For India’s women, a time of heartbreak, horror, and betrayal
We are witnessing in India the worst side of human behaviour — with the release of Bilkis Bano’s rapists, Seema Patra’s inhumane treatment of Sunita, her house help, and Ankita and Naina, who faced cruelty and torture by men whose harassment they fought. We need to remember their names
In some cases, there is selective silence, and in others, there is selective outrage. The religion of the criminal and of the survivor has been made a basis for who speaks and on what. Effectively, there is no politician who will speak for every woman. So, we have to speak for ourselves. (HT Photo)
Know these names, remember them, and don’t turn away because you have anger or compassion fatigue. Know them because they exemplify how women’s bodies have been turned into battlefields on which misogyny marches like a marauder. Know them because we — not even one of us — are excluded from the possibility of this being our tragedy in one or the other form. Know them, because some of us should be grateful for our class privilege that affords lawyers, medical care, and support systems. Know them, because we, as India’s women, need to shut down the outrageous competitive politics over rape and abuse. Know them, because we must call out these politicians who have betrayed us while pretending to care about us. And know them, because it’s time to say: Enough.
Even for those of us who have seen and reported the worst side of human behaviour, it has been a triggering week to be a woman. When I first saw the video of Sunita, a young tribal woman who had her teeth knocked out, barely able to form words as she recounted how Seema Patra, now suspended Jharkhand Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) leader had enslaved and tortured her, I cried. So did every other woman that evening who was a guest on my show. Sunita had been burnt with hot stoves, thrashed with iron roads, and made to lick urine off the floor, she said. But the most poignant part of her testimony was her desire to study when she gets better. These are the dreams of India’s young women, interrupted and upended by cruelty and violence.
Seven hours from Ranchi, in Dumka, a school-going girl, Ankita lay swathed in bandages, her face scarred by burns, because Shahrukh, her stalker, decided to pour gasoline over her as she slept. Yet, this courageous steely child gave a dying declaration, identifying her killer, speaking cogently, firmly and bravely.
There is a mountain of questions for the Jharkhand government — distracted as it is by the challenges of political survival. Could Ankita not have been airlifted for better medical intervention? Could the financial aid that was given to her family after she died not have been given earlier? Crucial time was lost; Ankita was fighting to live when she named Shahrukh. In tears, her father says, “Meri beti Ankita tarap tarap kar mar gayee.” (My daughter tossed around in agony before she died).
In the Capital, another father wept, as he documented how Naina, his 16-year-old daughter, had been shot at by a man called Amanat Ali. Naina, a school student, is battling for her life in an intensive care unit. She was assaulted for refusing to talk to Ali, a cyber-stalker, on Instagram. New data tells us that in the past year, two young girls were sexually assaulted every day in Delhi. The city leads in being unsafe for women, followed by Mumbai. So, we should drop any illusions we have about being exempt as urban Indians from these horrors, even counting for higher reporting of crimes in the cities.
And, of course, in Gujarat’s Godhra, the legal team for Bilkis Bano is worried that the 11 men who gang raped a pregnant Bilkis and her mother — and killed her child — may have gone underground amid demands for them to be sent back to prison. Their release is an outrageous travesty of justice. The Supreme Court is hearing two petitions demanding that the release be overturned and the men be sent back to prison. But, legally, they are free to go where they wish. And they could quite simply vanish into any corner of the country or world they choose before any decision is reached.
In this week of horror and heartbreak, politicians are competing over our safety and security. Whataboutery thrives. It’s a disgusting “your rapist is worse than my rapist” debate. Worst, in some cases, there is selective silence and in other cases, there is selective outrage. The religion of the criminal and the religion of the survivor have been made a basis for who speaks and on what.
Effectively, there is no politician who will speak for every woman.
So, we have to speak for ourselves.
We have to push back against the attempt to divide us based on political and ideological affiliations. We have to question the silence of women who have power, but choose to keep shut. We have to resist the petty squabbling of political parties who pretend to care about us, but who really only care about their next election.
And we have to remember these names and say them out loud.
Bilkis, Ankita. Sunita. Naina.
Every woman.
Barkha Dutt is an award-winning journalist and author
E-Paper
_1662129396551.jpg "In some cases, there is selective silence, and in others, there is selective outrage. The religion of the criminal and of the survivor has been made a basis for who speaks and on what. Effectively, there is no politician who will speak for every woman. So, we have to speak for ourselves. (HT Photo)")
