We drive to Gadchiroli on a sleepy Sunday morning, when it is a picture of peace. The region is carpeted in lush greenery and houses two tribes—the Madias and the Gonds—who live deep in the forests. They are adept farmers and hunters, and in the evenings the forests ring with their song and dance. But their merry-making is subdued by another sound—the crack of gunshots. Gadchiroli is part of the dreaded ‘red corridor’—a Maoist stronghold.
Maoism thrived in Gadchiroli during the 1980s and 1990s, but the tribals remained as impoverished as they had always been. Diseases like malaria and tuberculosis were rampant, and there were no roads, schools or hospitals. Soon, many of them started growing disillusioned with the movement and surrendered.
We met a couple, Munshi Estam and Shyambatti Halami, at a colony for surrendered Maoist families established by the Gadchiroli police. Around 40 families live in the five-acre land, with plots for 174 houses. Some of these ex-Maoists work as labourers, porters and carpenters. Many return to farming in their villages. Others, like 38-year-old Munshi, work at Lloyds Metal & Energy, a company which has been in metals and mining for over 50 years.
The sun is relentless as we make our way to the home of Munshi and Shyambatti. The houses in the colony are brightly painted. Many are cluttered with household items.
Shyambatti is not yet home; she cleans utensils for neighbouring homes. In a bright yellow Lloyds T-shirt and cap, Munshi looks like he’s about to head out to play some street cricket.
Munshi was captured by Maoists from his village around 23 years ago and taken to Chhattisgarh. He says they used to brainwash the villagers, saying that the government would take over their land if they did not join them. The worst part was how much he missed his family; he was not allowed to visit his parents and brothers in Gadchiroli. After his close Maoist friends started surrendering, he too considered it. It would not be easy though, as the Maoists were quick to exact revenge on the ‘traitors’. He unsuccessfully tried to escape two or three times.
Finally, it was after meeting Shyambatti that he mustered the courage to try again. The Maoists keep transferring their members, and he met her when she was transferred to his group. There were eight other women in it, but he was attracted because of her charisma. To his delight, she agreed to marry him when he asked her. In 2021, they were granted permission to marry in a Maoist ceremony, with rituals and gunshots vastly different from their own tribal marriage rites.
Despite being from different ranks, Munshi and Shyambatti were allowed to stay in the same group. But they could not sleep together, nor were they allowed to have children. This added to their disillusionment and strengthened their resolve to leave. Finally, three years ago, they managed to surrender.
As we speak, Shyambatti walks in. She is extremely shy and only speaks the Gondi language, so it is mostly Munshi who speaks for her. Shyambatti, 29, joined Maoism in 2014. She is the eldest of five children, and she says she had no option but to join. She lived deep in the forest, where the living conditions were pathetic. Joining the Maoists was almost a matter of survival. Even after quitting, she has not visited her family as it is too dangerous.
Munshi and Shyambatti are all praise for the surrender cell of the Gadchiroli police, which helped them rebuild their lives after quitting Maoism. The officials helped them get their Aadhar and PAN cards and opened bank accounts for them. In fact, their 3-year-old son Ankit is named after Gadchiroli’s former Superintendent of Police, Ankit Goel, who extended all support to them despite there being several cases against Munshi for offences like burning vehicles. They got Rs19 lakh from the government for surrendering, and Munshi was given three months training at Lloyds before being hired as a bar bender. Now he earns a monthly salary of Rs16,000.
“We are happy now,” says Munshi. “Today, all my hopes are pinned on my son. I want to make him an engineer. I hope he too will work at Lloyds. But I don’t want him to go through the difficulties in life that we did.”
Today, they have freedom from the regimented life of a Maoist, where they had to wake up at 6am, were taught Maoist ideology, given weapons training and assigned responsibilities of maintaining the camp. “The meals were mostly rice and dal, with mutton once a month,” says Munshi. “Now, we are free to eat what we want. We have chicken thrice a week.” In their free time, they watch TV—with Munshi preferring the news and Shyambatti, serials. In the evenings, they step out to the market for supplies. “The only thing we fight about is her cooking,” says Munshi with a smile. “But of even that, I am truly appreciative. Because she comes from a remote tribal area where they did not even know what chilli or turmeric was. She used to cook only with salt. It is only after coming here that she learnt everything.”