Rohingya Refugees: Vulnerable on the sea, not much better on land!

You probably have been reading about them these past few days or watching them on TV - the Rohingya refugees of Myanmar who were chased out of their homeland and now floating around the ocean on boats with no food, no water and nowhere to go. Hundreds of them have already died already while death stares at hundreds of others.

Truth is, hunger and misery are also constant companions of even those Rohingyas who live on the land. I met some of them in Hyderabad city of India. Sharing here some of the images that, several months later, still haunt me!

The Rohingya refugees arrived in India from Bangladesh. For some, it has been a few weeks, while some have been here since 2012. Each one of them has a horrific story to share: beaten, tortured, forced to leave home, watching their near ones being murdered and their homes being burned down.

Girls' Education: Lets Look Beyond Enrollment

I recently met Bharti, a bubbly 13 year old, at a children's shelter 110 km away from Hyderabad. She had been rescued a few of months ago, the staff at the shelter told me.

"Rescued from who and what? Traffickers? Abusive employers?" I wanted to know
The answer was, "from her own parents".

No, Bharti's parents were not abusive or trying to sell their daughter to someone. It's just that they often stopped her from going to school and took her to work in a farm instead.

Now this sounds quite trivial, doesn't it? After all, the parents are just making the girl miss a few days' school now and then, right?

Not quite.

Sex Workers Daughters Access Education in India

The story below was published in Global Press Institute on Oct 11- the first International Girl's Day. I was traveling and read it myself after a couple of days. So, thought of sharing it here, with a few new photos. You can also read the original article here.

The kids at Chaithanya Happy Home sing as a proud Jayamma - their guardian looks with a smile.

NEW DELHI, INDIA – Madhavi, 12, of Hyderabad, the capital of Andhra Pradesh state in southern India, is an aspiring poet.

“I love music and poetry,” she says. “When I grow up, I want to teach poetry to little children.”

But the girl’s own childhood was far from poetic. Deep scars on Madhavi’s face mark the time a dog mauled her at age 2 while she was living on the streets with her mother, who earned a living as a sex worker.

Yet Madhavi’s eyes shine as she smiles and dreams about her future.

“To be a schoolteacher and take care of so many children will be fun,” she says.

And she now has the opportunity to achieve her dreams. No longer living on the streets with her mother, she has safe shelter at Chaithanya Happy Home and studies in the fifth grade at a city school.

Chaithanya Happy Home is part of Chaithanya Mahila Mandali, India’s first nonprofit organization founded by a former sex worker, Jayamma Bandari. Between the ages of 4 and 14, the 35 girls living in the home are all daughters of commercial sex workers.

Even a decade ago, the fate for these girls was to join the same profession as their mothers once they came of age. Today, however, they are living in a safe place and are attending one of the best English-medium schools in Hyderabad, dreaming of becoming schoolteachers, engineers, doctors and revenue collectors.

Joseph Kony: 7 facts the video doesn't tell you

The first time I was sent the Joseph Kony video, I ignored it. It was International Women’s Day and Holi – the spring festival of colors. I wasn't in a mood to watch anything that looked suspiciously disturbing.

Today however, with the colors of Holi safely washed off, I watched the video. Instead of horror (courtesy my roots in North east India,  war, guns and atrocities don’t shock me so quickly). my reaction to Kony video was a bunch of questions. Unfortunately, the video doesn’t answer them. So, I went searching for the answers and I thought that maybe I should write them; maybe there are other doubting Thomas on the net like me

So, my first question is, Joseph Kony abducts and turns children into soldiers with guns. WHY THE HELL DOES HE DO THAT? 

Here is the answer: Joseph Kony belongs to a tribe called Acholi. He is fighting to create a sovereign state for the Acholi people in Uganda. His aim: to run an Acholiland, on the basis of the Biblical 10 commandments. He uses his (child soldier) army to kill his enemies who are mostly soldiers and civilians supporting the Ugandan president Museveni. Sounds pretty much a fanatic Christian version of the Taliban to me!

Question 2: How does Kony rule over his army? What is the opium he feeds them?

Answer: Apart from the dream of an Acholi nation, Joseph Kony tells his young warriors that the Holy Spirit can shield them in battle if the proper belief, the proper application of Holy Oil, signs of the cross, and the proper recitation of prayer songs etc. Also, he also tells them that if they die, they would have eternal life in heaven. Now, haven’t we heard something like that from Islamic Jihadis?

Question 3: If Kony has been running his child abduction and child torturing business for 30  holi s**t long years, it obviously means he has support. So, where does it come from?

Ulhasnagar and Banaskatha - the great Indian Human markets

No matter how much you love shopping, here are two 'unique' Bazaars in India that you will wish had never existed: Ulhasnagar near Mumbai and Banskatha in Gujarat. And what is so unique about them? Its the goods that they sell: humans
 
I was born near Ulhasnagar - a township barely 2 and half hours from Mumbai, en route Pune. I knew that Ulhasnagar had a very dubious distinction of being the piracy hub of India. There was a thriving market for selling pirated copies of illegal - and horrible - versions of any electronic 'foreign' goods. But this week I was surprised to learn that Ulhasnagar also has a thriving market for selling human babies. Exposed by Mid-day, a tabloid published from Mumbai, the baby bazaar apparently sells stolen new born babies at INR 100,000 - 300,000. After the report was published, Fauziya Khan, minister of state, women and child welfare, said, "We will carry out an investigation on this issue. After a proper investigation, we will take action."

I think the question that the investigators should begin with is 'where do the babies come from?' The root of the rot has to be there!
 
Now, while the Ulhasnagar's baby bazaar might see a good intervention and hopefully a closure, a market for adolescent  girls and women in Wadia village in Banskatha district of Gujarat has been continuing smoothly, without any 'disturbance'. In this community run market  men, brothers and fathers of girls pimp for their own sisters and daughters, marketing them to truckers and men from neighboring villages. And this isn't an issue for any politician or opinion leaders

Sometimes, Peace Means Letting Go

Sharing my story published on Peace X Peace - a women's media organization based in Washington DC, US.

“With my attacker dead, I decided that there was nothing I could gain by telling his stories. Instead, I could try helping his family…”
***

Sometimes, to make peace, you get to move on

One evening I was at the dentist’s clinic. I sat listening to him as he showed the x-rays he had earlier taken of my teeth and gum; there were several small cavities, one of my front teeth was almost dead, and, there was a big cyst in my gum.

“I can fix this, though we will need multiple root canal surgeries,” he said, before adding, “But I am really curious about how you got that cyst. You must have had a bad fall, a bad injury. There was internal bleeding.”  “I don’t remember,” I said.

We left his clinic with an elaborate treatment plan in hand.

My best friend, who knew me well, was walking beside me. I could sense her curiosity and her eagerness to know yet another story of my life. But it didn’t come.

I came home, had dinner, and went to bed. But all night through, between the sound of passing vehicles and barking dogs, I kept hearing the doctor’s voice: “There must have been an accident.”

Yes, accident it sure was, but a deliberate one; one that broke my gum, but saved my dignity, my life.