Hika Awomi
Purana Bazar B, Dimapur
Let me tell you a story about Ato. He is a farmer living in a small village far away from the state capital Kohima, cultivating fields and earning daily wages. Two of his eldest sons had dropped out of high school, got married, and have children. The younger ones attending LPS and GMS.
As usual, while listening to the evening local dialect radio program, he heard about the announcement of nomination and voting day for the Nagaland state general election.
“Finally after five years,” he exhaled. Gathering his children, he told them, “this election we are going to vote for the candidate who is likely to win. We will not take any money, that way, we can go and ask for government jobs once the election is won. At least grade 4 post.”
One day, as Ato was toiling, clearing the jungle for the coming season, his son came calling, “dad there is someone in our house, he came from a big, long vehicle, wearing black chesuma. He gave me this 100 rupee note,” showing it, “and told me to bring you home because he needed to talk to you about something urgent.”
Ato and his wife came running home.
“Hey, how are you Ato?” Before they could even keep their basket, the man removed his sunglasses and shook their dirty hands. Like a rabbit fur brushing the porcupine quill. Tussle between sour sweat and sweet smell.
Ato's house on the verge of collapsing. The roof made of cut-out oil tin. Rusted.
The man opened the back door of his car. They could see many packages in black polythene. Taking out one, he handed it to the mother, who shyly took it. Later, when they opened it was everyday, sugar, and mazagold. Estimated amount less than 1000 rs.
Seated in a torn morah drinking black tea, the man asked, “Whom are you going to vote for this election?” being very gentle.
“Ah cho brother, I have decided to study the wind and vote accordingly,” Ato nervously replied. “This time, at least one of my sons should get a government job.”
The man nodded and said, “All right. Don't stress over it. Let's win the election and I'll take care of their job. Just stick with me during the election.” He assured them.
Ato and this man's grandfather were related. He is a first-class contractor who resides in Kohima and works in the secretariat. They last spoke five years ago, during an election campaign.
A few days later, the man woke Ato in the middle of the night. His vehicle was parked outside the house. “Get dressed Ato, I'll let you have an interview with the candidate. He is waiting.”
Getting dressed they went to another village and sat with the candidate.
First time sitting in this luxurious vehicle, Ato's eyes glittered. He was taken to a nearby village. The candidate stood and welcomed him, shaking his hand. He had heard of this person many times, but this was the first time seeing his face. They sat facing each other.
“Bring tea and biscuits for Ato,” the candidate instructed, making him feel warm and comfortable.
“How many voters are in your Family?”
“16 votes Sir.” He replied humbly, slurping the tea.
“Come whenever you require assistance, Brother. My door is always open for you.”
5 YEARS
After Ato had pledged his unwavering support, the candidate opened the briefcase and handed him a bundle of 500 rs notes. When Ato refused to take it, saying that he will need help after the election was won, the candidate replied, “this is for your trouble coming here tonight. I'm not buying your vote. It's not for your vote.”
Later when he counted at home there were 16 thousand rupees.
The next day onwards, he and his sons and daughters went to their candidate's mess in the village. Each night they were given money and alcohol. They gambled the whole night, having the time of their lives. Pack of cigarettes which cost 100 rocketed to 500 rs.
Days before the election, a wealthy village chieftain came to Ato’s house and told him, “You have to follow me, Ato.” Having no ancestral land, Ato frequently asks him for assistance for firewood and cultivable land.
When Ato refused, “What are you going to do after the election? Not listening to me Ato.” But he was adamant. “I'll see you later,” he warned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Later, a group of men wearing cargo pants and camouflage jackets, with their faces covered came from a gypsy and kidnapped Ato from his house. He was beaten and tortured to vote for their supporter. They needed him as he had many votes. He wouldn't budge. On the voting day two of his children pressed the NOTA button. They weren't of legal age. Luckily Ato’s supporter won. He called the man to congratulate but wouldn't pick up. He thought maybe he was busy and would call back after seeing his miscall, but the call never came.
Days later, he tried again. The man picked up and told him that he was busy, and wouldn't talk to him like in the earlier days. His tone has changed. He was now boastful.
Ato wanted the man to take him to meet the minister. He had no idea where the minister lived. Desperately, he enquired, and along with other supporters from the village went to Kohima to talk with the minister. They waited outside the residence until dusk.
They were let in when the minister returned from office. They were seated in a room as the minister ate.
Ato enthusiastically asked to give his children jobs. He has even brought the documents in his worn-out bag. To which the minister replied, “I have already paid you the money for your votes, but keep the documents on the table. I'll see.” Ato couldn't imagine how he lied blankly, straight face. But what could he do now?
In addition to receiving the contract between Dimapur and Kohima, the man also got an LDA post for his daughter.
With money intended for his constituency, the minister continued to pay off his debts created during election. His constituency road remained untouched, dusty during dry, and served as a drainage on rainy season. Development remained an alien word, unheard to the voters.
You see in the village, the man was influential as he was among the illiterate, while in the Kohima, he was just another officer without much influence. Everyone was educated, and competition was high, so he wisely chose the village for his political involvement.
5 YEARS
For Ato, since the chief refused to help him, he had to go pleading the wealthy villagers for cultivatable land and other needs.
They gave him a glimpse of hope for a short period with their promise only to humiliate and break him, instilling in him a distrust for humanity.
