The Whole Family
A photo-essay on Nepal's fragmented families, whose loved ones were forcefully disappeared by state security forces during the People’s War.
Amidst the COVID-19 pandemic, the socio-economic life of people in Nepal abruptly came to a halt. People were stuck inside four walls. Long days of lockdown began. Those close to family members had their support, but those isolated from them, in far-off places, became economically and emotionally vulnerable. Migrant laborers began searching for any way to return home.
Traumatic stories about this mass return began circulating in the media. We saw workers walking all the way from Solukhumbu to the Kailali district to get home. We heard about migrant workers walking back home from the alleyways of various Indian cities. Many returned to their ancestral lands and were reconnected with their families. This was their last hope. Everyone wanted to be home during these days of despair.
But amidst this mass return, some hundreds of people never did come back: those forcefully disappeared during the People’s War in Nepal (1996-2006). Their family members waited, hopeful that this pandemic might bring them back.
The toll of the 10 year-long People's War was profound: over 17,000 people killed, an estimated 20,000 tortured, hundreds raped, and more than 1530 y disappeared. Nepal’s state security forces at the time — which included the Royal Nepal Army, the Armed Police Force, and the Nepal Police — were behind most of the forced disappearances. Since the end of the conflict, the government has provided very limited support to survivors or the families of the disappeared nor has it properly accounted for the numerous human rights abuses that occurred.
On 21 November 2006, the Government of Nepal and the then Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist) signed the Comprehensive Peace Accord (CPA), marking the end of the conflict. It brought "peace" to the country and achieved many political goals, including federalism and a new constitution. However, after 14 years and 11 different Prime Ministers, no government has seriously investigated the disappearances. The commissions once formed to investigate the crimes of the conflict are now outdated. Their discourse of “transitional justice” also approached memory, truth, and justice in legalistic terms. Missing from this discourse was the personal accounts of families of the disappeared.
“Beloved brother, father sent you to the city to study because you were a good student. He always hoped that you'd earn for the house and look after us, whereas I chose to stay home assisting our father on the farm. We don't know where the army took you. We don't know where they've still kept you. Father, who hoped you'd come back one day, also passed away. His hopes also vanished together with him.
The rest of us still hope that you'll come back one day, perhaps on one of the festival days in our village. There's a rumor in the village that you, along with others disappeared, probably won't come back. In these days of the pandemic, where the radio and TV keep showing the family members returning home after years, we long for your return too.”
— Dharma Raj Mali, brother of disappeared Baburaja Mali
Baburaja Mali was reported missing from Patan on 18 December 2004.
“My beloved brother,
After our father passed away, the entire responsibility of our house was on your shoulders. You never let me miss our father. You were so joyful all the time and I don't remember you scolding me even once. You were planning to rebuild our old house and that is when they took you away.
A week before Dashain, the army came and searched our house. On the day of Phulpati, we heard that you were arrested. Since that day, Mom cries every time she sees your photo. That is why we've hidden all your photos inside a cupboard.
Brother, I have built the house you dreamt of. Mom and I look forward to seeing you again. I think you will soon come back, get back to doing social work and things will be like they used to.”
— Rama Mali, sister of disappeared Rajendra Mali.
Rajendra Mali was reported missing from Patan on 22 October 2003.
“I heard you used to carve god's statues. The tools that you used to carve the gods and the half-done bronze statue of Buddha are still in the house. Nowadays, if I walk past any idol shops, I think of you Baba.
I was only 3 years old when you were captured by the army, so I don't remember you. My sister and I grew up looking at your photo. Since you haven't returned in so many years, it seems like everything Grandma has told us about you is just a fairytale.
In the meantime, Grandma, who searched for you in every army barrack and police station, passed away. However, we have not given up hope that you will return from somewhere during Navadurga’s jatra as our grandmother hoped.”
— Swastika Mali, youngest daughter of the disappeared Nanda Gopal Mali.
Nanda Gopal Mali was arrested and disappeared by the state security forces from Tahachal in Kathmandu in June 2004.
“The villagers still remember you as a very friendly and supportive boy. Brother, you were also my first friend. I remember you wanted to change society at a very young age. Perhaps the state could not tolerate your level of consciousness. It has been 17 years since the army abducted you. I saw your name listed along with 49 other people who were killed in the Bhairabhnath barracks. I am not ready to admit that you were killed until I see your body.
Mother keeps telling us that you often come in her dreams. That is why I still hold hope that you will return from somewhere.”
— Aamosh Shrestha, brother of the disappeared Pipal Shrestha.
