Stateless in Amritsar: India’s Convicted Foreign Nationals and Their Eternal Wait to Go Home
When I met Abdul Sharif in February of this year, he was dressed in a pale white shirt and discoloured pants, sitting on a chair placed outside the transit camp that exists within the premises of the Amritsar Central Jail. A shaft of sunlight fell through the trees above, revealing the shadowy world in which he dwells. His gaunt face blanched, perhaps by 18 years of incarceration in Punjab, wore a withdrawn look. He gazed somewhere far into the impermeable distance. The jail authorities told him that I was meeting him to study the condition of Pakistanis in the Amritsar jail. As Sharif began to speak, his words were incoherent and voice anguished. He stuttered now and then, reiterating that being confined to the camp “often leads to a strain” in his head. Just the mention of his home and his eyes began to tear up. He is among those imprisoned foreigner nationals who have completed their sentences but are lodged in the transit camp until their nationalities can be ascertained. Many of these overstays or internees as they are referred to in the jail, show possible signs of mental illness.
According to the authorities at the Amritsar jail, Sharif was detained in 1997 by the Border Security Force (BSF) on charges of crossing the border and was sentenced to four months under the Foreigners Act of 1946 and section 3/34/20 of the Indian Passport Act of 1967 for not having a legitimate passport and travelling without the documents that are usually issued to non-Indians. He completed his sentence in July 1997 and was sent to the transit camp at the Amritsar jail as an internee. At the time of his arrest, he claimed to have been from Zabol province that is located at Baluchistan in Pakistan. He received consular access from Pakistan; but his Pakistani nationality could not be confirmed.
The Amritsar jail authorities told me that Sharif’s case is further complicated by the fact that he has been diagnosed with mild schizophrenia which may affect his ability to effectively communicate his antecedents to the authorities. Several years after he had finished his sentence, Sharif said that he was from the city of Zabol, Baluchistan in Iran. He also claimed that his real name was Gulam Sakhi. Sharif was provided with consular access from the High Commission of Iran; however, his Iranian nationality could not be established either. He continues to languish in the transit camp at the Amritsar jail despite completing his sentence 18 years ago. When I approached the Embassy of Iran in June for the verification of his details which I received from the jail authorities, the officials at the embassy noted that Zabol is a province in Afghanistan as well. In Afghanistan, Zabol is one of the 34 provinces situated in the south of the country. It shares a border with Balochistan in Pakistan and its population is mostly tribal. In Iran, Zabol is a city in Sistan and Baluchestan province and shares a border with Afghanistan. Soon after, towards the end of July I paid a visit to the Embassy of Afghanistan with Sharif’s details for verification. The process is underway.
According to the jail authorities in Amritsar, there are currently 42 Pakistanis in the Amritsar jail of which 25 are internees, 13 are convicts and four are under trials. Out of these 42 Pakistanis, I interviewed around 30 including some who had been declared mentally unwell. A few of them suffer from chronic depression; some have been diagnosed with schizophrenia. The rest were not in a condition to interact with me due to serious mental health issues. I tried to determine why so many of the internees suffered from such serious mental issues and if these were prior conditions or brought about by their confinement here. Despite my repeated questioning, the jail authorities were ambiguous.
Many of these internees have completed their sentences and are awaiting deportation. Naim, an internee who claims to be from Sialkot in Pakistan—a fact the authorities have not been able to confirm—hesitantly walked towards the chair to talk to me. “Naim has been diagnosed with schizophrenia and is undergoing medical treatment. However, his condition is much better now,” the internee who was seated beside him told me. As Naim began to speak, his words were unintelligible and his demeanour inhibited. Eventually, there was clarity in his voice as he spoke about his home.
Naim said that he used to work in a factory that manufactured footballs in Sialkot. He was detained in 2012 for border crossing by the BSF under the Foreigners Act of 1946. On the completion of his sentence, he had received consular access from Pakistan; but due to his mental condition, was unable to clearly communicate the location of his family there. However, as a result of the medical treatment that he is currently undergoing, his condition is said to have improved. Naim has recently been able to provide the authorities with the contact details of his family in Pakistan. The process to verify these details is currently underway.
Another internee, Ferozdin shares a story similar to Naim’s. He told the jail authorities that he hailed from the Kasur district in Pakistan. He was detained by the BSF in Ferozpur in 2013 on charges of border crossing. As Ferozdin sat quietly on the chair, his expression imperceptible, a jail official told me that Ferozdin had received consular access from Pakistan—the official did not seem to be sure of when—but his nationality could also not be confirmed because of his mental condition. As with Naim, I was told by the authorities that his condition is said to have improved with treatment and that he was able to give them details on where he lived before he was arrested. The authorities have sent the most recent information they have for verification to the consulate of Pakistan.
Rajeb Ali is yet another internee whose nationality could not be ascertained due to his mental condition. He suffers from epilepsy. Ali is supposedly from Sher-e-Khuda, Sindh in Pakistan. He received consular access from Pakistan when his sentence ended; however, his nationality has not yet been confirmed. “Currently the verification process is going on with Pakistan”, a jail official told me. Ali sat briefly on the same chair that had been occupied by the others. Unable to communicate effectively, he soon left for the camp.
