On August 21, the entire family of teacher Ganapati was murdered in a single night in Masuapara, Rangpur. His father, mother, daughter, and only son, a school-going child, were all killed. The very next day, police arrested two people who reportedly confessed before a court. According to the police, the case should practically be solved by now. But the DNA test results have still not arrived, and not a single report has been received for any of the 35 different pieces of evidence collected from the scene. Meanwhile, the very people living in the neighborhood, who have been directly affected by the tragedy, say they have absolutely no confidence in the police version of events. Even the victims’ relatives do not believe that two people could have strangled four members of the family one by one.
If the BNP-Jamaat government truly believes the case is finished, then why are people still living in fear? And if the matter is not over, why has not even a single laboratory report been produced in a month and a half? Police are now stationed at the house where the killings took place, and no one is allowed to enter without permission from senior authorities. Yet, after a meeting, the district administration said that all necessary measures had been taken. A local Hindu homemaker said she does not believe the administration is capable of providing full security. One resident said that in the beginning, there was a constant presence of police and journalists, but now everyone has fallen silent. It is this silence that raises the biggest questions.
The BNP is running the government, while Jamaat is a partner in power in parliament. The responsibility for accountability therefore rests squarely on the shoulders of both parties. In a country where an entire Hindu family from a religious minority can be wiped out and no clear answers emerge even after a month and a half, it is hardly unreasonable to ask: how much is the life of a minority person worth?
And it is in this environment that people are being told that Durga Puja will take place. There are no decorations at the temples. Children have not been bought new clothes. An elderly woman says, “Only God knows what might happen next.” In such circumstances, talking about celebration is not a source of reassurance. It is, instead, a matter of profound shame.
