Residents rejected the offer, so the police and guards fired tear gas and bullets at them, forcing them out of the village into the surrounding woods. The company took their possessions, their food and clothing, and burned down all 100 homes. “We watched from above, them burning our things. Some of our homes wouldn’t burn because of the rain, so they used gasoline.” Under the forest canopy, they endured the storm. With nowhere to go, they returned and built inprovised shelters—plastic, bamboo, wooden posts—atop the burnt foundations. “Many days of cold and wet. Terrible days...” Just over a week later the soldiers and private security forces returned. Company helicopters had been seen in previous days as villagers gathered wood for their shelters, fished and hunted. “We knew they were coming, so many of us were not around, we had just basic huts rebuilt.” At this point in his story, over an hour in, Raul rests his voice and hands, looking toward the ground, out to the fields of cardamom, dull green. Attention draws towards the front row of mothers and children. “And this was when some of the women...” he continues, “They were violated... And it is time that their stories are heard.”
by Nathan EinbinderThe Dominion is a monthly paper published by an incipient network of independent journalists in Canada. It aims to provide accurate, critical coverage that is accountable to its readers and the subjects it tackles. Taking its name from Canada's official status as both a colony and a colonial force, the Dominion examines politics, culture and daily life with a view to understanding the exercise of power.