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Series to tragedies

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Series to tragedies
By No Author
Wrongly accused in the murder and rape case of Yasuko Watanabe, a 39-year old Japanese woman, Govind Mainali was sentenced to life imprisonment by Tokyo High Court. Working in a restaurant at the time of his arrest, Mainali spent 15 years of his life in Japanese prison before he was acquitted of all charges in light of additional evidences that proved his innocence. After returning home from the ordeal in the foreign land, Mainali has written an autobiography detailing the series of events and his hardship in the Japanese prison. His book ‘Paribanda ma 15 Barsa’ (Trapped for 15 years) is due release next week.

Co-authored by Devendra Bhattarai, The Week presents an excerpt from his book:




Since November 1996, we had changed our jobs and had started living in room number 401 at Khasia Building. The building located at the Shibuya Ward of Tokyo was close to Shinsen Railway Station.[break]



While renting the room at the building, I recall an incident. I was accompanied by my friends Narendra and Urmila Didi when we first came to inspect the room before leasing it. Ozaki, the owner of the building, had handed us the key through Maruee, the manager of Kantipur Restaurant. But when we reached the building, we realized that we had the wrong key.



Narendra decided that he wasn’t going back without looking inside, so he threw a stone at the latch to open the door. During the incident, his hand was badly hurt by some broken glass pieces and was completely covered in blood. I clearly remember, from that day on, I started having bad dreams.



Ozaki had been very helpful while we were looking for rooms. Indra Dai, a Nepali acquaintance, had known him for a long time, and Ozaki used to rent out his vacant apartments to Nepalis. After having the apartment, I was assigned to collect monthly rents from other tenants in the building. So we were charged less for our room than others.



Urmila Didi, Ramesh Thapa, Narendra Khadka, Madan Thapa, Lila Rayamajhi, and Bhim Rawal who lived together with me in the building were my friends in the foreign land. After a few days of settling down in the building, Urmila Didi left for Nepal. The rest of us carried on with our busy lives.

One day, at around 10 pm, I was heading home after finishing my day’s work at Maharaja Restaurant in Chiba Prefecture. While I was walking nearby Shinsen Station, I spotted a girl standing next to a love hotel. She bent her head and gestured at me. When I reached near, she asked, “Do you want to have sex? Ten thousand Yen for one time.”



Back then, I wasn’t very good with the Japanese language, but I figured out what she was suggesting. “Five thousand Yen,” I bargained.



Generally, when a customer and sex worker agree on a certain amount, they go to the nearby love hotel. But I coaxed her in to going to my apartment. When I reached the apartment, Ramesh and Lila were there. That night, I did something for the first time which I had never imagined before in my life.



A few nights later, the same girl came to my apartment by herself. I told her not to come again. I was scared that Urmila Didi will know about all this. After all, the room that we were using for sex was hers. Though Urmila Didi had left for Nepal, I was concerned about how she would react if she came to know that I was bringing in strange women home.



Apart from these incidents, life was going on as usual. Due to very busy schedules from early morning till late at night, we didn’t have much time for any leisurely distraction. So when I met the girl, it was an outlet to unwind for a short while.



It was February when the news of Urmila Didi’s return reached us. After that, my friends who were occupying the space in my apartment in her absence asked me to help them find another apartment. While asking around for vacant flats, I came to know that Ozaki owned another apartment in the adjoining Khijuso Building. So we went to Kantipur Restaurant to get the key to flat number 101.



The flat was big but the monthly rent which was 10,000 Yen was a bit expensive. So my friends decided not take it. After looking around for a while, we exited the flat. But since it was empty and unoccupied, we thought it wasn’t necessary to lock the main door. So we just shut it.



The next day, on February 10 or 12, late at night after work, I met the same girl outside the same love hotel. She gestured at me again and I was also willing. We could have rented a room at the nearby love hotel but these cheap hotels weren’t very good with hygiene. Street sex workers did not mind getting the job done in dark alleys or on parking lots.



But I neither wanted to go to the love hotel nor any public places. I still had the key to room number 101, so I took her to that empty flat.



At around 11 pm, we reached the flat. All the windows were open and there was enough light from the street to settle in. After all, you don’t need that much light for sex. As soon as we finished, she started putting on her clothes in a hurry. I guess she was in a rush for two reasons. The first being the type of clothes she was wearing. I figured that women’s clothes were more complicated than that of men. And she was also worried that she may miss the last midnight train from Shinsen Station. She took five thousand Yen from me and walked out of the flat. I had asked her to shut the door on her way out and said, “Oyasuminasai” (Goodnight).