During the course of reporting for this story, I realised that it is nearly impossible to get any specific details on these internees from the jail authorities. Access to the records of the interness is only possible with the approval of the Assistant Director General of the Punjab Police. The officials who accompanied the internees could not always confirm to me whether an internee had consular access. In many cases, the chaperones were also unable to tell me what the state of the internee’s mental health was. A general medical practitioner visits the Amritsar jail daily, and a psychiatrist goes to the prison weekly. Apart from these routine visits, the internee’s only other source for support and help are the officials who are assigned to supervise them.
The website of the Amritsar jail states that “a portion of this Prison has also been notified as Internee Camp for the entire State of Punjab to accommodate the foreigners awaiting deportation.” Technically the internees are residing in a transit or internee camp. However, as the jail authorities told me, since the transit camp is within the premises of the prison, the rules of the jail manual apply even to the internees awaiting deportation despite there being no clarity on the matter. As several officers from the Amristar jail pointed out to me themselves, while camps in Delhi and Alwar are governed by the department of social welfare, the transit camp in Amritsar follows the jail manual. This means that the internees are confined in the lock-up from 7 pm to 6 am and then again from 12 pm to 3 pm. They are only allowed to move within the premises of the transit camp. Those detainees whose contact details have been verified are allowed to communicate with their families through letters that are screened by the superintendent. They are not allowed to make any international phone calls.
Ideally, the authorities seemed to imply, the transit camp should be separate from the prison so that the rules of the jail do not apply to those awaiting deportation. Additionally, those internees whose mental health is such that they cannot provide any information about themselves are likely to recover better if they are given adequate attention in regards to regular access to mental health professionals, treatment, and constant supervision, ensuring that they are able to help the jail authorities ascertain their place of origin.
The Mental Health Act of 1987, which only came into force in 1993, does not allow the lodging of mentally ill persons in jails. Furthermore, Rule 82 of the Standard Minimum Rules for the Treatment of Prisoners (adopted by the United Nations in 1955) states, “Persons who are found to be insane shall not be detained in prisons and arrangements shall be made to remove them to mental institutions as soon as possible and; “Prisoners who suffer from other mental diseases or abnormalities shall be observed and treated in specialised institutions under medical management.”
Among internees I met, many of whom were mentally ill and unable to confirm their nationalities, Akil’s case was a bright spark. Akil, who introduced to me by the official who accompanied me as “mentally unsound”, hails from the Abottabad district in Pakistan. He was detained by the BSF at Husseini, in Ferozpur in 2013. He received consular access from Pakistan and the verification process of his address has been completed. Despite speaking to his family two years ago in 2013, he is still awaiting deportation home.
In 2014, the Delhi High Court drafted guidelines for processing the cases of foreigners in Indian prisons once they have completed their sentences. According to these guidelines, foreigners who have completed their sentences in Indian prisons are to be deported to their respective countries within two weeks. The guidelines also mandate that those prisoners whose nationalities cannot be determined by the government must be issued an identity certificate and a long-term visa within a period of two weeks to ensure they can stay and earn a livelihood in India until a permanent arrangement is made. These foreign nationals can also be referred to the United Nations for possible resettlement outside India. The guidelines further specify that all such foreigners should be shifted to detention centres from prisons within a week of their sentence having been served.
These guidelines were drafted in light of the Shaikh Abdul Aziz case. In 2005, Aziz who claimed to be from Saudi Arabia, was detained in Jammu and Kashmir for entering India illegally. In 2006, he was sentenced to one-year imprisonment in a Jammu and Kashmir jail. After completing his sentence in 2007, Aziz was to be deported to his home country. He was sent to Delhi and confined at the high security jail in Tihar while the ministry of external affairs initiated the process to verify his nationality. His details could not be verified and Aziz continued to languish in Tihar jail for seven years.
In 2013, Aziz managed to communicate his situation in writing to a judicial officer visiting the jail on inspection. This letter was eventually forwarded to the Delhi High Court. The court took suo moto—to begin a legal process on its own—cognisance of the letter; regarded it as a habeas corpus petition and ordered the central government to transfer Aziz to a detention centre and confirm his nationality within two weeks. The central government took up the issue with the High Commission of Bangladesh since he had entered India through its borders. But the authorities at the High Commission were unable to establish his identity as well.
The court declared Aziz’s detention illegal and directed the central government, the government of Jammu and Kashmir and the government of NCT (National Capital Territory), Delhi to pay him compensation amounting to Rs two lakhs. Aziz who was earlier labelled a “terror suspect”and detained as a high-security prisoner under the J&K Public Security Act, was declared “stateless” by the central government. He was issued a long term visa and an identity certificate. Tihar jail facilitated his employment as a security guard with a private company and his employers also provided him with official accommodation. This case provides precedence for all those overstays in India who have completed their sentences and are still languishing within prisons.
Those at Amritsar jail have not been as lucky as Aziz. An official I spoke to from the jail told me that even though they had sent several letters to the ministry of home affairs and the ministry of external affairs highlighting the predicament of these internees, there has been no response. The case of Abdul Sharif is one such example among many. I met a senior official at the ministry of home affairs early this year, who told me that the ministry is willing to release Sharif even if his nationality cannot be ascertained, but only to the custody of an organisation or a non-governmental organisation that is willing to bear the cost of his financial and medical needs. As of now, even with the help of the Commonwealth Human Rights Initiative and the International Committee of the Red Cross, this is proving to be a difficult task.