Red Light Despatch Volume VII, Issue 9 September 2014
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Apne Aap Women Worldwide—Organizing Communities to End Sex Trafficking Red Light Despatch Volume VII, Issue 9 SePTEMBER 2014 Delhi, Kolkata, and Forbesganj (Bihar) My Dreams Open Letter to Ruchira Gupta, President of Apne Aap “ To be an artist” Dolly, 16 years —Fatima Khatoon Kolkata: My name is Dolly Bihar: decided to fight for myself and on Mahato.I have described the My dear Ruchira di, their behalf. From that day onward, beauty of nature in my draw- Fatima‘s struggle against exploita- I, Fatima Khatoon want to thank you ing, by showing house, trees, tion of girls and women begun. from the bottom of my heart. When I river, boat, fishes, stones and Every time, I used to get beaten up, learnt that I will be playing for Kaun mountains. I have drawn the my conviction and determination Banega Crorepati, I could not be- best things from nature. was getting stronger. Eventually, I lieve it. And when I was on the hot have been able to free three girls Through this picture, I have seat of KBC, it was a dream-come- from sex trade within my own fam- tried to convey the message to true moment for me. I was also re- ily. In fact, I have helped two girls the world regarding the impor- membering my childhood days. get a plot of land each from my tance of nature. For instance, When I got married at the age of 9, I mother-in-law as compensation. trees are cut down ruthlessly barely understood what marriage without thinking that they are But I was still waiting for someone really means and by the time I could our life support. We breathe who will support me in my struggle start dreaming about my marriage, fresh air and the greenery con- and help me get out of my own sur- all my dreams were already killed. I tributes for our beautiful rounding. One day, I learnt that a used to helplessly watch how girls world. school is going to start within my were forced into prostitution in my own village. But alas! I was not al- Another reason for drawing own family and in the neighborhood. lowed to get out of my house. this picture is that I am very When I started identifying my pain fond of nature and its colour- with theirs, I decided to fight back. I (Continued on page 6) fulness that beautifies our world .That‘s why I have “Appeal for the upgradation of KGBV in Bihar High Court” drawn a small village in my picture. —Tinku Khanna I am delighted because through this picture I have Tinku Khanna is the Head, Network- fic Prevention Act, 1986. It further won a beautiful Gold Medal. I ing and Advocacy of Apne Aap sought the following directions to the am happier today than I was Women Worldwide State Government and local authori- yesterday, even when I chose Bihar: In response to the PIL filed ties: to draw this picture. by Apne Aap Women Worldwide, Appointment of Special police I want to be an artist in future the High Court of Patna has been officers as required by ITPA for and I pray people value the continuously passing orders which proper implementation of the contribution of nature work have strengthened the anti- law, and further directions that towards sustaining its beauty trafficking initiatives in Bihar with any raids conducted in red light for eternity. far-reaching consequences. areas must be accompanied by women social workers; The PIL has been filed in January, 2013. Finding none of their efforts Maintenance of proper Shelter bearing any fruit, the organization homes in Bihar, as required by Dolly Mahato is one of the finally approached the Patna High the law, and duly certified by the beneficiaries of Apne Aap Court in a Public Interest Litigation, Social Welfare Board; Women Worldwide. detailing its travails and seeking the implementation of the Constitutional mandate of Article 23, and the statu- Continued on page 7 tory provisions of the Immoral Traf- 2 Red Light Despatch ♦ Vol VII, Issue 9 Op/Ed : An eye-opener called Naina - Ruchira Gupta’s column in The Telegraph A naked light bulb swings above an older man as he the IPC. At one point, I asked the judge if he had any heaves over a young girl‘s body. A torn curtain flutters proof, except his mother‘s validation that he was her in the breeze. The first man leaves and one more walks son. Our fate hung in balance as a hushed court and an to the bed. A woman in a green sari screams ‗Naina, angry judge stared at me. Naina‘ as she rushes towards a house in a dirty alley At night I called an editor in Patna, an MP in Delhi, called Coolie Para in Katihar. The little girl looks out and a nationally known constitutional lawyer. They got from behind a barred window, as a man smashes the a quote from the advocate-general saying that the law woman‘s head into a water tank. should be interpreted in the child‘s best interest. As a I watch from my seat in an auditorium in New York as face-saver Naina‘s custody was given to the state of the brothel manager drags the little girl away from the Bihar — neither to the pimp nor to the mother. window. I am at the premiere of a movie There was no children‘s home in Katihar. The police called Meena,directed by former ―Charlie‘s Angel‖, would take her to Patna. We were loath to let Naina out Lucy Liu. The girl at the window is Naina and the of our sight. With no money and no ticket, we hopped woman in the green sari is her mother, Meena, seven onto the train with the police. years ago. Naina was angry with her mother for first abandoning Another scene flashes on the screen. A woman gets off her, with us for then rescuing her and with the govern- a police van, marches into the brothel to Naina and ment for putting her into a children‘s jail. She was says she is Ruchira, come to take her away. frustrated by the alphabets she had to learn and the The surreal experience of watching myself on a screen numbers she had to count. She bit another girl in the recedes, as my mind wanders to Lalten Bazar, a make- shelter, threatened to commit suicide, refused to meet shift red-light area lit by oil lamps, in the middle of a her mother. Inmates in the shelter beat her. dirty flood zone, with huts made of bamboo sheets and I began to wonder what was the point? Maybe it was beds divided by torn saris. Eight years ago, chatting on better to let her waste away in the brothel. The world a string-bed outside her hut, Meena had told me how had nothing to offer her. The mother stopped talking to the same man who had pimped her to hundreds of men me, the daughter stopped talking to me. My ego made when she was eight, was now pimping her daughter, me stubborn, to prove that prostitutes could rescue Naina. We resolved to get Naina out. their daughters, that prostituted daughters could start I did not tell Meena that I knew as little about police new lives and that all injustices could be turned complaints and judicial processes as her. Or that my around. I coaxed, cajoled, yelled, shouted, but hung in grand plan was to rent a car, show up at the police sta- there with tuitions, medical treatment and counselling tion and with the help of the English language and an for mother and daughter. A parallel thought process on outdated press card, browbeat the reluctant superinten- the larger futility of it all was futile. dent of police into busting the brothel. I was right. We did get Naina out, but the officer disappeared after In just seven years, Meena has moved out of the red- taking us to the police station. Hungry and hot, we light area and now owns a thatched hut with a bamboo waited in the twilight for a word from him. A hostile fence. Two school-bicycles of her younger daughters mob from the Coolie Para stood outside. We passed lean against a wall. Naina can read and write in Eng- time, swatting mosquitoes and texting friends in high lish, Hindi and Bengali, blogs occasionally, has found places. A journalist friend living nearby showed up her own husband and has a one-year-old son. The pimp with a few street theatre activists. and the brothel manager are in jail. Next day the sessions judge refused to give Naina‘s When the lady from UNICEF in the after-movie panel custody to Meena, saying she was a woman of ―bad‖ said I was an unsung hero, I did not feel unsung, but character. However, he wanted to return Naina to the alone. No one could rescue me from the sense of alien- pimp because she had referred to him as ‗Papa‘. I ran ation I felt from a world that did this to many Meenas out and found a lawyer typing under a tree and retained and Nainas all the time. him on the spot. Later at the reception, an upmarket Jewish dentist of- Our lawyer did not know the law! But then neither did fered to do my dental work as a gesture of solidarity. the judge. I decided to argue for custody myself.