The gruesome murder of Indian journalist Mukesh Chandrakar has shone a spotlight on the dangers of reporting from some of the country’s most volatile regions.
Chandrakar’s body was found last week in a septic tank in a compound owned by a contractor he had implicated in a story about corruption in Chhattisgarh state. Police have arrested the contractor and two others in connection with the 33-year-old’s murder.
Chhattisgarh, a mineral-rich state, has witnessed an armed conflict for more than three decades and attacks by Maoist rebels on security forces are common. The Maoists, who are active in several Indian states, say they are fighting for communist rule and greater rights for tribal people and the rural poor.
Chandrakar’s killing was condemned by Indian media watchdogs. People who knew him commended his bravery and resilience, with many saying he cared deeply about people and would go to great lengths to report on an important story.
His death also sparked discussions about the challenges faced by independent reporters, often working as stringers or freelancers, in states like Chhattisgarh, where employment opportunities are few and the balance of power is constantly shifting between the state, insurgent groups and powerful mining corporations.
Chandrakar was born in Basaguda, a remote village in the state, and dabbled in odd jobs before he pivoted to journalism in his 20s.
His childhood was difficult; he lost his father when he was still a child and was raised by his mother, who worked hard to make ends meet. He also grew up in the shadow of violence as militia and rebel groups fought for power in the state.
To help support his family, he initially collected mahua flowers, which are used to make a liquor popular among tribespeople, and later worked in a garage.
His friend Ganesh Mishra told the BBC that Chandrakar discovered journalism through conversations with friends and began working as one in 2013. He learnt on the job, gleaning tips from fellow journalists, and gradually developed a passion for reporting.
He worked as a reporter with mainstream media outlets before launching his own YouTube channel, Bastar Junction. At the time of his death, the channel had around 165,000 subscribers, a number that has since grown by about 10,000.
Bastar is a hilly district in Chhattisgarh which is full of dense forests and is part of India’s ‘red corridor’, a nickname for the regions most affected by the Maoist insurgency.
Watching the videos, Chandrakar’s journalism comes across as slightly melodramatic and sometimes straying from the rigours of traditional reporting, such as not always giving all parties a right of reply. However, his videos highlighted stories frequently overlooked by mainstream media – reports of innocent villagers killed in crossfire between Maoist rebels and soldiers, or tribal men wrongfully accused of being insurgents and imprisoned by the police.
His channel captured the hardships faced by locals in Bastar’s remote villages, where even basic necessities are scarce.
One video showed villagers swimming across a river with groceries in tow due to the lack of a bridge; another documented a key road mined with explosives, allegedly planted by Maoists to target security forces. His stories gave locals a platform to voice their grievances and hold public officials accountable.
Chandrakar used to also work as a “stringer” for news organisations, where his job involved providing outstation journalists with information about a story or sometimes, even chaperoning them through Maoist strongholds.
Most media outlets pay such freelance reporters poorly, and despite doing much of the ground work, they often don’t receive proper recognition or a byline.
A journalist who Chandrakar helped cover a particularly sensitive story told the BBC about how he had helped him cross Maoists camps and police check-posts to access regions deep inside forests.
“It would have been impossible to access the terrain without him,” the person, who wanted to remain anonymous, said.
He described Chandrakar as a person who was passionate about new experiences, loved the chase and felt proud when his actions led to change.
“He was also a deeply aspirational person. He didn’t want to be defined by his difficult life; he wanted to rise above that,” he said.
It’s perhaps this trait of Chandrakar’s that has led to some speculation about the actual cause of his death. Police say that two of the people arrested for his murder are related to him, one of whom is a contractor.
There are whispers about Chandrakar’s lifestyle, which some colleagues found puzzling given the poor salaries of local journalists. In a tribute, his close friend and fellow journalist, Dipankar Ghose, acknowledged the complexities of working in a profession where survival often meant navigating difficult choices.
“For me, Mukesh was the personification of bravery. I’m not going to pretend that in a universe where media organisations he [Chandrakar] worked for didn’t even pay for his petrol let alone a stable salary, sustenance wasn’t a problem, and therefore some wires weren’t crossed. But Mukesh loved journalism with a passion,” he wrote as part of a lengthy post praising Chandrakar on X.
Manisha Pande, managing editor at Newslaundry, an independent news platform, speaks about the challenges facing journalists in many small towns and cities across the country.
“There are many passionate and even fearless young journalists who are the first to uncover and report stories from their regions. But as a profession, we haven’t figured out how to make journalism financially sustainable for them,” she says.
Chandrakar’s murder is still under investigation, and more details about his death are expected to emerge in the coming days. However, his work continues to serve as an inspiration to many.
“I have lost a friend who was like a family member and Bastar has lost a good journalist,” Mr Mishra says. “His journalism impacted many and so his loss is deeply felt deeply by all”.
*Some names in the story have been withheld on request.
