The usually solemn halls of Lok Bhavan were heavy with emotion on Saturday as Jammu and Kashmir Lieutenant Governor Manoj Sinha handed over appointment letters to families of terror victims—an act that marked the end of decades-long waits for justice for many.
For some families, this moment came after nearly three decades of silent suffering, during which their pain remained invisible while those sympathetic to terror found space within the system. On Saturday, long-suppressed grief finally found acknowledgment.
As the appointment letters were distributed, tears flowed freely. These were not mere official documents. Each letter symbolised a life shattered by terrorism, a family robbed of its breadwinner, and children forced to grow up too soon—without the warmth, security, and guidance of a parent.
Pakeeza Riyaz was only a child when terrorists killed her father, Riyaz Ahmed Mir, in 1999. For 25 years, she carried the weight of that loss—memories of a childhood abruptly stolen. Holding her appointment letter, Pakeeza spoke not just of employment, but of dignity regained. "This letter recognises our pain," she said softly.
For Shaista, whose father Abdul Rashid Ganai was murdered in 2000, life thereafter became a relentless struggle against poverty, social stigma, and an imposed silence. Her family learned to grieve quietly, abandoned by a system that never came to their aid.
One of the most heart-wrenching stories was that of Rozy Jan, who lost both her father and grandfather to terrorism. Her father, Fayaz Ahmed Ganie, and grandfather, Dilawar Ganie, were kidnapped and killed by terrorists outside their home in Qazigund, Anantnag district, on February 4, 2000.
In a single day, Rozy lost the two pillars of her life—two generations of support and guidance. The family home, which once echoed with inter-generational warmth, suddenly turned into a place marked by silence, grief, and fear.
This double tragedy was not only an emotional devastation but also a financial catastrophe. Both Dilawar and Fayaz were the primary earning members of the family. Their sudden and violent deaths left the household without a stable source of income.
Pushed into an immediate financial crisis, the family struggled to meet basic necessities and faced an uncertain future without the security the deceased had worked tirelessly to provide. Rozy finally received her appointment letter after more than 25 years.
A similar story is that of Ishtiyaq Ahmad, who lost his father 19 years ago. Though still young, he was old enough to comprehend the irreparable loss when his father, BSF braveheart Altaf Hussain, laid down his life in a terrorist encounter.
The family of Abdul Aziz Dar waited 30 long years—three decades of unanswered questions, silent prayers, and fading hope—before justice finally knocked on their door.
Addressing the gathering, Lieutenant Governor Manoj Sinha acknowledged the deep injustice endured by these families.
"For these families, the long wait for justice has finally ended. Through concrete rehabilitation measures, we have restored their dignity and faith in the system," he said.
The families spoke of a double tragedy—first, the brutal loss of their loved ones to terrorism, and second, the years of institutional neglect that followed. While those linked to the terror ecosystem found patronage and positions, the real victims were left to survive alone, unheard and unseen.
Saturday's ceremony, however, marked a turning point. It was not just about employment—it was about recognition, respect, and redemption. For families long buried under grief, the appointment letters symbolised a promise finally kept and a system that, after decades, chose to listen.
