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Only unmasked protester that stormed LegCo explains July 1 drama

Hundreds of protesters stormed Hong Kong’s Legislative Council on the 22nd anniversary of the city’s handover to Chinese rule on July 1, breaking glass panels, windows, dismantling furniture, daubing graffiti in the chamber and attempting to put up the British colonial flag.

Brian Leung Kai-ping, 25, was among those who entered the legislature – and the only one who has openly revealed his identity that night.

The storming made international headlines and marked a “quantum leap” for the entire movement against the extradition bill and the city’s push for democracy, he said.

In an exclusive interview with the South China Morning Post, via a Telegram phone call – the social networking tool widely used in the movement – he explained his actions and why he had no regrets.

Watch South China Morning Post’s video here.

Where were you on Monday (July 1) and what was your role?

I skipped another major rally to stay around the Legislative Council complex for nearly eight hours, keeping a close eye on every move. Like most protesters, we had been waiting for this opportunity to make a statement inside Legco. There was, of course, no clear consensus at the time how long we should occupy it, which underlined the very nature of the extradition bill movement – decentralised, leaderless and spontaneous. We were improvising.

After an hour and a half, reporters observed you removing your mask and asking everyone to stay. Why did you do that?

At the time, more and more people, wary of police countermoves, started to leave the Legco chamber.

I made a risky move to step on the desk of one lawmaker, removed my face mask, and shouted at the top of my voice: “The more people here, the safer we are. Let’s stay and occupy the chamber, we can’t lose no more.”

Some protesters warned me not to remove my mask, but I felt it was the defining moment of the night. I felt we ought to appeal to the crowds to join in and form a barrier and support those inside the Legco complex. No one could tell when we would step foot in Legco again.

As police were drawing closer and closer, after some deliberation, most decided to end the siege. I volunteered to be in front of the camera to read out the key demands of protesters in the chamber.

The last thing I wished to see, after all the action taken, was to have no clear demands put on the table.

If we didn’t do that, the public might only remember the vandalism and point fingers at us as a mob. That would also hand the government a convenient reason to prosecute each and every one of us, which would mark yet another setback to civil society like in the 2014 Occupy movement.

But weren’t the actions of the protesters that day, along with the damage done to Legco, violent?

Be clear that any damage was only done to the Legco building or properties within, not so much to any person or even police officers. Protesters have been restrained in their use of force.

It is worthwhile to note the graffiti was not merely vandalising. For instance, protesters spray-painted and covered up “People’s Republic of China”, leaving behind only “Hong Kong Special Administrative Region”. That is a clear mistrust of the two-systems principle. Most of the other graffiti was about commemorating the three lives lost in this movement.

So they were only telling the public that this was not just mob action but to register the accumulated frustrations of an unfair electoral system. Compared with the death of three people who used their lives to deliver a message, does the damage to several glass frames even count?

So what was the young protesters’ state of mind in being part of the July 1 protest and other sieges?

The pursuit of freedom and democracy is what fundamentally drove hundreds of protesters on Monday into Legco, the same goal shared by hundreds of thousands who took to the streets earlier. The government has thus far turned a blind eye to our demands, and there was no real change nor real actions tabled. If Carrie Lam claimed herself ready to be more humble, why did she not make clear the suspended bill was completely withdrawn, a move that could easily settle the controversy?

Or, the government could choose not to charge protesters arrested earlier, which we saw happened to those in Taiwan’s Sunflower movement. Or, it could task an independent inquiry into police’s excessive use of force.
Any of these would be welcomed by the civil society, but the government refused to take these calls on board.

You mentioned the three deaths. These are suicide cases. Isn’t it wrong to glamorise them and call them martyrs?

It was evident that protesters were so outraged that three lives were sacrificed throughout this movement, when peaceful means were almost all exhausted. Young protesters were at a point of desperation.

We were not in a position to pass any judgment on their decisions but what the protesters could do was to honour their faith.

One may well argue that time is supposed to be on young people’s side. But with the disqualification and jailing of pro-democracy lawmakers and activists after 2014 “umbrella movement”, the entire generation was banned from the political system.
We do not have the luxury of our parents to settle down in another place. Nor do we have the burden of a 30-year mortgage to worry about. Young people have nothing to lose, their only hope is to stay safe to see the sun rise, and hope to join protest another day. We want democracy, now.

Can you share your personal background, your schooling, your parents?

Hong Kong’s social movement has always inspired my academic study. After graduating from the University of Hong Kong with a dual degree in law and politics, I chose for my master’s thesis the topic of how civil society could help democratic transition and prevent authoritarian regimes.

I have always aspired to become a professor and return to teach Hong Kong students to be socially aware in the future.

I really don’t want to mention my family, as I don’t think that’s helpful.

What’s next for the movement? And what’s next for you? And are you in Hong Kong?

Civil society has already exhausted every possible peaceful means, and it is not trying to exercise violence for the sake of violence. The government needs to reflect on its response.

For my own part, I am not sure whether I can fly to the United States this September to continue my PhD studies in political science at the University of Washington. I am still considering various options, and seeking as much advice as I can.

While I am not yet a political dissident in exile, that is a real threat ahead of me and my peers if the government chooses to press charges against all those who entered Legco, who played their part in this protest.

I am blessed to receive legal advice and other recommendations from my social network, while remaining financially independent through a role as a teaching assistant. For those who may be 17 and 18 years old, there could be real consequences and it is worrying.

This story by Alvin Lum was originally published by the South China Morning Post on July 5. Read more here .

BEHIND THE STORY
Alvin Lum is an award-winning political journalist specialising in Hong Kong politics and the city’s justice system. He sought to understand the reason why protesters stormed the council even after the government had shelved the bill. This led him to contact Brian, who had left Hong Kong right after the movement, through a mutual acquaintance.Published on Jul 5, his exclusive interview was a scoop, Alvin being the first journalist to speak to the only protest leader who was willing to take off his mask during the trashing of Hong Kong’s Legislative Council. “That interview, when it was published, helped fill the void why protesters still need to resort to this kind of more radical measures which has never happened before in Hong Kong,” Alvin said. Tammy Tam, editor-in-chief, South China Morning Post added: “Alvin’s exclusive interview with Brian Leung reflects the vital role SCMP has played in independently covering and revealing insights into an important chapter of this still ongoing unprecedented political crisis in our city. We will continue in our unwavering commitment to report these developments with professionalism and courage.”

Battling the spectre of fires in densely populated areas

Fires in commercial establishments do more damage than setting buildings ablaze.

Lives are lost, businesses disrupted and wounds take years to heal.

In Bangladesh, a survey by the Fire Service and Civil Defence headquarters, in 2017, showed that only 129 of 3,786 establishments in Dhaka, the country’s capital city, were not classified as “Risky” or “Extremely Risky”.

The results signal the high risk of accidents taking place.

On Mar 28, 2019, a massive fire engulfed the FR Tower in Dhaka’s commercial Banani area, killing 26 people and leaving around 100 people injured.

Barely a month ago, at least 70 people were killed after a fire broke out in an apartment building that was reportedly also used as a chemicals warehouse and spread to nearby buildings.

Fire accidents are not uncommon in densely populated Bangladesh owing to lax safety regulations and poor building conditions.

Officials say the problem is that the laws requiring buildings to have safety measures was enforced only in 2006.

There is a treasure trove of risk assessments conducted by urban planners over the years all nailing down the same conclusion — the city needs to be protected.

“In 2017 we surveyed over 3,500 schools, colleges, universities, hotels banks, hospitals, media houses and shopping markets within Dhaka city to assess their vulnerability to fire, and what we found was pretty frightening,” said Major AKM Shakil Newaz, the director of operations at the Bangladesh Fire Service and Civil Defence headquarters.

“None of the buildings built before 2006 have the things necessary for fire protection, because the Bangladesh National Building Code (BNBC) was yet to come into effect,” he added.

The BNBC was drafted in 1993 and published in the form of a government gazette, but was not enforced as a legally binding document until a decade and a half later.

