Mothabari: “Have you come to enlist our names? Will we be allowed to vote?” — this question echoed across the village as hundreds of disenfranchised residents surrounded reporters on polling day.
Just weeks ago, this otherwise quiet pocket in Malda drew national attention after angry locals held judicial magistrates hostage for hours over alleged voter deletions. Since then, the area has seen an National Investigation Agency probe, multiple arrests, deployment of central forces, and an escalating political blame game.
But on polling day, one issue overshadowed everything else: SIR — and the question of who gets to vote.
“Is this democracy?”
Matiur Rahman from Alinagar said his name, along with two family members, was removed from the electoral roll despite submitting documents ranging from school certificates to postgraduate records.
“Others are voting. We aren’t even allowed on the roads today. Is this democracy?” he asked.
In Sardarpara, women like Manju Biwi, Asima Khatun and Chandni Khatun clutched their EPIC cards, questioning why documents that allowed them to vote in previous elections — including 2024 — were suddenly deemed invalid.
“We stood in queues for months, attended hearings, submitted papers. Now we can only watch,” they said, urging authorities to restore their voting rights.
Confusion and frustration
For 60-year-old Dilip Sk of Mahaldartola, the situation defied logic. While his son’s name remained on the rolls, his own was deleted.
“If my name isn’t there, how is my son’s?” he asked, noting that his name existed in earlier electoral rolls that enabled his children’s registration.
Migrant workers returning from cities like Hyderabad and Mumbai faced similar disappointment. Many had travelled back specifically for hearings and voting, fearing their absence might affect their citizenship status.
“I came twice in a month for hearings. Still, my name is gone,” said one such worker, who had returned again hoping for last-minute clearance.
A muted election day
Even among those who voted, there was little sense of celebration. Families were divided between those eligible and those excluded.
“How can we feel happy when some of us couldn’t vote?” asked one resident. Another described the day as “a black day for democracy.”
The impact was visible at polling stations. Several booths recorded sharply reduced voter lists — in some cases nearly halved — leading to sparse queues and an unusually subdued atmosphere.
Yet, among those whose names remained, turnout was high. By evening, Mothabari recorded one of the highest polling percentages in the district, with over 90% of eligible voters casting their ballots.
