For decades, the pain of terror victims in Kashmir remained invisible—not because it was unknown, but because it was ignored. Families shattered by terrorism were forced to wait not months, not years, but decades for what should have been delivered immediately: justice, dignity, and rehabilitation. Homes once filled with warmth became spaces of silence, where widows raised children alone, and children grew up learning survival long before they learned hope.
That long wait found a measure of recognition on Saturday when Lieutenant Governor Manoj Sinha handed over appointment letters to 39 next of kin of terror victims from the Kashmir Division. The ceremony, held at Lok Bhavan in Srinagar, marked a significant step towards long-delayed rehabilitation for families scarred by decades of violence. For many present, it was not merely an employment opportunity—it was an acknowledgment that their suffering had finally been seen.
The gathering brought together families who have lived for years with loss, trauma, and economic uncertainty after their loved ones were brutally killed by terrorists. Some shared harrowing accounts of violence and the quiet endurance that followed—years marked by stigma, fear, and financial hardship, often without institutional support. Behind every killing, the Lieutenant Governor noted, lay a household that never fully recovered and children who grew up without parents.
For several families, the moment symbolised the end of a decades-long wait. Pakeeza Riyaz of Anantnag, whose father Riyaz Ahmed Mir was killed in 1999, and Shaista of Hyderpora in Srinagar, whose father Abdul Rashid Ganai was murdered in 2000, received government job letters that finally brought a degree of economic stability. Ishtiyaq Ahmad, son of BSF braveheart Altaf Hussain—killed nearly 19 years ago in a terrorist encounter—was also appointed to a government post, offering renewed support to a family that has carried the burden of sacrifice for nearly two decades.
Justice, too, reached the family of Dilawar Ganie and his son Fayaz Ganie of Qazigund, who were brutally killed on February 4, 2000. Fayaz’s daughter Fozy lost both her father and grandfather in a single day. For 25 years, the family lived with fear and grief in a home once filled with warmth, now marked by silence. Saturday’s appointment did not erase that loss—but it restored dignity long denied.
Yet even as these steps are welcomed, they raise an uncomfortable and necessary question: why did it take so long?
Successive regimes failed terror victims at nearly every level. After the killings, there was often silence from the system—no urgency, no prioritisation, no sustained effort to rehabilitate families who had lost their breadwinners. Cases gathered dust in government files while widows struggled alone, children dropped out of school, and families slipped into poverty. This was not a failure of resources. It was a failure of intent.
At a time when terrorism was recognised as a national security challenge, its human cost was pushed to the margins. Shockingly, while families of victims waited for relief, elements linked to the terror ecosystem found space, influence, and at times even patronage. The real victims were left to fend for themselves. Justice delayed was not merely justice denied—it was injustice multiplied. Each year of delay meant lost education, lost opportunities, and deep psychological scars that no policy can fully heal.
The Lieutenant Governor acknowledged this historical failure, noting that after the abrogation of Article 370, terror victim families have found the confidence to speak out against the terror ecosystem, ending years of enforced silence. He said the administration is now focused on amplifying victims’ voices, restoring their rights, and ensuring swift and fair justice for perpetrators. Fighting terrorism, he emphasised, is a collective societal responsibility requiring resolve and unity.
Beyond job appointments, the administration has extended rehabilitation measures to a wider group of victims. Appointment letters were also issued under the Compassionate Appointment Rules (SRO-43) and the Rehabilitation Assistance Scheme. A total of 156 family members of terror victims have been provided self-employment opportunities through schemes such as Mission Yuva, the Holistic Agriculture Development Programme, and the Prime Minister’s Employment Generation Programme. Additionally, encroachments have been removed from properties belonging to terror victim families, and dozens of families have been identified for house reconstruction.
These measures mark progress—but they cannot erase years of neglect. Rehabilitation is not charity; it is the state’s obligation. Terror victims should never have had to fight the system to prove their worth or their pain. A state that fails to stand with victims risks emboldening perpetrators and deepening public mistrust.
As a society, this moment must be one of reflection rather than self-congratulation. The real lesson is clear: when victims are ignored, justice collapses. And when justice collapses, the wounds of conflict deepen. The families who waited decades did not just lose loved ones—they lost time, security, and faith.
Ensuring that such neglect is never repeated is the true test of governance—and the only way to honour those who suffered in silence for far too long.