The factors examined were quite simple and gauged a building’s basic fire-safety measures – does the building have firefighting equipment? Is it heavily populated? Does it have emergency exits? Does the establishment practise evacuation drills? Was there any chance of an electrical fire? Is there an underground water reservoir?

“All high-rise constructions that took place after 2006 needed to get a fire safety clearance from the Fire Service department. They will not be able to build any building over six storeys without having the plans inspected by someone from this department,” said Major Shakil.

However, this still excludes majority of the city.

This is what people in the 22-storey FR Tower – which was constructed before the 2006 cut-off mark – were quick to find out.

There was not a single fire-protected staircase in the entire building.

“The building had only one staircase,” said Kazi Saad Nur, whose wife Zarin Tasnim works on the 12th floor of the building.

“She called me and told me she cannot come down, so she went up to the 15th floor. But after that her phone was found switched off and I was unable to reach her,” he said. Zarin was later reported to have suffocated to death.

The staircase, which was already overcome with smoke, was, however, not the only one in the building.

There was another – a barely one-foot wide staircase snaking out of the back of the building. This staircase had become a doubly precarious undertaking during the fire.

The risks were such that the Fire Department actually sent two letters in 2017 and 2018 to the building authorities which highlighted the lack of fire safety measures in the building.

“The staircase was filled with smoke and my brother, who was stuck on the 9th floor, was unable to use it to escape. He and his colleagues used a hacksaw to cut open the iron grilles on the toilet window and jumped to the next building,” said Nalifa Mehelin, another relative of a victim who was trapped in the fire.

The lack of safety measures in buildings has become alarmingly common.

THE CITY THAT BURNS

On March 2, 2019, just ten days after an inferno took over Churihatta in Chawkbazaar, a fire broke out again in the area. This time it was a scrap metal shop where a gas cylinder had exploded, turning the shop white-hot, and leaving three staffers with as much as 30 per cent burns.

On the very same day a fire broke out in a slum in Tejgaon Industrial area, gutting 50 homes. This newspaper reported that the fire stemmed from a pile of rubble left behind by government workers, following an eviction drive.
Three days later, a fire broke out in a tyre warehouse in Old Dhaka’s Nawabpur area. Media reported that it took firefighters two hours to bring the flames under control.

Before the fumes from that had died down, there was a fire in a slum in Nakhalpara – one big enough for the fire service to need eight units to bring it under control. Following this, there was another fire in another scrap goods warehouse in Lalbagh.

All of this was a month’s work.

But more importantly, these were only the ones that were reported – in fact a Star Weekend analysis showed that only one per cent of fire incidents are ever reported in the media.

Calculating from the statistics of the last three years published by the Fire Service Department, there are on average 43 fire incidents every single day that need to be tackled by firefighters.

Additionally, an article published in 2004 by the Institute of Engineers, Bangladesh, titled “Fire Hazard Categorization and Risk Assessment for Dhaka City in GIS Framework”, found that the Tejgaon Industrial Area, Fulbaria and Postogola were the most hazardous areas in the city to live in, having more than 30 fire incidents annually. The next-worst areas were found to be Jatrabari, Sadarghat, Shakhari bazar, Waizghat, Simpson Road, New Market and Mirpur-1.

Risk zones are many. In 2001, a Bangladesh University of Engineering and Technology (BUET) graduate student studying the area of Mohammadpur found that shopping centres and filling stations have more frequent fire incidents.

On top of the pile of tinder – which are high-rises without basic safety measures – there are 867 chemical warehouses spread throughout the city which too are operating without fire safety clearances, according to statistics provided by the department.
In 2012, students from BUET’s department of Urban & Regional Planning (URP) assessed 153 chemical warehouses on Armanitola road for fire risk.

All the chemical warehouses studied showed that the amount of chemicals stored exceeded the amount allowed by BNBC. In most of the warehouses the amount stored was between 2,500kg and 5,500kg, with the highest going to 10,000 kilograms.

Worse yet, they found that of the warehouses, 17 percent had chemicals that would ignite almost immediately – similar to what had been observed in Chawkbazaar.

“None of the buildings built before 2006 have the things necessary for fire protection, because the Bangladesh National Building Code (BNBC) was yet to come into effect,”

Only a quarter of the warehouses were storing non-flammable materials.

This fire risk did not seem to cause a dent in the psyche of the businessmen there – very few of the warehouses had fire extinguishers and none of them had fire alarms or any fire-protected staircases. A quarter had staircases which also served as storage units. Shockingly, half of the warehouses had homes and hospitals in the same building.

“The people who are in the business of importing and storing chemicals do not have knowledge of the chemical properties of those substances at all. Most chemical shop and storage owners do not even accept that they are dealing with chemicals,” said Nushrat Jahan, one of the authors of the paper titled “Fire Hazard Risk Assessment of Mixed Use Chemical Storage Facilities: A Case Study of Chemical Warehouses in Old Dhaka”, which was published in Journal of Bangladesh Institute of Planners.

The author, currently a Planning PhD student at the University of Toronto, also added that all of this boils down to creating awareness.

There is a treasure trove of risk assessments conducted by urban planners over the years all nailing down the same conclusion — the city needs to be protected.

A thesis published in 2008 by the Department of Urban Planning (URP) at BUET narrowed in on what was then ward 72 (now ward 36) comprising Islampur, Shakhari bazar, Simpson Road and Court House Street, and found that most of the buildings there were moderately vulnerable to fire.

Similarly in 2015, a report published in the International Journal of Disaster Risk Reduction by graduate students of University of Texas and BUET, studied the buildings in ward number 29, which is the area around Islambagh.

They found that less than half of the buildings there could be accessed by fire engines and that nearly 59 percent of the buildings were vulnerable to fire.

So why can not the fire service simply go and evacuate the places without any fire safety clearances?

“We do not have the powers of a magistrate. We can only intervene after a disaster has already occurred,” said Maj Shakil.

Besides, he added, that it was not as if they could empty out the city considering the widespread nature of the problem.
“Did you know that 71 percent of the streets in Dhaka are too narrow for fire engines to pass through?”

According to the current law, the roads need to be at least nine metres wide for fire engines to pass through. There needs to be at least a 4.5 metre wide space in front of the building for the fire units to set themselves up.

“These laws completely fall flat in entire areas like Old Dhaka, Mirpur, Mohammadpur, Rampura and Khilgaon, among others,” he said.

This story by Zyma Islam was originally published by the Daily Star on March 29.

BEHIND THE STORY
Published on March 29, journalist Zyma Islam exposed the inadequate fire safety of buildings in Bangladesh hot on the heels of a massive fire on March 28 in Dhaka, the nation’s capital. Dubbed as the Banani FR Tower fire, the flames left 26 people dead and around 100 injured. In response to criticism, Housing and Public Works Minister SM Rezaul Karim declared on March 30 that all buildings constructed violating rules would be identified within 15 days. “If necessary, the identified buildings will be sealed off, demolished, or all activities will be suspended there until safety is ensured,” he told reporters after visiting a Gulshan kitchen market where a fire broke out in the morning.

Politician caught negotiating with Russia in trap

Heinz-Christian Strache, the leader of Austria’s right-wing populist FPÖ party, met with purported Russian multimillionaire in Ibiza on July 24, 2017. She offered him campaign support in exchange for public contracts.

What he didn’t know was that the entire exchange was staged and recorded by hidden cameras.

The video was created three months before Austria’s general election that October. Following the election, Heinz-Christian Strache would rise to become the country’s vice-chancellor.

The video shows Strache and fellow party member Johann Gudenus, deputy mayor of Vienna at the time, meeting with a woman in a luxurious holiday villa on the Spanish island of Ibiza. She was introduced to them as Alyona Makarova, the purported niece of

Igor Makarov, a Russian oligarch close to President Vladimir Putin. The elegant woman could conduct business practically anywhere she wanted with her ‘Latvian’ passport.

The supposed investor who offered to invest a hundred million euros into their partnership already had a plan.

She proposed acquiring a 50 per cent stake in a highly influential Austrian tabloid, the Kronen Zeitung, to use the newspaper as a mouthpiece backing Strache and his party in the election campaign.

