Mahibul Hoque

Sarbajaya Bhattacharya

Editor

large_01-PXL_20240504_075306023-MH-Doubtful_voters-neither_here_nor_there.jpg

medium_01-PXL_20240504_075306023-MH-Doubtful_voters-neither_here_nor_there.jpg

small_01-PXL_20240504_075306023-MH-Doubtful_voters-neither_here_nor_there.jpg

thumbnail_01-PXL_20240504_075306023-MH-Doubtful_voters-neither_here_nor_there.jpg

01-PXL_20240504_075306023-MH-Doubtful_voters-neither_here_nor_there.jpg

“Election day is like a festival in
this area,” says Marjina Khatun, sorting through the clothes she will weave
into a quilt. “People who have gone to other states for work, come back home to
vote.”  



The village of Rupakuchi, where she
lives, falls under the Dhubri Lok Sabha constituency where the voting took place
on May 7, 2024. 



But the 48-year-old Marjina did not
vote. “I ignore the day. I even hide inside the house to avoid people.” 



Marjina is listed as a Doubtful
Voter (D-Voter) in the electoral rolls – one of the 99,942 people in this
category of voters who have allegedly been unable to provide credible evidence
to prove their Indian citizenship. Most are Bengali-speaking Hindus and Muslims
of Assam. 



In Assam, the only Indian state to have
D-voters, alleged illegal immigration from Bangladesh is a key issue in
electoral politics. The Election Commission of India introduced the D-Voter
system in 1997, the same year Marjina first gave her name to the enumerators to
be included in the electoral roll. “Back then, school teachers used to visit
houses to include peoples’ names in voter lists. I also gave my name,” says
Marjina. “But when I went to vote during the next elections, I was not allowed
to vote. They said I was a D-voter.”

In 2018-19, many D-Voters in Assam
were arrested after being declared illegal immigrants in the Foreigners’
Tribunal, Marjina says as we make our way to her house.



This is when Marjina tried to find
out why she was identified as a D-voter. “I paid three advocates around Rs.
10,000 before the Covid-19 lockdown. They checked the documents in the circle
office [in Mandia] and in the tribunal [in Barpeta], but found nothing against
my name,” she says, sitting in the courtyard of her kutcha house, searching through her documents. 



Marjina is a tenant-farmer – she and
her husband Hashem Ali have leased two bighas
(0.66 acres) of unirrigated land for Rs. 8,000 each and grow paddy and
vegetables like brinjal, chilli, cucumber for their own consumption. 



Fishing out her PAN and Aadhaar
cards she says, “am I not suffering and being deprived of my voting rights
arbitrarily?” All members of her natal family have valid voter cards. The
certified copy of the voters’ list from 1965 shows Marjina’s father, Nachim
Uddin, as a resident of Maricha village in Barpeta district. “Neither of my
parents have any links to Bangladesh,” says Marjina. 



But exercising her democratic right
to vote is not the only worry plaguing Marjina. 



“I was afraid they were going to put me in a
detention centre,” Marjina says in a low voice, “I thought about how I would
live without my children, who were very young at the time. I used to think
about dying.”

Being part of a weaving group and
the companionship of other women have helped Marjina. She first learnt of the
group during the Covid-19 lockdown. The weaving group was set up by the
Barpeta-based organisation, Amra Pari, who had come to the village to
distribute relief, when, Marjina says, “baideu
[ma’am] asked a few women to start weaving khetas
[quilts].” The women saw a possibility of earning without having to step out.
“I already knew how to weave khetas,
so I could easily blend in,” she adds. 



It takes her around three to five
days to weave a quilt, and she earns around Rs. 400-500 from each sale. 



PARI also visited Marjina and
roughly 10 women at Inuwara Khatun’s home in Rupakuchi where they had gathered
to weave these traditional quilts, locally known as kheta. 



Through conversations with the other
women in the group and human rights activists who visited them, Marjina was
able to regain some of her confidence. “I work in the fields and weave khetas or some embroidery work. During
the day, I forget everything. But I still feel stressed at night.”  



She is also worried about her
children’s future. Marjina and her husband Hashem Ali have four children –
three daughters and a son. The two elder daughters are married, but the younger
siblings are still in school. And they are already worried about not getting
jobs. “Sometimes my children say that even if they get educated, they won’t be
able to get a [government] job without my citizenship documents,” Marjina says.




Marjina wishes to vote at least once in her
lifetime. “This will prove my citizenship and my children will be able to
pursue whatever job they want,” she adds.

‘Doubtful voters’: neither here nor there

حق رائے دہی سے محروم آسام کے ’مشکوک‘ ووٹر

‘అనుమానాస్పద వోటర్లు’: ఇక్కడా అక్కడా ఎక్కడా లేరు!