Pipal Shrestha was abducted by the state security forces from Kalimati, Kathmandu on 27 December 2003.
“You wanted to see me become a doctor. You would buy me school bags and shoes. The memories of playing and traveling with you as a child are still fresh.
Brother, we lost all social support after the army captured you. Our mother tried as much as she could to find you. She passed away with the hope that you would return one day. Within a few years of her death, our father passed away too. Your younger brother and I are left at home. Both of us have gone through some tough times. The younger brother works as a daily wage-laborer. I teach young children in a Montessori. Sometimes I role play with them pretending we are doctors and nurses. In these moments, I miss you so much.
Every year, just before your birthday, mother would take your astrological chart to the astrologer. For years, the astrologer predicted that you will return. These days, whenever I visit him, he still tells me that you will return. Where-ever you are, please come home soon!”
— Bidhya Shahi, sister of the disappeared Ajay Shahi.
Ajay Shahi disappeared from Tusal, Kathmandu by the then Royal Nepal Army on 19 July 2004.
“Dad, I had a feeling that you went missing when I was a kid. All my friends used to have their father around, but not mine. I also learned more about you while attending various programs for the disappeared with mother. But Grandpa didn't even let me feel that you were not around. He became a guardian to me until he passed away. After he was gone, I understood the meaning of your disappearance and the emptiness that came with it.
Mother never let me feel your absence. She raised me singlehandedly. After the death of grandpa, she has been running the nursery alone. I wonder how comfortable and happy Mom would be if you were here today, father.
There is now a pandemic all over the world. As I see others returning from the cities, I sometimes feel like you will also return.”
— Ritika Thapa, daughter of the disappeared Rajendra Thapa.
Rajendra Thapa was arrested and disappeared from his house in Imadol by the Nepal Army who came to his house in plain clothes on 18 December 2003.
“Some witnesses apparently saw Nepali Army soldiers beating you up in the Kushulechaur area of Kathmandu. When you realized that you were about to get arrested, you shouted, "I am Bhim Giri. The army is about to arrest me. Please inform my family and make sure the media know about it." There are people who heard you saying this. Those people who saw you inside Bhairabhnath barracks are still alive. But this state is hell-bent on denying knowing what happened to you.
Now I live and farm in Dhapakhel. Sometimes I think that if you were here, you would have supported within this work. Your absence, like my husband, is always felt, but I still dream that you will come back.”
— Tika Bastola 'Rekha', wife of the disappeared Bhim Giri.
Bhim Giri was abducted by the then army in plain clothes from Kushulechaur in Kathmandu on 3 December 2003.
“Just a few days before you were arrested, DSP Bikram Singh Thapa's police team came to our house to search for you. They threatened us. After a few days, we heard on the news that you, Dil Bahadur Rai, and Kabi Gautam were arrested. After 6 months, Kabi Gautam got released but you still haven’t returned. Kabi had told us every detail about what happened since the moment of your arrest to the room you were staying in.
We inquired everywhere for you. I complained to political leaders, police officers, human rights organizations, legal organizations, and journalists. I met all the people I needed to meet. There was no place left to ask for help. But no news came. No one wanted to speak. But then, a proposal came: "If your son is alive, surrendering him can set him free." I refused straightaway. Son, you didn't ask for permission to get involved in politics. You stood firm in your beliefs. You have been interested in politics since childhood.
All I can say about you is that if you were around, you would have been an important role-model in this nation and you would still be active in politics today.”
— Ek Raj Bhandari, father of the disappeared Bipin Bhandari.
Bipin Bhandari was arrested along with his friend Dil Bahadur Rai from Kalimati on 17 June 2006 and went missing.
“Everyone seems to return to their house during these uncertain times. When I read the stories of those who reached home from far away, I also hoped that my father would return home from somewhere. But he has been arrested by the state and made to disappear.
My father was a lawyer. He was also the president of the Gorkha District Bar Association at the time of the disappearance. Although he was working in the field of law, the law to search him is silent till today. We are still hopeful about finding him.”
—Bibek Dhakal, son of the disappeared Rajendra Dhakal.
Rajendra Dhakal was arrested and disappeared by a police team led by Inspector Kush Bikram Rana while he was bathing in the river while going to the Tanahu district for work on 8 January 1999.
Note: A version of this photo-essay was published in the Record and Raiot.
Bikkil Sthapit is a rights activist and photographer. Lately, his work has centered on enforced disappearances during the People's War. He's also a founder of an oral history initiative: SunaMeroKatha.com