Strache, dressed casually in a T-shirt and jeans, seemed enthusiastic – mostly about the proposal, but also about the woman herself. “Are you kidding? She’s hot,” he said, with a Viennese lilt.

Strache spoke for more than six hours with the woman, alternately whispering and roaring, lecturing and gesticulating.

“As long as I’m not dead,” Strache said at one point, “I’ll be in charge for the next 20 years.”

Ultimately, a deal took shape in that room in the Ibiza villa on that July day in 2017: Russian money of uncertain origin would help boost the FPÖ’s election results. And it goes without saying that the woman purporting to be Alyona Makarova would also get something out of it.

The Russian woman’s apparent confidant said her money wasn’t “actually entirely legal” and described the deal as “legally tricky.”

That night, switching between Russian and English, she repeatedly asked what she would get in return after the election if, as planned, Strache were to become part of the government. The woman had a confidant at her side in the villa, a middle-aged man in white trousers and a blue shirt, who did most of the talking when it came to the sensitive negotiations. He demanded, in German, that they be granted the kind of blatant financial advantages that only a government can provide.

But Heinz-Christian Strache, who is fond of presenting himself as the man cleaning up Austrian politics, didn’t stand up and leave as one might have expected him to do in such a situation.

Instead, while he repeatedly emphasized during the conversation that he was only available for legal deals, he would quickly turn around and agree to proposals that, if implemented, would clearly be illegal.

The matters discussed included the question of whether the FPÖ, if it became part of a coalition government, would be in a position to award artificially inflated government contracts to the purported Russian.

They also talked about the possibility of the Russian woman making a donation to the FPÖ party that could be concealed by way of an association.

The Russian woman’s apparent confidant said her money wasn’t “actually entirely legal” and described the deal as “legally tricky.” And yet that still didn’t prompt Strache and Gudenus to leave. The confidant said the Russian woman’s dealings were in “an illegal space.” Strache and Gudenus remained seated.

The full length of the meeting is documented in the video, sober viewing that raises deep moral questions.

More than six hours that covered not only backroom deals, but also the overarching goal of creating a tamed Austrian media landscape similar to the Hungarian model.

Did Strache or Gudenus report to the authorities the next day that someone had attempted to bribe them? Or that illicit money was to be smuggled into Austria?

Requests for responses to those questions sent by Süddeutsche Zeitung and news weekly Der Spiegel were left unanswered.

“As long as I’m not dead,” Strache said at one point, “I’ll be in charge for the next 20 years.”

In a message to Süddeutsche Zeitung and Der Spiegel, Strache and Gudenus did not deny having been in that villa, but stress that it was a “strictly private meeting”.

Ibiza, an oligarch’s niece, millions and millions of euros and a major newspaper?

Even by the standards of Austrian politics – which has a penchant for absurdist drama – it is a rather audacious scenario. Too audacious to be real, in fact. Strache and Gudenus, it turns out, had been lured into a trap. Apparently, someone wanted to test how they would react to such a tempting offer.

The purported Russian wasn’t the niece of oligarch Makarov, who actually is a real person. Nor is it likely that she had hundreds of millions of euros at her disposal. She was simply acting as a decoy.

Neither Der Spiegel nor the Süddeutsche Zeitung have any reliable information about the motives of the people who set Strache this trap in 2017 or who they may have been working for.

But one thing is clear following the evaluation of the material and verification of its authenticity by two experts: It is in the public interest to know how Strache and Gudenus, high-ranking representatives of the Austrian government and of their party, responded to dubious advances from a purported oligarch.

This story by Leila Al-Serori, Oliver Das Gupta, Peter Münch, Frederik Obermaier and Bastian Obermayer was originally published online by Süddeutsche Zeitung on 17 May 2019 .

BEHIND THE STORY
The meeting in Ibiza appears to have served the sole purpose of deceiving Strache and Gudenus in a professionally staged and technically elaborate spectacle. Hidden cameras and microphones were installed in the villa in light switches and in a mobile phone charging station. The microphones recorded almost every word spoken. The Süddeutsche Zeitung and Der Spiegel both obtained parts of the video and audio recordings and analysed them together. However, the newspaper paid no money for the material, and neither did Der Spiegel, according to the magazine. To verify the veracity of the video, Süddeutsche Zeitung obtained photos of an invoice showing the villa was booked from July 22-25, 2017. An expert hired by the Süddeutsche Zeitung confirmed that the photos advertising the villa on the booking website show the same rooms that can be seen in the hours of video footage.
Hidden cameras and microphones began recording their conversations there.

A girl’s journey from slavery to activism

For 25-year-old Pachayammal, freedom tastes like biryani. That’s the dish she first ate after being rescued from six years of bonded labour in Tamil Nadu. “We were finally able to eat a meal in peace,” she said.

Now a feisty activist, Pachayammal, along with her husband Arul, has rescued over 100 people from slavery, advocated for homes and work for them, and has rehabilitated them.

Pachayammal’s story is one of ten first-time women voters featured as a part of The Quint’s “Me, the Change” campaign. The campaign, presented by Facebook, sought to put focus on a demographic usually ignored by mainstream media — the first-time woman voter. Launched in October 2018, the campaign highlighted the issues and aspirations of the first-time woman voter in the run-up to the 2019 Lok Sabha elections.

Pachayammal married Arul when she was barely sixteen years old. She married willingly, for love. But little did she know that she married into slavery. The days would be hard and long, breaking and carrying rock from 4.30 am to 9.00 pm. There would be only one meal a day, of watery rice gruel.

Speaking of her ordeal, Pachayammal says, “My husband’s parents had a debt, which he had to repay. The ‘owner’ decided to get me married to him so that we form a ‘pair’(easy to manage, won’t run off, lower pay). We didn’t know this. I too really liked my husband, so I married him.” They faced physical, verbal and sexual abuse daily. Paid 200 rupees(US$2.79) a week, Pachayammal slaved for the quarry owner with more than 25 bonded labourers for six years.

“At 4 am every day, the owner would call us to break rock. Some days, the men would have to work till midnight”, Pachayammal says.

Until, she was rescued.

According to The Quint, over 1 million people were bonded labourers in Tamil Nadu, India in 2018. After Pachayammal was rescued at the age of 23, she turned to activism. She draws from an unending well of self-confidence, to seek out from the government basic rights (homes, electricity, work) for rescued bonded labourers.

And she rescues those still under the throes of slavery. She stakes out quarries, brick kilns, carpentry units for months on end. She goes in to work in those units, to get close to the bonded labourers to ascertain the truth, ropes in government officials and organises a raid.
Pachayammal is now part of the SRLM (State Rural Livelihoods Mission) and gets a steady monthly income. Occasionally, she does daily wage work. Her husband, Arul, earns a living by driving an auto-rickshaw he received from a corporation as part of their CSR. Both of them are doing very well today.

This story by Vikram Venkateswaran was originally published by the Quint on Nov 30, 2018.

BEHIND THE STORY
To find Pachayamal’s story, a team of three reporters at The Quint reached out to International Justice Mission, a global NGO, from where many case studies were sourced before zeroing in on her. Before The Quint’s video, Pachayammal, was a true inspiration, but her story wasn;t covered in mainstream media. The sight of a camera, or a journalist pushed her and the entire colony into what can only be described as the ‘camera effect’. All the responses were rehearsed and interactions were formal. Pachayammal, and the rest of the colony were expecting to be fed the words, which they would then rattle off. This had been their experience of journalists and the media and what had always happened. To tackle this, The Quint’s reporter Vikram Venkateswaran made several trips to Pachayammal’s village with a cameraperson; but without any equipment. The team got to know them, and spent time with Pachayammal, her husband and the children of the colony. It was only on the fourth visit that the reporter took a camera along. On the sixth visit to Ullavur village, which is a three-hour drive from Chennai, the camera was finally rolled. Over a kerosene stove, as Pachayammal prepared a ‘sambar’ (a local dish) for her husband and herself, the reporter started a conversation with her about food — what she liked to eat, and what she got to eat while a slave. And so, began a genuine retelling of Pachayammal’s inspirational story, which the team managed to capture on camera, minus the inhibition.

