Longing for home, and a clean toilet

Bhavni Soren believes there is at least one advantage to not having enough blankets to keep her warm at night. Cold, she awakens before daybreak, and is able to go to the nearby stream to relieve herself with other women. “At home, we had the luxury of waking up a little late in winter and going to the toilet within our own compound. But that is not the case here,” says Soren.
Currently living in a relief camp in Lalachor village, Soren is originally from Khoksaguri village a few kilometres away. She is one of the thousands of women living in relief camps across Kokrajhar and Sonitpur districts in Assam, after the gruesome attack by the armed Songbijit faction of the National Democratic Front of Bodoland (NDFB). As of January 1, nearly 2.5 lakh displaced people were living in 118 relief camps across four districts of Kokrajhar, Chirang, Sonitpur and Udalguri. While many have since returned home, others continue living in camps, fearing more attacks if they return.
Soren is a Santhal, one of the adivasi groups targeted by militants on December 23. Ethnicity matters little for women and girls in relief camps, which also house Bodo families. But gender does. Hopni Mardi, a student of Jamduar College in Gossaigaon, Kokrajhar district, says, “Most officials from the government and NGOs who have visited our camps so far have been male. And they only speak to the men. Nobody asks us if we have any troubles we might be facing as women, and our own men would silence us if we tried to speak up,” she says. Former IAS officer and activist Harsh Mander, who visited relief camps in Sonitpur after the December attack, agrees that women are worst affected. “Women are hardly asked about their specific needs, and I have seen this across all the relief camps built to accommodate people after any large scale tragedy.”
Women have several concerns, primary among them is camp sanitation. There are just about four toilets for each relief camp though the numbers living there would easily go beyond 500. And so as Soren points out, for women, morning ablutions require systematic planning. But with few of them having watches, let alone alarms, it’s difficult to wake up before daybreak. Sarala Hasda, for one, relies on her baby waking up to be fed, and that’s when she knows it is time. When any of the women are unable to relieve themselves at daybreak, it means a lot of planning for the rest of the day. “We have to wait for a very long time before the boys loitering nearby get the cue that we want them to leave. It is not easy to find a spot to sit down without being visible,” says another woman.
While those in camps have been provided with ration, the women complain that no soap is provided. “We rub our hands in the soil after we have relieved ourselves. But we worry about keeping the children clean,” says Hasda.
The situation is worse for women who are menstruating. Mardi explains how though she used sanitary napkins at home, she isn’t able to use any now since the market near the relief camp is mostly shut. “Besides, there are other important things to be purchased, like food,” she says, adding the women have no option but to cut up clothes to use as pads. The soiled cloth is washed for reuse, and often hung in a corner inside the tent where due to the absence of sunlight, it remains damp even as it is used again.
Mothers of toddlers worry about their children’s nutrition. Only some camps confirm receiving food supplements for children, as per the integrated child development scheme (ICDS). Mardi, who could not appear for her exams which were scheduled when the violence broke out, hopes to use her spare time in a fruitful way while living in the camp. “Maybe I will make a list of the needs of the women here, and when officials arrive, I can submit it to them,” she hoped. Until the next big car with relief materials come in, getting their hands on basic necessities will continue to be a struggle for the women living in the camps.