They are already calling it the “widow village.”
In the space of just a few short days, the close-knit community of Sangrampur in eastern India — along with a number of smaller surrounding villages — has been devastated by a case of mass poisoning from toxic, home-brewed alcohol.
So far 170 people have died, almost exclusively men, most of whom were the sole bread--winners in families that were already struggling with life on the poverty line.
“At the moment, it feels like all roads lead to the burial ground,” said Abdul Mannan Gayen, who lost two sons and has a third battling for his life in hospital along with more than 100 other critically ill villagers.
In India, disasters — fires, flood, earthquakes, epidemics — often take their heaviest toll among the poor, who live in the most vulnerable and densely packed communities in poorly constructed, makeshift homes.
However, the tragedy that struck the district around Sangrampur in West Bengal was particularly narrow and devastating in its focus.
Illegal, home-distilled liquor, or “hooch,” has been brewed in such places for decades, catering to an impoverished male clientele of laborers, farmers and rickshaw drivers unable to afford branded alcohol.
On Tuesday evening, the half-liter measures of hooch — costing as little as US$0.10 — were drunk and shared as they are most evenings.
By Wednesday morning, local hospitals were already struggling with the chronically sick and dying and the next few days saw the death toll rise inexorably from 50 to 100, to 150 and beyond.
Those who died died painfully, wracked by cramps, vomiting and diarrhea.
They leave behind wives and children who now face a perilous future.
“We’re ruined,” said Roserana Naskar, whose normally teetotaler husband died on Wednesday after drinking from the toxic batch of methanol-laced alcohol at the home of a relative who was -celebrating the birth of his second son.
“We have nothing now. Just our home and I don’t know how we can keep that,” said Naskar, who has four young children.
Jhunu Bibi, a 30-year-old mother of four, broke down as she contemplated life after the death of her husband, whose body was brought home from the hospital on Friday evening.
“I don’t know what to do. I have to carry on because of the children. How do I feed them?” she said.
Newly married and now widowed Anwara Bibi, 23, said that she had no choice but to return to her father’s house just months since she left it to start a new life with her husband, a tailor.
“My life has been taken away,” she said.
In the district’s largest hospital, in the town of Diamond Harbour, bodies were being laid outside on Saturday, with the facility’s small morgue unable to cope with the number of dead.
“We’re helpless,” hospital superintendent Chiranjib Murmu said.
“This stuff is so toxic, there’s really no treatment,” he said.
“By the time people get here, they are already dying. They don’t respond to any medicine,” he said.
Days after the poisoning first surfaced, the sick were still being brought in, going the -opposite way to hospital rickshaws and even horse-drawn carts ferrying bodies back to their home villages.
Amid the grief, there was also intense anger.
On Friday evening, a crowd ransacked the house of one man who was allegedly in control of a string of illegal distilleries in the area.