AFRAJUL SOUGHT UPWARD ECONOMIC MOBILITY — A DREAM SHARED BY MILLIONS OF POOR MIGRANTS

conspiracy perpetrated by Muslim men seeking to convert non-muslim girls on the pretext of romance or marriage.

It was a lean day for Afrajul until he received that phone call. That day, the batch of workers living with him was visiting West Bengal, as construction had come to a halt in the wake of the Supreme Court order in November banning the mining of sand and bajri (gravel) in Rajasthan. After his morning tea, Afrajul got busy tallying the daily log of workers maintained in a brown register.

The same morning, about two kilometres from his house in a neighbourhood of roughly 200 dwellings known as Regar mohalla, Shambhu Nath Regar was getting impatient to kill a migrant labourer named Ajju Sheikh.

More than five years ago, a Hindu girl, Regar’s neighbour and acquaintance, had allegedly travelled with Sheikh to Malda, resulting in an animosity between the two men who never met but spoke over the phone, said the police. Even though the girl eventually returned to Rajsamand, Regar never got over the incident.

In the series of five short video clips that would go viral later that evening, Regar’s rage, according to the police, was directed at Sheikh.

Regar told the police that he ended up getting Afrajul’s number when he was looking for Ajju Sheikh’s contact details at Jal Chakki, a 30-foot-wide road in Rajsamand lined with shops selling construction equipment and machines, big and small. This is where migrants, particularly from West Bengal, spend their leisure time discussing work, politics and life.

Around 9 am, Regar phoned Afrajul thinking he was talking to Sheikh.

At 10.30 am, Regar met Afrajul over tea and asked him to reach the ‘site’ where he wanted a boundary wall constructed. Having laid the trap, Regar went to fetch a pick-axe, scimitar, petrol and his 15-yearold nephew who would film the killing, blow by blow, steadily, on a smartphone.

After killing Afrajul, sometime between 11.30 am and 1 pm, Regar escaped to his relative’s house in Rajsamand from where he was arrested the following day.

Some passersby alerted the police to the foul fumes and charred remains of flesh lying on wet grass at the narrow entrance leading to an empty plot. The registration number of Afrajul’s motorbike, parked at the spot, ended with the numbers 786, sacred to Muslims. The police informed Mohammad Rafiq Khan, a social activist in Rajsamand, expecting some leads. Khan reached the spot. He could read three letters “…jul” on the partially burnt Aadhaar card. With these two clues, Khan began dialling every number of the Bengali community that he had in his phone book.

Around the same time when the police was trying to identify Afrajul’s body, his son-in-law, Mosharraf, and 28-year-old nephew, Inamul Sheikh, were about to cook a meal on the earthen stove in the compound outside their rooms.

“If he was not back for lunch, we assumed that he would eat outside,” said Mosharraf. Around 3.30 pm, the police phoned Mosharraf and said that Afrajul had met with an accident. Mosharraf and Inamul rushed to the spot.

Afrajul was seeking upward economic mobility – a dream shared by millions of poor migrants. And he was about to achieve it.

The third among two daughters and three sons born to an agricultural labourer Hafijuddin, Afrajul married Gul Bahar in 1989 when he was 20.

He liked vegetarian food – daal bhaat – more than fish, the staple diet in his native region, his wife said. He would bond with acquaintances, friends and fellow workers over tea. “Aa tujhe chai pilaata hun (come, let me get you a tea),” he would tell them, wrapping his arm around their shoulders.

At first, he wanted to stay in Sayedpur. But working on farm land as a labourer, he couldn’t afford to raise their three daughters. Eight years after his marriage, he moved to Rajsamand, the Rajasthan town synonymous with marble.

“He struggled for the first five years. He didn’t get regular work,” said his wife.

“When he first arrived in Rajsamand, he was a quiet young man, there was nothing distinctive about him,” said Mohammad Yunus who had been Afrajul’s landlord for

In cold blood

Mohammad Rafiq, a social worker, showing the spot where Shambhu Lal Regar killed Afrajul. Rajasthan police had sought his help in identifying the body.

Deserted

Jal Chakki, the crossroad in Rajsamand, where migrant workers from West Bengal spend their free time. Almost all the traders and dealers here knew Afrajul.

Bare essentials A good man

RAJSAMAND, Rajasthan

Having lived in Rajsamand for 20 years, Afrajul helped his relatives and fellow villagers migrate there.

Afrajul’s room in Rajsamand and that of his fellow migrants looked like lodges with basic utility items such as trunks, clothes, bed sheets, tiffin boxes, and a TV set. eight years. While working on projects outwho side Rajsamand, he lived in makeshift accommodation near construction sites along with fellow labourers, observing them and the way they worked. Slowly he won the trust of local transporters, traders and mechanics such as Mohammad Rafeeq MALDA, West Bengal

Mourning

Afrajul’s grave in Malda’s Sayedpur village. More than 1,000 men from the village and surrounding pockets participated in the

funeral to show solidarity with the deceased and his family.

Shattered

More than himself, Afrajul was concerned about his wife Gul Bahar and daughters, Joshnara Bibi, Razina Khatoon and Habiba Khatoon. In the past few years, he was content with the fact that he was able to get two of his daughters married.

United in grief

Visitors at Afrajul’s Sayedpur house. Since the tragedy, villagers have been discussing how to remain safe while working outstation and the employment opportunities they can explore in their state. operates auto-rickshaws in Jal Chakki. Rafeeq used to take Afrajul and his workers to various sites. “He was a simple, straightforward man. I don’t remember him having an argument with anyone,” he said.

Afrajul rose to become a contractor who would supply labour for construction work, especially the raising of reinforced concrete roofs across the Mewar region.

“As a contractor, he was very particular about paying the dues of his workers on time,” said his nephew Inamul Sheikh. Gradually, things began looking up.

Earning ~15,000-20,000 a month depending on the work he got, Afrajul was determined to improve the living standard of his family back home. “Sansaar maintain ho raha hai,” he would respond when someone asked how he was faring.

He would visit Sayedpur once every three months. Last October, he was home for Muharram. “It was his ritual to get us sweets and murabba. He got them last time too,” said his daughter Rezina Khatoon. “All my cousins used to eagerly wait for him as he would bring gifts for everyone,” she said.

Lately, he had been saving money for the marriage of his daughter Habiba Khatoon, 18, the closest to her abba (father), among the three sisters.

Last year, Afrajul bought a motorcycle, his first brand new vehicle. In September, he bought his first smartphone.

The murder had a spiralling effect.

More than two dozen fellow villagers, including his younger brother, cousin, both his sons-in-law and a nephew were dependent on Afrajul for work and accommodation in Rajsamand.

The day following the murder, Rajsamand witnessed an exodus. Bengalis boarded the earliest trains available to leave the district. “Even locals are scared,” said Khaleel Mohammad, who runs Rajsamand Motors, and routinely rented machinery to Afrajul. He estimated that 500 workers had left.

In early December last year, Muslim groups rallied in Udaipur to protest against the killing. On December 14, there were counter protests in Udaipur in violation of Section 144 resulting in clashes between the protesters and the police. More than 200 people were arrested for arson and rioting. Organisers said that they were against the inflammatory slogans raised by Muslim bodies while condemning Afrajul’s killing.

When Afrajul’s brother Rum Khan completed an arduous 48-hour road journey to take the corpse back to Sayedpur, more than 1,000 people participated in Afrajul’s funeral, wondering “Why him”?