Term over, not 'punishment'

There were three Ripons in the same friend circle. That's why one of them was given the nickname Sipon. That name, affectionately tossed out, cost the man 16 years of his life, following a murder in the Old Dhaka area where he used to reside with his family.

The suspected murderer was someone else named Sipon, said Shakila, Sipon's younger sister. Her brother was found not guilty by a lower court in a quick wrap-up of the trial after the High Court had issued an order to dispose of the case in two months.

The verdict, however, came 16 years later and by then, the Sipon his family once knew had changed.

Since his release from Kashimpur Central Jail one and a half years ago, the man, now in his mid-forties, talks little to his sisters and mother, with whom he shares a room on the fifth floor of a building at Demra in the capital. Most of his time is spent sitting at the entrance of an alley and watching vehicles go by, Shakila told The Daily Star during a visit on May 5.

The family seems does not know what the future will have in store for Sipon. “We are giving him food and shelter. But the government should come forward and support him. He suffered so much… through no fault of his own,” Sipon's widowed elder sister Ferdous said.

Sipon's case is not a solitary one.

At least four -- including Sipon -- of 69 murder accused listed by the Supreme Court Legal Aid (SCLA) office as being imprisoned for over a decade were acquitted by lower courts in 2016 and 2017.

The HC then examined lower court records and held hearings on cases -- which hadn't progressed for a long time -- in suo moto rules and finally granted bail to 18 prisoners. At the same time, the lower courts dealing with the murder cases were instructed to complete the trial procedure in between two to six months.

However, for many, reintegrating into society has become as difficult as serving the sentence.

WHY REHABILITATION IS NECESSARY

An HC order this April drew the government's attention to the need for rehabilitation of prisoners “who are being released from jail after long time, [and who then] find themselves in a dire situation”. 

Following a petition in a trafficking case, the HC bench of Justice M Enayetur Rahim and Justice Shahidul Karim granted bail to a petitioner, one Monowara Begum alias Motahara Begum alias Khurshida Begum, almost two decades after she was taken into custody.

She could not file a bail appeal with the HC earlier due to lack of funds.

The grounds for the bail were that she had already served a substantial portion of her sentence and that there was “no legal evidence to sustain the conviction”, as said in the order.

The deputy commissioner and the district social welfare officer of Cox's Bazar, where the trafficking case had been filed, were asked to provide Monowara with “all kinds of assistance” needed to reintegrate her into society. 

When contacted in the second week of May, both the DC office and the social welfare office claimed the court order hadn't reached them yet.

IS THE GOVT BOUND BY LAW?

The matter of rehabilitating prisoners after their release brings forth the question as to whether the authority is obliged to do so.

In this regard, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, which Bangladesh is a party to but hasn't signed, says the country does not have any system in place to ensure social rehabilitation of prisoners “on account of financial constraints and for lack of proper logistics support.”

The global treaty binds the signatory nations to provide compensation to “victims of miscarriage of justice”, said Supreme Court lawyer Kawser Ahmed.

Bangladesh accepts the principle of compensation though but “is not in a position to guarantee a comprehensive implementation of the provision for the time being”, as said in the documentation of the UN agreement.

However, those aggrieved have the right to realise compensation through separate proceedings, and in some cases, the court through suo moto ruling can grant compensations to victims, it added.

However, how much compensation should amount to is left to the court.

In Sipon's case, the HC issued a suo moto rule in November 2016 granting him bail. In the order, it said, “failure to conduct the trial within 16 years is shameful for the State as well as [for] the judiciary.”

During the trial, only two prosecution witnesses -- the murder victim's brother and the first investigation officer-- had been examined but nothing emerged from their statements linking Sipon to the murder.

THE COST OF FREEDOM

According to the law, Sipon was allowed to seek bail from the lower court, and if rejected, he could pray to the HC for bail. But as said in a suo moto rule, he didn't have the financial means, just like Monowara Begum, to appoint a lawyer and had no communication with his parents and other relatives.

His sister Shakila said their mother Fazilatunnesa had once gone to meet Sipon in jail but “he didn't even recognise her”. Afterwards, none of the family tried to visit him fearing that they would also be detained if he failed to recognise them.

The murder that Sipon was accused of is a non-bailable offence, said SC lawyer Kawser over the phone, but the possibility of getting bail increases if investigation fails to uncover any concrete findings.

The lower court rejects bail to an accused when it considers that the likelihood of his culpability is high. And the HC usually grants bail to the accused undergoing trial for more than four-five years.

But since the offence is non-bailable, the court is not supposed to grant bail voluntarily; the accused or his family has to appeal for it and they have to appoint a lawyer for that, Kawser added.

On behalf of the accused Sipon, the legal aid office in Dhaka executed the bail bond as directed by the HC in 2016.

After his release, the Kashimpur jail authority made him take a bus and gave him Tk 200.

“He could remember the area but not the house. He wandered around the place until after midnight and then we found him [on being informed of his release],” Shakila says.

During this correspondent's meeting with Sipon, he sat quietly, staring out of a window.

Asked what he wanted to do now, he kept staring into the distance. His mother drew herself close to him, and rubbed his shoulders. “He hasn't long called me Ma [mother],” said Fazilatunnesa, Sipon's mother, as her eyes welled up.