The voice from the jungle

As he usually does in the morning, Madu greets his listeners. Madu runs his broadcast from a community radio station, Benor FM Radio, located in a remote area in Bukit Suban Village.

The village is located in the Air Hitam District of Sarulangun Regency in theJambi Province.

Benor Radio was initiated by an NGO called the Indonesian Conservation Community Warsi.

Benor Radio, that started its broadcast since 2013, priorities its radio program forthe Anak Dalam, who are also known as the Orang Rimba ethnic group.

The group is scattered amongst the Bukit Dua Belas National Park area.

The Orang Rimba is a native Jambi community who live nomaidcally in the forest as a group.

Madu is a native broadcaster from the Orang Rimba ethnic group. Beside Madu, there are five other native jungle people who are active as broadcasters.

For the children of the Suku Anak Dalam, it is not easy to learn to be an announcer. However, their willing attitudes have now made them broadcasters whose voices are eagerly awaited by The Orang Rimba in the forest and local residents.

“Well, the first difficulty was learning to operate a laptop. When I first broadcasted, I spoke stiffly, but after two weeks it went smoothly,” said Madu.

By broadcasting the radio show to cover an area of 30 kilometres, Benor Radio program can be listened to by 80 percent of the entire 2,546 jungle people in the national park area.

In addition to fighting inequality and enabling equal access to media and information, Benor Radio was established to deliver information to people who live in the forest and who are difficult to reach physically.

“To get information, Orang Rimba access is very limited. By the radio, it can provide information to the jungle people and the radio can be a learning medium for them,” said Jauharul Maknun, responsible person for Benor FM Radio.

“Benor is also expected to become a media platform that bridges the gap between the jungle people and the surrounding community, reducing the negative stigma of outside communities towards the jungle people. we can provide understanding to the outside community about the jungle people,” He added.

For The Orang Rimba, radio is the only medium they are able to get information from.

The Orang Rimba live in simple wooden shelters. They live nomadically in the forest depends on the availability of food. Source: ANTARA Indonesia News Agency

“I got the information about earthquakes, floods, and also elections (through the radio). So we got the information about who wins and loses in the election,” said Perabung, as member of Suku Anak Dalam.

Moreover, Benor Radio provides information about the arrival of health workers to the national park area.

This is important to the Orang Rimba whos secluded and nomadic livs in the forest often rob them of health facilities.

This story by Perwiranta, Syahrudin, Amir Musa and Sandy Arizona was originally published on ANTARA Indonesia News Agency in May 2019.

BEHIND THE STORY
Suara Dari Rimba is a documentary video made by the ANTARA TV team in May 2019. The documentary video is about the lives of the Anak Dalam tribe, or who are also known as the Orang Rimba, whose live nomadically inside the forest area. The current presence of Radio Benor is their only source of information. The Anak Dalam tribe community has been limited to receiving information and in voicing their anxiety. Their forest home is still being destroyed. The Orang Rimba have been pushed from their homes in Bukit Duabelas National Park because of deforestation. The team took a six hour road trip to where they stayed. It was challenging for the team due to the rocky and unpredictable roads. There was also a lack of facilities as the park was situated in a very remote area. The place and the people were isolated from any mode of transportation and cut off from any communication with the outside world. Thus, those who lived there spoke in a different dialect as they only used their native language. We therefore required a translator. They used firewood to cook simple food from the jungle, such as cassava, and drank water from streams. Living in such a closed and secluded area, they were quite protective and wary when our team arrived for the documentary video.

Trafficked into nightmares

Local agents have been smuggling victims across Benapole’s border by showing forged documents of family relations at immigration checkpoints. Sometimes the gang members marry the victims only to sell them into prostitution later.

The Daily Star learned about this after talking to six victims and law enforcers in bordering areas recently.

In most cases, the victims from different parts of the country are gathered at small huts built by the traffickers near Benapole border. At that point, they are treated nicely and given the impression that they would actually go to India for a better future.

When it is time, their counterparts in India would notify their accomplices, and the victims are taken to the other side of the border.

For commuting, the traffickers always use motorbikes just as locals in border areas do, and carry sweetmeat, fish or gift packets to avoid drawing suspicion.

TRAFFICKING ROUTES

According to victims and local law enforcers, the traffickers use Putkhali, Sadipur, Boroachra, and Gathipara points of Jashore to traffic the victims into India without passports.

The victims are first taken to Jashore and then to the border points by motorbike before they are kept in the small huts.

Rights activists said the gang sells a woman or girl to Indian brothels for Tk 2.5 to 3 million.

Take the case of victim Bonya (not her real name).

The 17-year-old girl used to live with her parents in the capital’s Mirpur and was looking for a job after completing higher secondary education. She left home after a woman, her neighbour, promised her a better job in India.

On Jan 28, 2017, she went to Jashore by bus with the woman’s boyfriend. From Jashore town, they went to Benapole by motorbike.

“For the next five days, the man kept me in a small hut with a TV, almirah (a cupboard) and small bed,” Bonya said, talking to The Daily Star in Jashore town after her rescue.

“The man asked me to stay inside the hut and went away. I was not allowed to go outside for security reason, and a woman gave me food timely.”

Bonya come back home in March last year with the support of Rights Jessore, a human rights organisation.

“On Feb 5, the man came back early in the morning and took me near Putkhali where a boat was waiting for me,” she said.

“After crossing the river, I found a man with a motorbike. He drove me into a dense forest. One hour later, I saw a locality.”

In the area, Bonya was kept in a house and forced to sleep with some men, she said. “After a few days, I was being taken to a brothel area. On the way, I ran from them and went to the local police.”

Police then sent Bonya to a shelter home in West Bengal, and she finally made contact with Rights Jessore from there.

This reporter recently visited Putkhali in Benapole, and met a person called Sagar with the help of a local man while posing as a client.

During the conversation about how to cross the border without a passport, Sagar said he could make the arrangement, but it would cost Tk 5,000 (US$59.13) because “border security has been heightened recently.”

When asked if there were two persons including a woman, Sagar grinned and said he could arrange that too, but the cost would go up to Tk 16,000. “We charge extra for women because it is risky, and it takes time.”

After the correspondent agreed, Sagar said, “You need to stay near the border for one day or two. We will first clear the border for you and then help you cross it.”

Sagar demanded an additional Tk 300 for every overnight stay and Tk 200 for food at the hut. He also advised the correspondent to carry some additional cash to buy sweetmeat or fruit on the way.

CONTROLLING BORDER POINTS

Locals and law enforcers said each of the border points is run by local ruling party men. They pay hefty amounts to law enforcers to run the trafficking activities smoothly.

Executive Director of Rights Jessore Binoy Krishna Mallick said, “We have learnt from rescued victims and our local network that some people are leading the nexus at border points using political identity.”

At present, one Ghana Biswas oversees the Putkhali point, Ashok Sen the Boroachra point, and Jahidul Islam the Sadipur point of Benapole, The Daily Star learned after talking to some accomplices of the gangs and sources of law enforcement agencies.

All of them are supporters of the Awami League and have been involved in human trafficking for years, but were never arrested, the sources said. Locally, they are known as farmers despite owning luxurious multi-storey homes in nearby Sharshaupazila, they added.

“In the same way, the traffickers get passports for underage girls. They identify them as children or siblings while making fake passports and documents,”

The Daily Star tried to communicate with them but their phones were switched off.

Rights activists said the gang sells a woman or girl to Indian brothels for Tk 2.5 to 3 million.

Asked about the alleged complicity of the ruling party men, Awami League’s Benapole unit President Enamul Hoque Mukul said some may get involved, but they are doing it in secret.

“We take strict action against whoever is found guilty.”

He said the law enforcers have tightened security, and the situation is improving now.

Asked about AL men’s involvement, lieutenant-colonel Selim Reza, commander of Border Guard Bangladesh-49 (BGB), refused to give a direct reply.

He, however, said they take action against those found involved in the crime. “The situation has got better now, and the number of trafficking incidents has come down to almost zero for our increased vigilance and action.”

