head of the village heads). It’s barely 50 yards from my house. She had floated an outfit - Rajmahal Pahad Bachao Samiti, and worked from Binoj’s residence.<br /><br />But after a tiff between Binoj’s son Paiseel and his wife over the ‘prolonged stay’ of Valsa in their house, Sister shifted to my house, which is the last hutment on Rajmahal hills.<br /><br />On that fateful night of November 15, I had gone off to sleep early. However, I got up at 11.15 pm when my son Sona Ram Hembrum, who works as a machine operator for Panem Coalmines, returned home. <br /><br />He was changing clothes when we found that nearly 45 to 50 persons had surrounded my house. It was completely dark as there was no power and we had put out the lamp too. Suddenly five people trooped inside shouting, “Where is Valsa?” As I said I had no idea, they thrashed me and moved towards Sona Ram’s room where he was changing. Sona said, “I have just returned after completing my duty. I have no idea.” He too was thrashed.<br /><br />‘Got her!’<br /><br />In the commotion, Valsa, who was sleeping in the adjacent room, sensed something was fishy. She perhaps sent an SoS to Amrapara police. But even before anyone could react, one of the intruders entered her room and shouted, ’Mil gayi. Yahan hai Valsa (Got her. Here is Valsa).’ <br /><br />Two more persons, who were carrying daon (a sharp-edged weapon similar to sword) trooped in. We could hear Valsa screaming for help, but within seconds they hacked her to death. Blood splashed onto the walls of the tiny room (7 feet x 5 feet) where she was sleeping. Once they were sure that she was dead, they came out and shouted slogans, ‘Inquilab Zindabad’. “Neeche dekho. Chehra dekhne ka koshish karoge to tumko bhi Valsa ke tarah kaat denge. (Keep your eyes downward. If any one tries to look at our face or identify us, he will be cut into pieces like Valsa),” another marauder, who had not covered his face, shouted.<br /><br />Valsa was lying in a pool of blood. Everything was over in a few minutes. Our life was shattered. When we tried to find out why no one came out to rescue her, we were told that groups of four marauders each were guarding the houses of nearby villagers. <br /><br />Since then, we are living in constant fear. My son Sona Ram too has not gone to office after that fateful night, as he fears that he too might be killed for giving shelter to Valsa.”</p>.<p><a href="../content/209159/murder-most-foul.html">Murder most foul</a> </p>.<p><a href="../content/209155/why-shibu-soren-kept-silent.html">Why Shibu Soren kept silent?</a> </p>.<p><a href="../content/209154/enduring-legacy-missionaries-kerala.html">The enduring legacy of missionaries from Kerala</a> </p>
