The Story of a Tribal Doctor:

The year is 1980. The time of the birth of Corporate Medical Care in
India, which today gives one the option of walking into hospitals
like five star hotels, vying with each other in the provision of
luxuries and creating that special "ambience".

Deep down in the heartland of Chhatisgarh (part of Madhya Pradesh at
the time), young Kusumbai, vice-president of the worker's union at
the Bhilai Steel Plant in Dalli Rajhara, was in labour. The
experienced village hands were unable to deliver her. Concerned
family and fellow tribals took her to the hospital at the Bhilai
Steel Plant. She was denied admission. The reason: she was only a
contract labourer. The hospital was meant for the regular staff of
the Plant. No exception could be made for a local tribal, even in a
medically urgent matter of life or death. Kusumbai could only be
treated at the ESIS hospital, 80 km away. On the way she died. The
enraged tribals carried her body from village to village, showing
proof of the worth of their lives to the society they toiled for.

A year later was born the Shaheed Hospital, set up by the tribal
mine workers themselves. Begun as a simple clinic, it grew to a 60
bedded hospital by 1994. This was pioneered by a team of 3 doctors,
led by a dedicated and determined paediatrician trained at CMC
Vellore, Dr. Binayak Sen. Dr. Sen came with a background in public
health, having been a faculty member of the Center for Social
Medicine and Community Health at the Jawaharlal Nehru University,
New Delhi. These doctors were willing to work for a paltry pay in a
risky area, where many of their colleagues would have feared to step
in.

Once the hospital was established, the Dr. Binayak Sen and his wife
moved on to work with the NGO Rupantar, to improve the health of the
local tribal advasis, instead of only those involved in working in
the mines for the Steel Plant.

In an innovative scheme, village women were trained in primary and
preventive health care. These women, called "Mitanin" went into the
villages and started to change harmful practices gradually. One of
these practices was to starve women for 5 or 6 days after delivery
and give the new born cow or goat's milk in a cloth. Many maternal
and infant deaths were caused by this practice.

The State government of the time recognized the change and
implemented this as a government-civil society partnership in 2000.
Slowly, but steadily, the health statistics of the region improved.
Rural Infant Mortality Rate (IMR) in Chhatisgarh was down from 85
per 1000 live births in 2002 to 65 per 1000 live births in 2005
(national rural IMR being 64 per thousand live births).

Diarrhoeal diseases were treated with ORS by Mitanins, drastically
decreasing the death rates due to diarrhea and dehydration. Prior to
this effort, the ORS was taboo in the tribal society.

The empowered Mitanins now moved into Social Action. They complained
about the poor state of the anganwadis and claimed their right to
food, an important step to counter the rampant malnourishment.

Malnourishment has been a scourge on this naturally rich and fertile
area. The tribals were caught between the Naxalites and the security
forces as between the devil and the deep. They had to dance out of
the way of the devil and jump across the deep to survive.
More recently, the government forces had taken to rounding up of
tribals in masses to camps across the region. These camps were
mainly in two locations: the local schools and the local primary
health centers. So this also helped achieve the dubious distinction
of shutting down the only available health care or education in
large areas.

The tribals were also forced to leave their homes and villages,
leaving them not only uncultivated but also at the risk of loosing
their rights to the land as they had no proper documentation. Their
capacity to generate income dwindled, as most people in the camps
had to hire themselves out for cheap labor near the camp site.

Along with malnutrition, and aided by it, flourished variety of
diseases like diarrhea and measles out breaks, caused by over-
crowding, non-availability of potable water or toilets in the camps.

To add insult to injury, adivasi women were subjected to sexual
abuse in these camps. A fact finding team sent by Committee Against
Violence on Women (CAVOW) found that 21 women had been killed, 3
after having breasts and genitals mutiliated. 37 were raped (23 gang
raped) or molested. The perpetrators of this crime were rogue
members of the recently formed Salwa Judum (which employed often
forcibly, adivasis to fight Naxalites and often also used them as
human shields to form the outermost security rings in the camps;
these adivasis were made to turn against their own fellow adivasis,
for the monetary gains of a regular salary and hopes of promotion to
the regular police force), the CRPF and the Naga battalion. None of
the crimes commited by these exemplary men in uniform are recorded.

Not only this, many adivasis began to fall victims to the bullets of
the security forces under the guise of "encounters". The truth
behind many of these murders remain buried with the victims.

Recently many national dailies carried reports of fake "encounters"
in Kashmir by men in uniform, hoping for promotions at the cost of
numerous young and promising lives. There, the mothers of the
victims were able to raise their voice and ask for justice for their
slain sons.

Who, in Chhatisgarh, can dare raise their voice against the
atrocities commited on them without any proof, by the very state
that is supposed to protect and uplift them? The wives and mothers
here are illiterate, malnourished, and have already lost or are at
the risk of loosing their men. Inspite of all this, even if they did
raise their voice, will their cry for justice be allowed to go
beyond the thick jungles of Chhatisgarh?

To see the injustice meted out to his people, living with them
through their suffering, stirred Dr. Binayak Sen and his wife Ilina
into action. They became active participants in the local chapter of
People's Union for Civil Liberty and raised their voice along with
others, against the atrocities on the tribals, to be heard on behalf
of the silent and silenced adivasis. It was a risk they knew they
may have to eventually pay a high price for. True enough, they did.

On the 14th of May, 2007, Dr. Sen was picked up by the same security
forces which had picked up a number of his adivasi people and
patients, earlier. Many of them had never returned. The State,
instead of honoring the man who changed the profile of the health in
the area deemed it fit to put him behind bars. This man, who spent
his life to build the adivasi society, who was and is respected by
all, who was even called on by the authorities to be a neutral
observer in the cause of human rights, who never condoned violence
by anyone, but made every effort possible to advocate peace. One
more voice that might be heard beyond the jungles of Chhatisgarh,
crying for the justice of its ancient adivasi tribes, is now sought
to be silenced.

There was a time when the sound of peace in places like Punjab
seemed to be an improbable dream. Then came a change in the attitude
of the State, which brought about many schemes for economic
development and reconciliation in the community. Today that strife
is only a memory there.

Chhatisgarh can still claim peace in the land if those who hold
authority so desire. Freeing those living as refugees in their own
land, allowing them to go back to cultivation will set them on track
for an economic recovery. It will also enable medical and
educational institutions meant for the benefit of the tribals to be
open once more. The need of the hour is economic empowerment and
community reconciliation.

Persons such as Dr. Binayak Sen and Ilina Sen, who have the trust of
the adivasis and also the respect of the national and international
intellectual community will be valuable instruments in starting such
a peace and reconciliation process. The authorities interested in
the welfare of the people should recognize this.

The adivasis of Chhatisgarh thirst for freedom to live without fear
in their own ancestral land. Daring to raise his voice for their
safety, going well beyond the call of his duties as a physician,
their beloved doctor has lost his freedom trying to protect theirs.

It is time the cries are heard. For the freedom of the adivasis and
their Tribal Doctor. The land where even primary health care is
closed down by the state, begs for its doctor to be returned. It
begs for the hands that helped its infants live to be free to do
their job once more. For the man who was willing to risk it all to
stay and care, where no one dares to. Let the doctor go back to his
tribals; let him care for them, treat them and be free to build
their lives again.

C. K. Dennisa Davidson
23rd May, 2007