To which she replied, “Hai hai, wakarimashita” (Alright, I got it).



It was a cold winter night. After all the day’s work, I used to take time to relax in hot bath after I reached my apartment. Without hot bath, it was very difficult to go to work the next day. So I rushed home before it was too late. I had to have my dinner as well, Tandoori Chicken and Nan, which I used to bring home every night before I left Maharaja Restaurant.



The next time I met the girl was on February 28. I was heading home on my usual time. Everything else occurred like earlier times and I took her to the same empty flat.



But I also remember an unusual incident that day. An Indian cook by the name of Hasim used to work at Maharaja Restaurant. He lent money to people and charged interest on it. That very day, he was paid his salary and handed me 10,000 Yen to invest. When I picked up the girl, I had that money with me.



After the sexual intercourse, I was supposed to pay 5,000 Yen to the girl. But I had no change that day. I asked her if she had change so that I could pay her with the 10,000 Yen bill. But she too had no change. So I paid her 2,000 Yen and said, “I’ll give you the rest of the money in our next meeting.”



After she was gone, I disposed of the condom in the toilet commode.. But it didn’t flush even after many attempts. So I decided to let it be.



After leaving the flat, I had to turn right to get home while the girl had to take to the left to get to Shinsen Station. After a couple of sexual stints with her, the girl had known that the empty flat was never locked. She had seen me pushing the door to the flat without using any keys. I had already guessed that she brought other customers to the flat. This place was a safe shelter for her. Sometimes, it was difficult to book rooms in love hotels and parks were not very safe for sex, so it was obvious that she had been utilizing this space very well. I was more aware of this when I was cornered in the criminal case later.



Talking about that girl, she was thin – not very attractive. I met her only after dark, so I don’t even remember her face clearly. Other details about her, like she was also an office lady, were known to me much later. One thing I knew for sure was that “call girls” like her changed their appearances very often. When I met her, her hairstyle was never the same. She used different wigs, which I got to know later.



I used to meet her often but it wasn’t for love or companionship. These were only a medium to vent out my loneliness.



Many days had passed by since then. Then suddenly, on March 19, 1997 when I was returning home from work on the usual time, I noticed many police vans near my apartment. Right below the building were police cars, their pilot lamps glowing in the dark. I saw the police investigating and asking around among some locals. First, I thought perhaps it was some case of domestic fight at this late hour. So I bought takeaway tea from a nearby shop and walked to my room. As I was entering my room, the policemen approached me.



“Who lives here? What do you do? Since when did you live here? How many of you are here? Where is your passport? Do you have visa?”

The policemen asked us questions like these. I calmly answered them all. But I was very curious about their questions. But we weren’t told anything.



I told them that I didn’t have my passport with me and I thought I would get in trouble for this. But the police didn’t take any immediate actions though they informed me that they would be back.



After they left, we panicked. When Narendra and Lila were back from their work, we discussed the matter. We called Urmila Didi in Kathmandu and asked for her advice.



“Avoid the flat for a while. Find other places to live,” she said. And so we did.



Before I left the room, I put the pictures of my wife Radha and mother Chandrakala in my coat pocket. Madan and Ramesh left for their friend’s place. Narendra, Lila and I went to a Newar friend of Lila’s. Narendra came to know that we could rent a place at Weekly Mansion in Nishikawa Town by depositing 160,000 Yen. We went there and deposited the money and our passports.



On March 21, Narendra came home with bad news, “The police are still looking for us.”



Then we sensed that it was more than a case of ‘overstay’ or visa violation. We also came to know that a girl was murdered in room 101 of Khijuso Building. And since we had the key to the apartment, the police were looking for us. But I had already handed away the key with two months’ rent for my apartment. I had requested Lila to give it to Maruee, the manager of Kantipur Restaurant.



We decided to leave Weekly Mansion and also decided to surrender. We went to Kantipur Restaurant and discussed everything with Maruee. Then, on our request, he called for cops. Not very long after that, a group of policemen arrived at the restaurant in civil uniform but in blazing siren cars. Narendra, Ramesh and I went with the police. They took us to Shibuya Police Station and held us in separate cells. The cells were pretty small, like matchboxes.



After I was detained in the cell, I didn’t know the whereabouts of my friends. I was not even told if they were still present in the police station. They ordered me to strip my down jacket, pants and all the other clothes. I was given a thin tracksuit and a plastic slipper. As soon as I changed, they took me to a room to take my statement.



There, a police officer placed a photograph of a woman in short hair in front of me and asked, “Do you know her? Why did you murder her?”



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