VASCO
The quiet lanes of Baina still carry the echo of a night that has unsettled an entire neighbourhood.
For 60-year-old businessman Sagar Nayak, the victim of the brutal armed dacoity that shook Chamundi Arcade, recovery has been more than a medical process — it has been an emotional struggle.
On Thursday, Nayak was discharged from the Goa Medical College and Hospital, but even as he walked out of the ward on his own strength, the weight of that night remained heavy in his eyes.
At his brother’s residence on the first floor of the same building — where he has temporarily shifted — the usually calm and reserved Nayak spoke to The Goan, revisiting every haunting detail.
His sixth-floor flat, once a familiar space, has turned into a site of trauma.
“I feel scared to go to my own house now,” he said quietly. “I don’t feel like going back and my daughters are also scared. The blood stains on the walls, the ransacked cupboards — everything will bring back the memories of the darkest night of my life,” he added.
The decision to stay at his brother’s home wasn’t temporary escape — it was self-preservation.
MOMENTS OF TERROR
The incident has already entered Baina’s memory as one of the most shocking crimes in recent years: a gang of seven storming into a private residence, tying the victim, assaulting him with iron rods, and leaving him grievously injured. But Nayak’s retelling adds layers that only a survivor can articulate.
“I had seen the dacoits at the basement while I was tied up in the gallery balcony,” he recalled. It was the chilling realisation that the attackers were still close — just moments after they had left him wounded — that deepens his fear even today.
The police, he acknowledges, reacted swiftly. “The police did a fantastic job and reached the site in quick time. While the first PCR arrived, two more PCRs joined them within minutes,” he said.
But what followed troubles him even now. While the officers focused on checking the flat, gathering details, and scanning for CCTV footage, the dacoits slipped away.
“I was not in a position to tell them that the dacoits had just left. The cops also did not think of it. But I wish one of the three PCRs had gone for a patrolling round — these dacoits would have been caught the same night,” Nayak reflected, without accusation, only regret.
His tone is measured, not hostile. “It is not the fault of the police,” he emphasised. “The situation was such that neither my family nor the police knew how to react at that moment.” The confusion of the night, he believes, created a gap that the attackers exploited.
PLEA FOR STRONGER POLICING
From his hospital bed to his temporary refuge downstairs, one thought has occupied Nayak’s mind — the need for stronger patrolling in the city.
“When I was working at Mormugao Port, I remember the police used to conduct extremely strict patrolling. They would check everyone moving at night. I was asked several times to show my ID card when returning late from work,” he said.
To him, that visible, assertive policing created a sense of safety. Today, even though the city has barricades and patrol units, he feels something is missing.
“There is a need for more intensity. Every minute detail must be checked during night patrolling. With proper surveillance, people who roam suspiciously at odd hours will think twice,” he said, calling for a revival of a culture of deterrence.
His appeal is not merely personal — it is echoed by residents across Baina, who now experience fear in places that once felt familiar.
SECURITY SYSTEMS VS SMARTER CRIMINALS
Chamundi Arcade is no stranger to modern security. With CCTV cameras covering every corner, gates, and digital monitoring, the building reflects the new wave of residential security. Yet, Nayak’s words pierce through that veneer of assurance.
“We have state-of-the-art night vision cameras all over the premises. I even installed a new road-facing camera recently,” he said. But the attackers, he believes, came prepared.
“Dacoits and burglars have become smarter. They use advanced tools that can break grills and doors without noise in just minutes.”
His experience has turned into an unintended lesson on evolving crime techniques.
“People need to secure all vulnerable spots and install alarms or sirens. Technology is important, but criminals today study every loophole,” he added.
WHY OLD SOLUTIONS STILL MATTER
While cameras, sensors, and security systems fill brochures and advertisements, Nayak shared a suggestion rooted in age-old wisdom: dogs.
“Sometimes we have watchmen, but they are human — they can fall asleep. We need more dogs in residential buildings,” he said. Dogs, he explained, remain alert, sense movement more sharply, and bark loudly when strangers approach. “They act as natural alarms. Their presence itself discourages criminals.”
It is a simple, almost traditional recommendation, yet delivered with the sincerity of someone who has lived through the unthinkable.
THE ROAD AHEAD
As Sagar Nayak continues to heal, the community around him is awakening to hard questions about urban safety. The attack didn’t just leave one man injured — it left an entire locality shaken.
People who once walked confidently now pause before entering lifts, double-check door latches, and scan the corridors before stepping out.
In Nayak’s story lies the larger story of Baina’s fear — a fear not of shadows or imagination, but of seven real men still roaming free.
His resilience, however, is unmistakable. The injuries may fade, but his warnings, his pleas, and his reflections now carry the weight of lived experience. And through his words, one message is unmistakable:
Baina needs stronger policing, smarter security, and a community that refuses to be caught off-guard again.
