India-Bangladesh Land Boundary Agreement 2015 | 10 years of Indian citizenship

Asma Bibi with her husband Shahjahan Ali outside their house in Madhya Masaldanga.
| Photo Credit:
Shiv Sahay Singh
Youth at Dinhata settlement camp.
| Photo Credit:
Shiv Sahay Singh
Dinhata settlement camp.
| Photo Credit:
Shiv Sahay Singh
Joynal Abedin and Saddam Hossain stand next to a board identifying Madhya Masaldanga, an erstwhile Bangladeshi enclave that became part of Indian territory after the Land Boundary Agreement 2015. Joynal and Saddam are prominent faces who campaigned for swap of the enclaves.
| Photo Credit:
Shiv Sahay Singh
Asma Bibi, 35, says her son Jehad Ali has turned 15 years and studies in a madrasa in West Bengal’s Murshidabad district. Though the resident of Madhya Masaldanga in Cooch Behar district cannot tell the name of the madrasa or the place where her son is studying, she is very proud of him.
Asma recalls how the State-run Dinhata Subdivisional Hospital refused her admission 15 years ago when she was in labour as the village was then a Bangladeshi enclave inside Indian territory. It was only after hundreds of people from her village held protests at the hospital that she was given admission. She delivered on March 28, 2010. “We named him Jehad because his birth was part of our struggle for citizenship,” she says.
On July 31, 2015, Jehad along with 14,853 other residents of the 51 Bangladeshi enclaves located in Indian territory became Indian citizens in the Land Boundary Agreement signed between India and Bangladesh. Under the agreement, 111 Indian enclaves located deep inside Bangladeshi territory became part of the neighbouring country.
The rough and tumble of new citizenship
A decade later, Asma sits outside her house built from aluminium sheets in Madhya Masaldanga, one of the 51 enclaves, and wonders what Indian citizenship has given her family. “We have got several rights as citizens, like Aadhaar cards, electricity, and ration cards. Yet, there are several other facilities such as schools, anganwadi centres, and land and property rights that we are still fighting for,” she says.
Asma is relieved she can get admission to a government hospital and is happy to vote, but her daily life has not changed much. Her husband, Shahjahan Ali, 40, an agricultural worker, points to a narrow stretch of land in front of his house. He says he has bought it but is finding it difficult to register it in his name. “If the person from whom I bought it goes back on his word, I have no proof to show that the land is mine,” he says.
State Minister for North Bengal Development and Dinhata MLA Udayan Guha admits that there are problems with land registration, but says “these things take time”.
The couple is now building a new house with aid from the Banglar Awas Yojana, a State government scheme providing housing for the rural poor, after the Centre stopped releasing funds to the State under the Pradhan Mantri Awas Yojana in 2021. Aid of ₹1.30 lakh from the scheme is insufficient to build a house, and the couple is saving money to finish the construction.
A few metres away live Joynal Abedin, 33, and Saddam Hossain, 32, who were among the key people who campaigned for the exchange of enclaves. Since 2015, Joynal, Saddam, and the other youth of Madhya Masaldanga unfurl the Indian national flag every year on the midnight of July 31, which has become their independence day.
On the midnight of July 31 this year, about 100 people gathered outside Joynal’s house, where celebrations are held every year. No politicians were invited this year, so they decided to watch videos of earlier celebrations and the movement that led to the exchange of enclaves.
“After 10 years, the enthusiasm has gradually faded. Not many people participate in our ceremony on July 31,” Joynal says. The youth here say since they became citizens 70 years after the rest of the country, there should have been some affirmative action towards development. “After fighting for citizenship for so long, the people have been left to fend for themselves,” he says.
Joynal says the people of Madhya Masaldanga have voted in different elections: Lok Sabha polls (2019 and 2024), Assembly polls (2016 and 2021), and panchayat polls (2018 and 2023). “Now, the demands of the residents – like better education, health care, and land rights – do not strike a chord with political parties,” he says.
Still more documents to secure
A few kilometres from Madhya Masaldanga is Dakhin Masaldanga, where Chattar Ali, 36, has been running a ration shop under the State government’s public distribution system since 2016. He too wonders what difference a decade of citizenship has made to his life. “I keep thinking again and again about what we got after becoming citizens,” he says.
Chattar says half of the residents of the erstwhile enclaves have migrated to other States for work. “Two or three people in every house are working outside,” he says.
He says his cousin, Yusuf Sheikh, who was working in Delhi, was detained with his family on June 21 on suspicion of being Bangladeshi nationals. They produced their Aadhaar and voter ID cards, and other documents. A few days later, the family was released from custody.