Salauddin Sikder, additional police superintendent of Jessore, said trafficking through the border declined in recent years although there were still some reports of trafficking.

He said he had no specific information about law enforcers’ involvement in the crime but warned of action if any member of the force was found guilty.

NEW TECHNIQUES

In recent times, the traffickers have changed techniques. Now they get their prey across the border using the “legal” channel.

“For a woman, the traffickers make fake documents like a marriage certificate and a passport. Then they cross the border like a couple going on a trip to India,” Masud Karim, officer-in-charge of Benapole Police Station, told The Daily Star.

“In the same way, the traffickers get passports for underage girls. They identify them as children or siblings while making fake passports and documents,” said the OC, who claimed to have got the information after interrogating victims.

Now few victims cross the border illegally, he said. “Some are still doing it without passports, but most of them have relatives in India, or they are sick and poor.”

“We charge extra for women because it is risky, and it takes time.”

Asked about raiding the border huts, the OC said they often conduct drives and take action against the criminals. Sometimes, they also rescue victims from the huts.

FAKE RELATIONS

There are some cases in which traffickers marry a girl before selling her to a brothel in India.

On January 18 last year, a Jashore court sentenced one Shohag Hossain of Narail for life and fined him Tk 50,000 for selling his wife to a brothel in Mumbai.

Shohag married the girl of Jashore Sadarupazila on July 7, 2007. Later, he told his in-laws that he would take his wife to India for a better job. The girl’s family refused but he kept insisting, the victim’s family told The Daily Star in May last year.

Finally, Shohag went to India with his wife on April 15, 2009, without letting anyone know. When her family found him missing, they filed a complaint with police and went to Rights Jessore. A few days later, Shohag came back home alone, and said his wife went missing in India.

Rights Jessore rescued the girl from a Mumbai brothel on May 7, 2010, using its network.

This story by Mohammad Jamil Khan was originally published by The Daily Star on Jul 22.

BEHIND THE STORY
The reporter had to act as a local to get in touch with gang members who ran the trafficking trade, in order to acquire information pertaining to the story. Social workers and law enforcement sources, who worked with the trafficked victims, helped clue him in on the gang members tasks and whereabouts. However, he did not get much data or support from the local law enforcers. While working in the field, he convinced locals to help him cross Benapole’s borders without a passport by paying them sums of money. The NGOs who used to work to rescue traffic victims also assisted him in getting some ideas and provided him a database of contacts. As local political leaders were benefiting from the trafficking trade, the reporter was forced to hide his identity while staying in the bordering village. The social workers, who helped him throughout his investigation, alerted him to a possible threat from a political muscleman. After the story published, the reporter received dozens of phone calls congratulating him on the findings. To his knowledge, although illegal human trafficking is still underway through bordering points, the number of trafficking cases has reduced significantly.

Finding ways to beat farm debt

The farm sector has been a driving engine behind Thailand’s economic growth, but at the same time, debt among farmers has been rising.

The main product of farming is rice.

Last year, the value of rice traded was 174.5 billion baht (US$5.7 billion), entailing 12.89% of all farming products.

Logically, rice farmers should be enjoying wealthy profits.

But the uncertainties of farming – unmerciful weather, droughts and floods, fluctuating prices and rising costs – enslave rice farmers to debts.

“Thai farmers are getting into more and more debt because they can draw on all kinds of financial sources. All governments have a raft of policies to help farmers get finance at low interest rates. But farming is a high risk career with variable returns,”

The government has offered help, but to no avail.

Farming debt, often incurred by rice farmers, rose from 2.4 trillion baht in 2016 to 2.8 trillion baht as of last year, according to the National Statistical Office (NOS).

Among 3.8 million debtors with state-funded loans, 1.1 million of them are farmers, according to the NOS.

In August 2017, hundreds of rice farmers gathering in front of commercial banks and the Bank for Agriculture and Agricultural Cooperatives (BAAC) demanded help.

The government granted them debt relief, with interest cuts.

However the larger question still remains: how can Thailand tackle farmers debt so it disappears for good?

CAUSE OF DEBT

Samree Treesawat, a 54 year-old farmer from Ayutthaya province, was among the farmers who joined the protest at the BAAC.

“I can see no future. The price of rice has gone down every year since the coup. I make no profit from rice plantations. I have been a farmer since I was young. I can’t change to a new job,” Mr Samree told the Bangkok Post.

10 years ago, Seree borrowed one million baht from the BAAC to develop his home and launch a grocery business as a second job apart from growing rice.

During the early years, he was able to make debt repayments, but stopped them over the past four years.

Total interest payments have reached 300,000 baht.

A farmer in Bangkok’s Nong Chok district drives a harvester to collect his crop. Variables such as unmerciful weather, fluctuating prices and rising costs enslave rice farmers to their debts. Source: Patipat Janthong

Mr Samree said he does not own his own land, so the costs are higher, and production costs in general have increased. Like many other rice farmers, Mr Samree rents land to plant rice.

Although, the harvest gave him plenty of rice to sell, he was still unable to make enough money to repay his debt.

First, Mr Samree needed to earmark 150 kilograms of paddy rice per rai (1,600 square metres) to repay his landlord.

His landlord prefers rice to cash. Landlords make easy money selling rice when the price in the world market jumps.

If not, they can still make money from a government subsidy under the rice mortgage scheme.

If droughts hit or the weather is otherwise cruel, Mr Samree could end up owing rent.

Even if he had not harvested enough rice to pay rent to his landlord, he still needed to pay for production costs such as oil for tractors, chemical pesticides, chemical fertilisers and seeds.

TOO MUCH HELP

Based on a study by the Thailand Development Research Institute (TDRI) in 2016, almost a quarter of all farm debts are owed to state banks.

Kamphol Pantakua, a researcher from the TDRI, said farmers have borrowed money from banks for further investment, which can return benefits of up to 77%.

That makes good sense economically, except farmers do not borrow for farming only.

Around 34% of them borrow for developing or buying a house or residential plot, 15% for education, 14% for improving the farming business, 14% for doing business, 10% on general consumption and 13% for other purposes.

The problem is therefore not about lacking loans or financial help.

“Thai farmers are getting into more and more debt because they can draw on all kinds of financial sources. All governments have a raft of policies to help farmers get finance at low interest rates. But farming is a high risk career with variable returns,” said Kamphol.

He explained that rice is a commodity that is easy to sell, but not much of a money-maker.

The price of rice fluctuates greatly based on the world market, not to mention fierce competition.

“Farmers could reap a 50% profit or suffer a loss just as big at any time,” he said.

The TDRI researcher also found that policies to help farmers are a problem in themselves.

To tackle the debt problem, many governments also implemented debt suspension schemes.

Governments also provided other non-financial sources of support, such as coupons for cheaper fuel and fertiliser.

They also offered special loans with long-term payments and low interest rates to farmers. Interest rates for farmers from state banks are the lowest in Asean – amounting to less than 2%.

Kamphol said that the government should reduce subsidies to the farming sector and cultivate self-sufficiency.

He said the government should play a new role as a “funding agency” to support farmers and raise capacity.

The government, he said, should pull in academics, local NGOS, and state officials to create a new strategy to solve farmer debt.

“But if the government still puts in large volumes of money to farmers with little efficiency, it will burden the country as money is drawn away from developing other fields,” he said.

MORE AND BETTER LOANS

The president of the BAAC, Apirom Sukprasert, said that non-performing loans at the BAAC are still at an “acceptable” level.

“Most farmers have skills in financial management. They can repay debt on time. But we still have some with problems, and we welcome them to discuss them with us,” Sukprasert said.

About 1.5 million people who are debtors of the bank have registered as poor under the government’s scheme to help those with little money and the value of their debt is about 300,000 baht per person on average.

“I can see no future. The price of rice has gone down every year since the coup. I make no profit from rice plantations. I have been a farmer since I was young. I can’t change to a new job,”

He said the bank has more flexible channels to help farmers improve their quality of life, compared with the past when loans were limited to agricultural purposes only.

“Now, our clients can get financial loans for education or real estate purchases, with different interest rates.”