‘சந்தேகத்துக்குரிய வாக்காளர்கள்’: இங்கும் இல்லை, அங்கும் இல்லை

'ਸ਼ੱਕੀ ਵੋਟਰ': ਨਾ ਇੱਧਰ ਦੇ ਰਹੇ ਨਾ ਓਧਰ ਦੇ

‘ସନ୍ଦିଗ୍ଧ ମତଦାତା’: ନା ଏଠାକାର ନା ସେଠାକାର

‘डी-मतदार’ – ना तळ्यात, ना मळ्यात

'സംശയിക്കപ്പെടുന്ന സമ്മതിദായകർ': അവിടെയും ഇവിടെയും ഇല്ലാത്തവർ

ಇಲ್ಲಿಯೂ ಸಲ್ಲದ, ಅಲ್ಲಿಯೂ ಸಲ್ಲದ 'ಅನುಮಾನಾಸ್ಪದ ಮತದಾರರು'

मताधिकार से वंचित असम के 'संदिग्ध’ मतदाता

ન ઘરના કે ન ઘાટના આસામના શંકાસ્પદ મતદારો

संदेहा वोटर: न येती के, न वोती के

‘जिनगी में एक बेरा भोट डाले के चाहत बानी’

নাগরিকত্ব ঘিরে সন্দেহের ঘেরাটোপে আসামের ডি-ভোটাররা

ডি-ভোটাৰ! ইপাৰ নে সিপাৰ? সমস্যাৰ নাই পাৰাপাৰ...

Barpeta, Barpeta District, Assam, 781300, India

At present, we can only accept donations in Indian rupees by Indian citizens. All donations made to the CounterMedia Trust are eligible for exemption under Section 80G of the Income Tax Act, 1961. Here is a copy of our exemption certificate.


India is bigger than New Delhi. And people need to know more about the rest of this vast nation.


Younger, media-saturated generations are growing up knowing little about their country, but a lot about the elites of a few metros and towns. For a narrowly-owned, commercially-driven media, the dumbing down of a nation is part of standard operating procedure. The last available data of the Centre for Media Studies (CMS, Delhi) show us that reports from New Delhi account for 66 per cent of news on the front pages of major dailies. The CMS data also found that just about 0.24 per cent of front page news came out of rural India. The TV channels are not much better.PARI exists to change that.We are a non-profit organisation. We publish under creative commons, and do not charge readers a subscription fee or put-up advertisements. Nothing is behind a paywall and we are completely free-to-access by anyone. We guard our independence and receive no direct grants from governments and corporations, nor any funding that could dictate our content. So, we are dependent on volunteer labour, donations from individuals, foundations and institutions that see value in independent and free media.PARI is changing the way Indian journalism reports and documents the rural.India is more than the elite of a few metros and towns. We report on rural lives and livelihoods, languages, communities, migrants and more. We need your help to pull off this most ambitious of Indian journalistic endeavours. The scale of this effort costs money. Donate generously - and spread the word about PARI.&nbsp;

Donate FAQs


Let’s get you acquainted

Welcome to PARI

All our content is, and will forever be free to consume. If you enjoy our work, you can support us by becoming a volunteer or by donating to help fund our work.

Want to republish this article? Please write to <a href="mailto:zahra@ruralindiaonline.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">zahra@ruralindiaonline.org</a> with a cc to <a href="mailto:namita@ruralindiaonline.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">namita@ruralindiaonline.org</a>

‘Doubtful voters’: neither here nor there

The category of Doubtful-Voters (D-Voters) is unique to Assam where many Bengali-speaking Hindus and Muslims are often denied voting rights. Marjina Khatun, who has lived in Assam her whole life, once again could not cast her vote in the General Elections 2024

Related stories

A rain-scented walk in Sivagangai

Living on ravaged land

Biswas and the bamboos on his bike

Recycling energy, Godda style

Bhadels of Goa

Pookadai: still throbbing with morning life

Koli Kadlas

Malnourishment high among children of migrants: study

Wheels of the rural Indian West

Living Under a Red Cloud in Bellary

Vedla – earrings of the Maher community

Dreaming of water, drowning in debt

Kali: the dancer and his dreams

Farmer's diet worse than a convict's

In Yavatmal, life goes on

Suicides are about the living, not the dead

Death of a carpenter

Hoisa Shigmo!

Women farmers: weaving a life in Anantapur

Defiant in Dhinkia

Spice and all that's nice

Kerala's Green Army

The ‘jugaad’ not-a-mobile

Health as someone else's wealth

Calibrating in a Kudumbashree assembly unit