Kochi: “Even if there is a small sound at night, we wake up in fear thinking people have come to demolish our homes. We cannot sleep anymore,” says 71-year-old Thankamma, her voice trembling as she sits in the courtyard of her house near the protest shed at Malayidom Thuruth near Kizhakkambalam. She belongs to one of the seven Dalit families facing eviction from their homes.

For the past several nights, sleep has almost disappeared from this small settlement in Ernakulam district. The seven Scheduled Caste families living here say they are trapped between a Supreme Court eviction order and the terrifying uncertainty of what comes next.

Just days ago, the colony witnessed chaotic scenes as nearly 400 policemen arrived to enforce the court-ordered eviction from the disputed land. Women wailed, elderly men collapsed, children ran in fear and some residents even threatened mass suicide. The confrontation eventually forced the newly sworn-in UDF government to step in and temporarily halt the proceedings amid fears of a major tragedy.

On Friday, the government announced that it would directly approach the High Court seeking relief for the families and also assured a fair rehabilitation package if it fails. But inside the colony, that announcement has brought only temporary relief, not peace. Because for the families here, the fear goes far beyond losing a few houses.

Scattered across the narrow pathways of the colony are small shrines, ancestral burial spots, a Sarpakavu where serpent deities are worshipped, fruit trees planted decades ago and tiny homes built slowly through years of daily wage labour. For the residents, this is not merely disputed property. It is their entire world.

“This is the soil where we were born and raised,” says Sudha, a resident of the colony. “Our parents and grandparents are buried here. We have nowhere else to go. If we are forced out, where do we take our children, our sick people, our memories?”

Many residents repeatedly point towards small corners of land while speaking – a jackfruit tree planted by a grandfather, a sacred concrete platform where lamps are lit every evening, a pathway built collectively by the families over decades.

“We worked hard to make this place livable,” says Mini, who survives through cleaning jobs and daily wage work. “Earlier this was thick jungle land where nobody would even enter. We cleared it, cultivated it and built homes here. Now they are saying we should just leave,” she said while rubbing the bulge on her forehead caused amid the police action. The dispute itself stretches back nearly six decades.

The land, spread across the Malayidomthuruth area, became the centre of prolonged litigation between the descendants of local landlord Malayidomthuruth Kannoth Sankaran Nair and the descendants of Kalu Karumban, a Dalit agricultural worker whose family had been living and cultivating on portions of the land for generations.

The residents insist the land is Poramboke land and say their ancestors had occupied and cultivated it long before modern land records became central to ownership disputes. Many among the older generation were illiterate agricultural labourers with little understanding of legal procedures.

Ayyappan, among the oldest residents still actively involved in the case, recalls how his father struggled to navigate the legal system.

“My father did not know how to read or write. We believed we would eventually receive pattayam for the land. We trusted lawyers and gave whatever money we could, but later we realised we had lost the case,” he said.

Several residents now allege that financial hardships and legal negligence contributed to their defeat. Some even accuse former lawyers of failing to properly defend their case.

“For generations we survived through coolie work and daily wage labour. The other side had money and influence. We did not even know for years that the verdict had gone against us,” said PT Saji, another resident.

Four years ago, the Supreme Court ruled in favour of the private claimants and ordered the eviction of occupants from the disputed portion measuring around 2.65 acres. Since then, the Advocate Commission has attempted to execute the eviction order multiple times, but resistance from residents and local CPM leaders repeatedly stalled the process. The fifteenth attempt, however, turned violent.

Residents allege that police officers dragged women, assaulted elderly residents and used water cannons and force to disperse protestors. The police have maintained that force became necessary after protestors obstructed court-directed proceedings and some threatened self-harm.

Mini still struggles to speak while recalling the confrontation. “They sprayed water mixed with foam into our eyes. Children were screaming. The police dragged us over stones and twisted our hands. My daughter’s leg was stepped on with boots,” she said.

Sudha alleged that her elderly uncle, a heart patient recovering from multiple surgeries, was manhandled by police during the clashes. “He collapsed struggling to breathe. We begged them not to touch him because he was very sick,” she said.

Whether every allegation can be independently verified or not, one thing is unmistakable inside the colony, the deep psychological fear now hanging over the residents. Children who witnessed the confrontation continue to remain frightened.

Sixteen-year-old Ashwanand said many children ran towards the canal in panic when police entered the colony. “Everyone was scared. Water was sprayed everywhere. My mother became breathless and had to be taken to hospital,” he said.

Many residents now avoid leaving their homes unattended. Others said they wake up repeatedly at night fearing another sudden police deployment. Thankamma, who suffered a stroke five years ago, says she has spent nearly 965 days participating in the ongoing protest sit-in against the eviction.

“We sit there every evening because we are afraid. Now even at night we cannot sleep peacefully. If there is any sound outside, we think people have come to demolish the house,” she said.

The issue has meanwhile rapidly transformed into a major political flashpoint. The CPM, still recovering from its humiliating defeat in the Assembly elections, has aggressively stepped into the agitation, accusing the new UDF government of targeting Dalit families and attempting forced displacement without rehabilitation. Former MLA PV Sreenijin has emerged as one of the most visible faces of the protest, while senior CPM leaders including former ministers P Rajeev and R Bindu have also reached the colony in solidarity.

For the Satheesan government, the situation has become an early political test involving caste sensitivities, court directives and public perception.

But beyond the politics and legal arguments, what remains inside Malayidomthuruth is a quieter, deeply human fear. The residents here know the court order still stands. They know the boots will return. And many said they genuinely do not know what their future looks like anymore.

“We are not staying on somebody’s estate after entering yesterday. This is the only life and home we know. We were born here, lived here, and we will die here,” said Sudha, looking toward the houses lined along the narrow mud path.