However, the important thing, he added, is the bank will work with agencies to create “immunity” for those farmers.

Farmers are shown how to cultivate financial discipline and increase personal savings.

The bank has also offered measures to attract more savings from farmers.

Most popular among clients are lucky draw competitions, with winners drawn from those with deposit accounts.

Sukprasert said the BAAC is approving soft loans to 452 cooperative farmers nationwide, which will be allocated to support farmers to help cut production costs and increase income.

This is done under the government’s agricultural reform policy.

The private sector, for its part, will help farmers distribute their products to customers.

“We can no longer be focused on debt suspension or loans alone. We must focus on making farmers more disciplined and more financially independent, as that is the way to become debt free.”

This story by Penchan Charoensuthipan was first published by The Bangkok Post on October 28, 2018.

BEHIND THE STORY

In August 2017, hundreds of rice farmers converged in front of commercial banks and the BAAC to demand for help after they were unable to pay off farming loans. The significant gathering of these farmers prompted The Bangkok Post to turn its attention to farmer debt in Thailand. It also raised the question of how Thailand could better tackle it. Anucha Charoenpo, the news editor at the Bangkok Post, later discussed the idea with the writer and encouraged her to investigate a number of farmers in debt with state-funded loans, the cause of their debt and what loan assistance packages each farmer received. The story has encouraged all stakeholders involved – especially the Thai government – to pay more attention to the problems of farmer debt while rice farmers who were themselves in debt were alerted to the changes they needed to make. This included practising increasing discipline and making themselves more financially independent.

Singapore government clamps down on medical tourism in public hospitals

When his father needed treatment for a prostate problem in 2008, property developer Yudi Rahmat Raharja got a recommendation for an agent who could arrange for it to be done at a public hospital in Singapore.

The Jakarta-based agent organised everything, from an ambulance pick-up at Changi Airport to doctors’ appointments.

“I don’t remember being charged any agent’s fee, and generally had no issue with how much we were charged by the hospital,” Mr Yudi, 50, said.

“We understood the agent’s work was reflected in the total bill.”

Instead of Mr Yudi being charged for it, the agent’s commission was paid by the hospital.

This practice of paying foreign agents to refer patients had been going on for years in some public healthcare institutions, with agents earning potentially thousands in referral fees. But the institutions have now been told to terminate such contracts.

The Health Ministry (MOH) issued the order after the practice in hospitals including National University, Singapore General and Changi General was highlighted by The Sunday Times in September.

MOH told The Sunday Times the priority of public healthcare institutions was to serve Singaporeans’ healthcare needs.

While foreign agents were not tasked to market the hospitals’ services and served mainly to facilitate visits by foreign patients, the ministry said it wanted hospitals to cease such contracts, “to avoid potential misinterpretation and misrepresentation.”

Foreign patients did not get subsidies and could be charged a premium for procedures performed by senior doctors, so agents’ fees, as a percentage of the total bill, could be very lucrative. In one case, an Indonesian agent contracted to provide NUH “administrative services” was paid eight per cent of the hospital bill, excluding doctors’ fees, for every foreign patient accepted by NUH.

The agent would get an additional percentage if the patient bill exceeded S$500,000, and even more if it exceeded $1 million.

Among the agent’s duties was to provide information and help arrange appointments with specialists.

Jakarta-based hospital agent HCM Medika said it had helped to facilitate medical visits for 15,000 patients to Singapore and Malaysia, since it was established in 2007.

HCM Medika would recommend the hospitals and specialists, and send patients profiles of the doctors recommended.

Potential clients would be asked for their medical records.

“For Singapore public hospitals, an appointment could take one to two weeks. For private hospitals, patients can get a confirmation and meet a doctor as quickly as the next day,” Ms Lena, a relationship officer with HCM Medika, told The Sunday Times.

“No additional fees. We have agreements with the hospitals we send clients to,” she added. “We don’t charge patients. We are getting fees from the hospitals.”

She declined to disclose how much hospitals paid her company.

Other agents in Indonesia and Vietnam told The Sunday Times they too had arrangements with SGH and CGH.

Among other hospitals, Tan Tock Seng said it did not engage such agents, while other public hospitals did not reply to queries.

SingHealth, which runs SGH and CGH, and NUH told The Sunday Times they would cease the agreements by the end of October.

“NUH’s foremost priority is to provide care for Singaporeans,” an NUH spokesman added. “NUH reviews all referrals to ensure that it has the capacity, capability and resources to provide treatment that will be beneficial to the patient. Singaporeans are given priority, for appointments and hospital beds.”

SingHealth said the primary role of agents, which it termed “medical associates”, is to help overseas patients navigate the healthcare system, including advising them on the relevant health records needed, and assisting with administrative processes, paperwork and travel arrangements.

“Medical associates are non-exclusive to SingHealth and they charge an administrative fee (per patient) for their services,” said SingHealth.

Doctors interviewed by The Sunday Times expressed their concern about such fees.

“This practice of giving a ‘referral fee’ to ‘medical agents’ is unethical,” said Dr Keith Goh, consultant neurosurgeon of International Neuro Associates, bluntly. The 8 per cent commission on a hospital bill of S$500,000 would be S$40,000 – “which is more than the annual salary of a staff nurse,” he noted.

Some doctors pointed out that under the Singapore Medical Council’s (SMC) ethical code and guidelines, they are not allowed to offer a percentage of a bill as a referral fee to third parties.

Dr Tan Chi Chiu, chairman of SMC’s Medical Ethics Committee, said there is nothing wrong with public doctors treating foreigners. But foreign patients may pay more, and “doctors need to ensure that this does not set up a financial incentive” to favour such patients over subsidised ones, he said.

The concern about foreigners crowding out Singaporeans in restructured hospitals has surfaced before and was raised in Parliament in 2010.

After The Sunday Times published its report, comments flooded social media, with many people demanding to know how many overseas patients were being treated at public hospitals, and if they had contributed to the long waiting time for appointments.

As a result, two MPs raised the issue in Parliament in November.

Responding, Senior Minister of State for Health Lam Pin Min said public hospitals attended to 10,900 foreign patients in 2017. Those whose referrals were supported by contracted service providers made up about 0.4 per cent of attendances in public health institutions.

He also said the proportion of foreigners admitted as inpatients or for day surgery at public institutions was about 1.5 per cent in 2017, lower than the 2.4 per cent admitted in 2008.

Following the MOH’s instruction to end contracts, public healthcare institutions also removed or blocked webpages containing information for overseas patients.

This story is a compilation of articles by Joyce Lim and Wahyudi Soeriaatmadja from Sept 30 to Nov 21 last year.

BEHIND THE STORY
Senior Correspondent Joyce Lim first got wind of the dealings between foreign agents and public health institutions when The Sunday Times uncovered one contract signed by NUH with an Indonesian agent to provide “administrative services”. She spent a month staking out at public hospitals and eventually managed to track down some foreign agents from Vietnam and Indonesia who confirmed they had arrangements with NUH and SGH. The hospitals declined to say how long such practices have been ongoing but the agents told The Sunday Times they had been bringing in patients to the hospitals since 2009. The investigation crossed borders, with Indonesia correspondent Wahyudi Soeriaatmadja convincing Jakarta-based hospital agent HCM Medika to open up about the trade. The exposé led to a public outcry over PHIs paying incentives tagged to the size of hospital bills when PHIs should be focused on treating sick patients in Singapore. Questions on such arrangements with foreign agents were also raised in Parliament which led to the Health Ministry disclosing the percentage of foreign patients over total number of patients treated at PHIs. But the statistics did not give an accurate picture of how many foreign patients were treated at PHIs over the years.

How Ramadan Diaries series opened minds, homes and hearts

There are almost a million unskilled and semi-skilled foreign workers in Singapore, and those from Bangladesh form a large percentage of the group. They build our homes, clean our streets and take up essential roles in our plants and factories.

Yet, other than occupying the same crowded MRT trains on Sundays or shopping in Little India, Singaporeans hardly cross paths with migrant workers who mostly live on worksites and dormitories away from residential estates.
The lack of interaction does little to help counter stereotypes of the community which tend to make the news only when laws have been broken.