“As citizens, we have received several facilities like roads, electricity, and solar panels. But I have six bighas of land that I can’t buy or sell because the documents are not in my name. My daughter could not apply for a Kanyashree scholarship,” he says. The Kanyashree Prakalpa scholarship provides cash transfers to girls as an incentive to stay longer in school.
Chattar recalls that during his student days, he had to use the names of Indian citizens as his parents to secure admission in State-run schools. This was necessary as listing the names of his real parents, who were residents of a Bangladeshi enclave, would have denied him admission. “For most people, these fraudulent identities have stuck with them in school marksheets and other documents. We can never be like people of the rest of India who have been citizens since their birth and did not have to fight for citizenship.”
Chattar says farmers of adjoining villages, part of India since 1947, receive benefits under the PM Kisan Samman Nidhi scheme. “When we approach officials, they tell us to file an application. This was not something that we had been told during the exchange of enclaves,” he says.
Linking land donation and a job
When the enclaves became part of India in 2015, there was a push by the district administration to set up anganwadi and primary health centres.
Yakub Ali Sheikh says he donated about three kottah (.3 acres) to build an anganwadi centre at Madhya Masaldanga in 2016. The centre was constructed in 2017-18 and about 80 children were provided for when it was functional.
Chattar says he agreed to donate land on the condition that one member of his family would be offered a job at the centre. He says for about five years, his daughter-in-law Phooljaan Bibi offered her services for free. “The BDO (Block Development Officer) told us that there will be no jobs. So, we decided to close the centre and put it under lock and key three years ago,” he says.
A few metres away is a health centre that is closed owing to a similar dispute. On its wall, the name of the man who donated the land, Mojjamel Sheikh, is inscribed in Bengali. The residents of Masaladanga say there have been several centres that have been closed because those who donated land wanted jobs in return.
Guha says the government “cannot barter with citizens (as far as jobs are concerned)”.
‘Important demands’
Subha Protim Roy Chowdhury, a social activist and researcher who worked extensively in enclaves in India and Bangladesh before the swap, says, “Land records and registration of property are important demands as the people have no valid documents before 2015.” He adds that what worries the people now is the drive across India to identify illegal Bangladeshi immigrants.
He notes that none of the 14,854 residents of the 51 enclaves located on Indian territory opted to relocate to Bangladesh when given the choice in 2015. In contrast, 922 individuals from the former Indian enclaves in Bangladesh chose to move to India. These individuals were initially housed in three camps in Dinhata, Haldibari, and Mekhliganj of Cooch Behar district.
Nearly five years later, the State government constructed three residential complexes consisting of two-bedroom apartments for these individuals. About 160 families were allocated apartments in three locations. However, despite being allocated these apartments, the residents have not been provided with documentation confirming their ownership of the properties.
Skills and migration
The blue and white paint typically used by the Trinamool Congress government is beginning to peel away at the Dinhata camp that houses 58 families. Several goats and cattle roam in the compound. Some of the apartments are closed as families have migrated for work. Pumpkin vines grow on a trellis and other vegetables are being cultivated between the two-storey buildings.
On a July afternoon, the apartment complex is mostly inhabited by men in their early 20s, who are either in college or have dropped out.
Mohammad Al Amin, 20, who dropped out of Dinhata College, does not remember much about life in the erstwhile Indian enclave in Bangladesh. The son of a farm worker, he is taking a course to help him land a data entry operator’s job.
Surya Barman, 22, a BA History student at a local college, says he is preparing for the government’s Group D examination, while Maksedul Mondal, 20, pursuing BA in Philosophy, is looking for some vocational training.
Abdul Hakim, 22, who has dropped out of college, has been a migrant worker in Delhi and Ghaziabad. The youth say there are no jobs and their families cannot support their education.
“We are all unemployed. There has been no skill training from the government. There is nobody to guide us. If nothing works out, then we will migrate for work,” Amin says.
While the youth may be thinking of migrating, several elders who migrated for work were detained on suspicion of being Bangladeshi nationals. The young men quip that their Indian nationality is being put to the test after 10 years.
Debobrata Chaki, a Cooch Behar-based writer, says, “Most of the people who moved here were farmers who had land. The flats have been difficult for them to live in.” She adds that the people were not consulted before the flats were built for them; nor was there any counselling. “So they feel there’s a gap in what they think was promised to them and what they got,” she says.
shivsahay.s@thehindu.co.in
edited by Sunalini Mathew