I am Saptanath Neupane (pic), a farmer from Nuwakot who can’t afford two square meals a day. Since I was 12, I have been a day labourer. You probably don’t have time to listen to me and I doubt that even if you do you will do anything about it.
We grew enough food on our land to feed the family, but I toiled as a porter to put my eldest son Arjun through school so he got a college degree. Arjun was born in 1975 and after completing his SLC from Tupche, he enrolled in Saraswati Campus in Kathmandu. He was a good student and even got a scholarship in college. He never fought with anyone and couldn’t bear to see anyone in distress. After graduation, he got a job at the Uttargaya School in Tupche. In 2001, he went underground to join the Maoists. My fourth son joined the Maoist army after he completed his SLC and became a commander.
Baburamji, I heard your daughter is now doing her PhD. I won’t begrudge you that, you have money and power that gave her that opportunity. My son may have also done his PhD if I was better off. I also heard that you took your father on a religious pilgrimage. That’s what sons are for. If you hadn’t waged a war, my son would also have been home and taken me on a pilgrimage. Prachandaji, you have your family around you. I don’t.
I wasn’t a Maoist, yet the torture I suffered for having sons who joined your revolution will take days to describe. Security forces dragged me out of the house on a cold winter night. I get goosebumps remembering what they did to me. They looked at my rough farmers’ hands and accused me of carrying guns, if I had red eyes they’d say I’d been up all night plotting a revolution. If I spoke, they asked me to shut up. If I kept quiet, they’d taunt me. I was locked up for weeks on end, and had to pay for meals out of my own pockets. Let’s not talk about the torture. I still can’t stand straight. Another son working in the capital disappeared, we had lost all hope of him returning but somehow he came back.
You have become politicians in Kathmandu riding the backs of people like my sons, yet you have forgotten their sacrifices. If those who supported you throughout your struggle don’t support you now, what is the use of your politics? My son couldn’t find any alternative to pay off his debts, so he went to Malaysia. I went to your headquarter thrice to get a job for my eldest grandson. No one met me.
How will you take care of the entire country if you can’t even take care of one family that suffered for you? You needed young people like my son to get to power, and now you have abandoned them. You gave them hope, and turned them to ashes.
My son had integrity and worked for the community, he built a computer lab in his school. If he hadn’t joined your so called revolution, my son would have been the head master instead of being a security guard in Malaysia. I know you will call him again, when you need him.
After my son left, the village council hasn’t met for a meeting even once. I know there are others who have suffered more than I have. The wounds you inflicted on us haven’t healed.