But how much do we actually know about the lives and struggles of these foreign workers?

AN INSIGHT INTO MIGRANT WORKERS’ LIVES

When property developer Lendlease approached CNA Insider in April 2018 for a collaboration to highlight the lives of foreign workers during Ramadan – a time for family and reflection – the team saw an opportunity to challenge public perceptions that are often biased due to a lack of insight.

A group of four men aged between 26 and 33 was introduced to CNA Insider. They came from different parts of Bangladesh but shared a similar narrative – working in Singapore was their ticket out of a tough life back home.

At first shy and reticent, and self-conscious of their poor grasp of English, they were not the easiest subjects to work with. It took CNA Insider journalists several rounds of chat over home-cooked meals at their Mandai dormitory to get them to drop their guard and open up.

One of them clearly stood out.

Kadir Mohammad Abdul, 32. Source: Ray Yeh

Kadir Mohammad Abdul, 33, wore the taqiyah and kept a large beard. His appearance may intimidate strangers, but after getting to know him, the CNA Insider journalists were won over by his infectious smile and optimistic outlook in life.

They were also drawn to his story of perseverance. Starting out as a general worker who was berated daily by his supervisor, he climbed his way up the ladder to become a construction safety supervisor highly valued by his employer.

The first part of the Ramadan Diaries series offered a glimpse into the daily lives of Kadir and his colleagues during Ramadan – the hardships, sacrifices and the support that they received at work.
The accompanying video story received almost a million combined views on CNA Insider’s Facebook and YouTube pages, and prompted comments like this:

“Heartbreaking. Thank you CNA Insider for opening our eyes to the lives of unsung heroes who build the very homes that Singaporeans live in,” wrote Facebook user Grace Sun.

To maximise the series’ social impact, part 2 focused on what Singaporeans could do to reach out to migrant workers.

Kadir and friends sharing the iftar meal with Siti Zawiyah’s family. Source: Ruth Smalley

It featured a husband and wife pair, Fadzullah Hassan and Siti Zawiyah, who invited Kadir and friends – who had never been in a Housing & Development Board flat – to their home.

“We’ve been breaking fast at the mosque with them (foreign workers), and we’ve always wanted them at our house but we just don’t know how to approach them,” she said.

Being invited to dinner with the family was a “heart pain” experience for Kadir who, having spent six consecutive Ramadans away from his wife and three children, broke down crying.

Kadir getting emotional. He had spent six Ramadan away from his family.
Source: Ruth Smalley

He later said: “My family is just the same. We would break fast like this. I am very happy.”

REAL WORLD IMPACT

The Ramadan series on Kadir and his co-workers touched the hearts of many viewers and readers, as seen from comments they left on CNA Insider’s social media pages.

To keep up the momentum, CNA Insider posed a simple question on Facebook: Would you invite migrant workers to your home for dinner?

An avalanche of responses followed. More than 50 families – both Muslims and non-Muslims – contacted the team to express interest in hosting foreign workers at their homes.

With facilitation by CNA Insider, eight families opened up their homes to migrant workers over two weekends.

The experience turned out to be more than hosts or guests had imagined – and the start of friendships for some. One family prepared a special Bengali delicacy for their Bangladeshi migrant worker guests. Another, not content with just a home-cooked meal, gave their guests Hari Raya gifts and food to take back to their dormitory.

At the home of Mohammad Hamim and Fatimah Sawifi. Source: Fatimah Sawifi

“I come this house, I feel like it’s my house,” said migrant worker Shariful Islam who was hosted by Fatimah Sawifi, a teacher, and her husband Mohammad Hamim.

Fatimah said: “It was so very enlightening, we were wondering what held us back (from talking to them) in the past.”

Nicholas Yeo, who is not Muslim, got a Muslim friend to whip up a home-cooked spread.
“We were able to relate with one another over many common experiences, despite being so seemingly different,” he said, adding that he would consider inviting the migrant workers over on other festive occasions.

Marlene Chua, 28 (extreme right) and her sister with their guests on June 17, 2018. Source: Marlene Chua

Another host, Marlene Chua, said “it is like having friends over”. “Migrant workers make up a huge part of our society and life, and yet we know so little about them,” she added.

The difficulty, Hamim said, is: “I think Singaporeans are very open, but we don’t know how to go about reaching out.”

But some viewers pointed out on CNA Insider’s Facebook page that one could easily do what one can, such as Noraini Khodri-Siebley who wrote that during Ramadan, she cooked an extra portion every weekend “for the Bangladeshi boy who cleans my block. He’s just like my son. Maybe he’s not comfortable sitting with my family … at least he would take his iftar which we prepared.”

The stories resonated for a long time, with readers sending questions and compliments for many months after publication.

“The response to this series highlighted how good journalism has the power to challenge stereotypes and be a positive force,” said Yvonne Lim, Supervising Editor of CNA Insider.

This story by Ruth Smalley and Ray Yeh was originally published by CNA on Aug 22. To read more click here.

How Fear & Money Silenced A Murdered Journalist’s Family

In June 2015, journalist Jagendra Singh was set on fire by a minister’s henchmen in Shahjahanpur, Uttar Pradesh in India.

A week later, he died of his injuries.

The case never went to trial and none of the accused were punished.

Jagendra had been reporting on the corruption of several powerful ministers, including former minister Rammurti Singh Varma.

At the height of the protests following his death, Jagendra’s family met with then Chief Minister Akhilesh Yadav and received a monetary compensation of Rs 3 million (US$41,690) from the state government of Uttar Pradesh.

Their key demand, though – a CBI inquiry into his death – was not met by the state.

Barely six months later, the family mounted a sudden U-turn. Jagendra’s younger son, Rahul Singh, withdrew the petition that he had sent to the Supreme Court the night before it was heard, effectively ending any cases made on their behalf.

Senior journalist Mudit Mathur had impleaded himself in a Supreme Court PIL demanding a CBI probe into Jagendra’s death. Source: Sandhya Ravishankar

“He had been sending me messages that he was under immense pressure, that he was going into hiding, but I did not expect that he would suddenly withdraw at the last moment. The judge was predictably annoyed and we were left red-faced in court,” said Mudit Mathur, senior journalist with Tehelka, who impleaded himself in a similar petition before the court.

Mathur attempted to continue the second case in the Supreme Court in which he had impleaded himself. But with the family withdrawing the petition, that case too was dead, since Mathur had no locus standi.

For the first time, the facts of the case come tumbling out.

In Khutar, Rahul is pensive as he reminisces about that time.

The family, especially his mother, faced significant pressure from relatives, neighbours, friends and even some officials to move on from whatever had happened.

“They started to target mummy that whatever has happened has happened and to make a compromise. Mummy got scared that this is a small family and something might happen to her children. Due to pressure from mummy, we agreed to a compromise,” he said.

When they met Minister Rammurti Varma, the man claimed that he was framed.

Rahul said: “I told him in that case why don’t you let the enquiry take place? If you are innocent, then you will go free. But he said no, whatever has happened with your father has happened and I do not want your lives to be ruined. I will take responsibility for you. I will ensure that your sister is married well. As long as I am alive I will take good care of you.”

The minister then promised to be in their debt if the family forgave him.
When asked why Rammurti would still need to ask for forgiveness if he was innocent, Rahul laughed.

“Only he can answer this. I told him a number of times that at least the others who were involved should be caught – the ones who attacked my father, the ones who filed a false case against him. He said he would ensure a probe takes place and that he is innocent,” he said.

However, Rahul maintained that the minister was guilty “in one way or another” because the police would not have gone to his father’s house if a false case had not been made.

Before his death, Jagendra had a fake attempt to murder complaint registered against him. This would enable the police to arrest him and silence his reports on Rammurti’s corruption.

Ironically, a year after Jagendra’s death, the police acknowledged that the case filed against him was indeed false.

Instead of explaining why a false complaint had been lodged against Jagendra Singh, the minister asked the family to withdraw the First Information Report (FIR), that would have allowed the police to commence the investigation of the journalist’s death.

