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Vol. 1, March 2017
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VOICES OF VICTIMS – A SPECIMEN OF REPRESSION BY THE RACIST REGIME IN BHUTAN
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My name is Dilip Bishwo. I used to be a simple teacher with simple thoughts and simple dreams. I used to teach in Bhur Primary School which was about 8 kilometres from my hometown of Toribari both in south Bhutan. During the Dasehra festival, myself, my wife and my parents were trudging on a hot sunny day from Toribari to Chuwabari some 4 kilometres to our relative’s place to celebrate our festival. We were hoping somebody would give us a ride. Suddenly a white hylux van stopped in front of us. To my surprise the person seated on the front seat was no other than the Dzongdah or the chief district officer. He scolded me left and right saying you must wear the goh all the time , the northern Bhutanese dress unsuitable for the hot southern Bhutanese weather. He warned me that there is only one place to go – that is the jail. I was wearing cotton pants with a jeans jacket and on the same day about an hour earlier one of my other teacher friend in Leopani was similarly apprehended and warning given. He was wearing daura sural as it was our festival day.
As the school resumed after the holidays, serious order from the district education office awaited me. It was a letter wherein the officer had outlined the policies of the government requiring all to wear the so called national dress. He instructed me that I was found wearing the dawra sural in the lateral road by reliable sources. Through the letter he asked me to submit a written explanation immediately. With a heavy heart I wrote the explanation saying I was not aware of the regulation. A copy of the original letter is hereby reproduced for all to see. |
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Things seemed to move on but I could see people looking at me with suspicious eyes. Then the district office resorted to other ways of punishing me. Using the influence of some northern Bhutanese teachers, they started pestering me to go on a transfer. Consequently, I was transferred to Kheng Goshing school which was officially 8 days walk in the remotest part of the country. I was pained when I had to go leaving my wife and two months old son behind. I could not bear this torture of family separation. After 15 days, I left Goshing quietly and joined my wife and kid in Sibsoo – my in-laws place.
But no sooner had I reached there I learnt that that the sleepy little town had been swamped by the royal Bhutan police and the royal Bhutan army. Having received a carta blanc the so called Bhutanese security forces had a field day. They coerced the people to live under horrendous circumstances – rape, loot, arrest, torture, intimidation, arson and plunder. We fled to neighboring Indian town of Jaldhaka to save our lives. In the meantime the situation in other parts of southern Bhutan including Gaylephug, was no less chilling. My parents and other people in the villages were coerced to sign the so called voluntary migration forms at gun point and systematically evicted from generations of their homes and hearth in Bhutan. The rest of the population too fell an easy prey to this sinister design of the royal government of Bhutan.
But no sooner had I reached there I learnt that that the sleepy little town had been swamped by the royal Bhutan police and the royal Bhutan army. Having received a carta blanc the so called Bhutanese security forces had a field day. They coerced the people to live under horrendous circumstances – rape, loot, arrest, torture, intimidation, arson and plunder. We fled to neighboring Indian town of Jaldhaka to save our lives. In the meantime the situation in other parts of southern Bhutan including Gaylephug, was no less chilling. My parents and other people in the villages were coerced to sign the so called voluntary migration forms at gun point and systematically evicted from generations of their homes and hearth in Bhutan. The rest of the population too fell an easy prey to this sinister design of the royal government of Bhutan.
