Prisoners on their own land

A motley collection of tents are grouped together just outside the village of Rudangia, in the hills of the Indian state of Orissa. A few words with the armed soldiers at the entrance to the encampment allow us to pay a short visit. We have just driven a bone-shaking 3½ hours through the Indian countryside to arrive here, at the edge of the area where the worst case of religious cleansing India has ever known took place during the months of August and September last year.

We are ushered into a small open-sided shelter, and as we sit on the floor, we are quickly surrounded by the local tribal population. A young man who speaks Hindi shares the story of the village. They knew of the violence raging around them and had organised lookouts to warn if attacks were coming. However, nobody could cope when the Hindu extremists arrived. During the night of 29 September, the lookouts reported 300 torches descending on the village from all directions. They were surrounded and all chance of escape was impossible.

Within 30 minutes the Hindus had set fire to 74 houses. They came with axes, machetes and homemade guns, yet the villagers only had sticks to defend themselves with. Our young interpreter told us that during the havoc, one of the Hindus came to him and asked, "So which one should I kill now?" One woman lost her life and 12 people had to be hospitalised, one with 17 bullets in his body.

The 230 families living in Rudangia are among the 50,000 Indian Christians who lost their homes during the orgy of violence orchestrated by Hindutva activists following the death of a Hindu leader, assassinated by local Maoists.

While government reports state otherwise, the local believers report that over 500 lost their lives and hundreds of churches were burned. Today the survivors are grouped in hundreds of tent encampments throughout the region.

What makes Rudangia special is that the Christian community refused to move to a camp far from home and insisted on being able to return to an encampment on their own land. The spiritual life here is palpable. The three denominations, Catholic, Baptist and Church of North India, have decided to join together and worship in the only church with a roof that is still standing. Persecution has brought the Christians together.

We are taken to the church where there is already a worship service in progress – women and children on one side, men on the other. Many have Bibles as they sit on the floor and listen to a preacher.

The joy of Christian worship cannot cover the despair and hopelessness of an impossible situation. These people are prisoners on their own land. A man shows me the edge of a neighbouring Hindu village. "Look, this is our border, like the border between Pakistan and India," he says. I can understand the illustration – two communities in confrontation, fraught with violence and suspicion.

Open Doors' long-term goal is to meet the basic needs of the victims of persecution by providing food, clothing, medical care and spiritual healing, so that they will eventually be able to return to a normal life.