His brother and uncle signed some papers given to them by the minister and they left with Rs 3 million.

UNEASY CONSCIENCES

While the Singh family, on the surface, appears to have made their peace with the decision to make the compromise, all is not well.

Regret and unease is evident. Both brothers are married and the elder one is a father now.

The money from the state has been used to build a larger home and buy a small car.

“We were left with little choice. I was scared for the lives of both my grandsons. By then all our relatives and family members pushed us toward making a compromise and we were left with little choice. I want the killers of my son to get punishment.”

But the stain of guilt, of having betrayed a courageous father, is yet to be washed off.

“Sometimes I feel like we should have fought the whole fight to the end,” said Rahul Singh. “But at other times I feel whatever happened was a good thing. Because initially there were thousands of people standing with us, then slowly it became 500, then that became 150 and then 100. So in this fashion people left, they sold out, those who were with me too sold out. Those who were asking me to fight turned around and asked me to compromise with the Minister. Then finally the five to six people who were left standing beside me were putting pressure on me to compromise so I thought, what can one do when surrounded by traitors. Anything can happen to us. So when I think of that I feel what I did is right.”

Brother Rajan also feels pricked by his conscience. “Yes I do feel bad,” he said when asked about the compromise. “My Papa was a brave man and we let him down.”

Mother Suman Singh tells herself to be practical, for her children’s sake.
“The man of the house is no more, what can one do?” She asked. “I did not see any other option and I was very afraid for my children,” she said.

Sumer Singh, Jagendra’s father who passed away in January, told the collaboration in 2018 about the multiple threats issued to the family. “Even now I can’t sleep the entire night, with the fear, someone will come to take away or kill my family members. I told them, go sleep inside, let them kill me instead. They threatened us a lot, far too much. Even I was shaken,” he began to sob.

“They are kids, what all they had to undergo,” he said. “We were left with little choice. I was scared for the lives of both my grandsons. By then all our relatives and family members pushed us toward making a compromise and we were left with little choice. I want the killers of my son to get punishment. That is important,” he said.

Ajay Singh, Jagendra’s brother in law who organised the compromise with Minister Varma. Source: Sandhya Ravishankar

Jagendra’s sister’s husband Ajay Singh, who had fixed the meeting with the Minister, said that he was convinced there was no foul play in Jagendra’s death.

“The neighbours told us that the police never went inside his house,” Ajay said. “For whatever reasons or pressure, he (Jagendra) had set himself ablaze. From what information I got I felt there was no external hand in this, that it was a result of Jagendra’s anger.”

Ajay though admits that he organised a meeting with the Minister and was present at the “compromise” – although he repeatedly denied any money deal.
“No there was no talk of any money with the Minister,” he said. “But yes, I made a request to the Minister – these are very young children, you have to take care of them, you have to help them set their economic situation right and become stable,” he added.

Lovely Singh, Jagendra’s sister is convinced her brother was murdered. Source: Sandhya Ravishankar

His wife, Jagendra’s sister Lovely though is not as convinced as he is that the Minister is entirely innocent.

“The compromise was done under duress,” she said. “Now my brother is gone, we need our nephews and niece – what if they too get killed? That was my fear,” she said.

A FATHER’S DAUGHTER

“She is not like us,” said Suman, waving in the direction of 23-year-old Diksha Singh, who sat silently in the house, preoccupied with her thoughts. “She is like her father. She wants to fight. She wants justice for him.”

Diksha is shy but ask her a question about her father and the angst comes tumbling out in a flood.

Diksha Singh wants justice for her father Jagendra. Source: Sandhya Ravishankar

“I was not aware of the compromise,” said Diksha. “Nobody told me or asked me about it.”

Diksha is speaking of the first meeting in Bareilly when Rahul Singh, Rajan Singh and their uncle met with Minister Varma to chalk out the details of the compromise.

“When I heard about it, I was furious. I did not talk to anyone for a few weeks. I just cried,” she said.

The family consoled the young girl, 19 years old at the time, explaining to her that many relatives had even scared her mother saying that anything could happen to her only daughter when she went out alone.

“I don’t want it (the money),” Diksha said, “I wish that not a single penny of that amount should be used for my marriage.”

Fear festered and eventually pulled an unwilling Diksha into the tight distraught circle.

“I went to the meeting at the Shahjahanpur residence of the Minister,” said Diksha. “He kept telling me he did not do it but I did not believe him.”
At this second meeting, the entire family, except for Diksha, signed an affidavit stating that Jagendra Singh had indeed committed suicide.

Upon their return to Khutar, their uncle placed a bag near his sister in law Suman and turned to Rahul and Rajan.

“He said this is for your younger sister, for her wedding,” recollected Rahul. “He said we will conduct her wedding in a grand manner and any further help also the Minister will do.”

Rs 3 million in cash had arrived in Khutar.

Diksha is vehement in her distaste over the whole deal. “I don’t want it (the money),” she said. “I wish that not a single penny of that amount should be used for my marriage.”

Diksha still has nightmares. “I dream someone is following me, catching me and leading me to a fire. I also feel as if I am seeing ghosts and every time I only see they all are trying to cause me harm, trying to kill me. And every time it is Papa who comes to save me. Every time someone is trying to cause me harm in the dream, he is the one to save me and only says one thing – So what if there was nobody to save me, I will always be there to save Rachna,” she says as she blinks back tears.

Another recurring nightmare is based on reality. “Another dream I have often – When I had gone there (hospital), Papa had asked me to give him some water. He said aloud – Rachna give me water. So I went to get him water and over there and I met his doctor.

He dissuaded me from giving him water. He said, his burn injuries are such, water acts like poison, so don’t feed him water. Do you want to kill your own father? I said, of course not, why are you talking like this? If say you say no, I will not give him.

Then I did not give him any water. He kept asking for water. My only regret is, he asked so often for water, in his last breath and I refused to give him, because the doctors said so. This will always remain etched in my mind.
He kept asking me, saying he is extremely thirsty because he said it was burning from inside. He kept saying please give me little, just a little water. And I did not give him any water, with the wish that he will get better soon and my giving water should not deteriorate his condition.
Because once he gets better soon, he can return home and have as much water as he wants.”

UNCERTAIN FUTURE

It was only after at least two personal interactions that the Singhs opened up enough to reveal another fact.

That the Minister they loathed was still in touch with them and continued to help them.

In late March, Rahul Singh fell off his motorbike and fractured his arm. His elder brother Rajan rushed him to the doctor who was not available.

“My brother called the Minister and asked him for help in organising a doctor,” admitted Rahul. “I did not know about this until we went in to meet the doctor. The doctor asked – oh so you are the ones sent by Mantriji (Minister). I asked him later if he had called the Minister for help. He said that he did,” said Rahul.

Rajan is a little unsure as to whether to discuss this aspect of their strange relationship with the Minister. “There was a friend who had cancer and needed admission in SGPGI (hospital) so the Minister helped with that,” he said.

On being pressed as to whether he had asked for help for any member of his family, he said – “Yeah, sometimes we ask. He helps us.”

“He talks to me sometimes, asks about work and asks how we are,” said Rajan. He currently lives in his father’s Shahjahanpur house and works nights as a security guard.

Rahul, who was working in a private telecom firm, resigned in January after Jagendra’s father Sumer Singh passed away due to a heart attack. He now lives in Khutar with his wife, mother, Diksha and Rajan’s family.

With the grandfather’s pension of Rs 18,000 no longer coming in, both brothers are desperate for the once-promised government jobs.

This story by Sandhya Ravishankar was originally published by The Lede on June 21.

BEHIND THE STORY
Published on June 21, The Lede journalist Sandhya Ravishankar wrote a four-part series that uncovered the true reason why none of Jagendra Singh’s attackers were ever brought to justice. In the first part, The Lede recounted the background that led to Jagendra Singh’s death in June 2015. The second part revealed why his family chose to stay silent. As part of a collaboration in the Green Blood Project, 60 publications across the world featured the story, which took the story from a small town in India’s most populous state and highlighted the dangerous conditions that journalists work under in India.