Guddi (name changed) is 18 and comes from a very poor family in Kishanganj. Her marriage was mediated by an acquaintance. Everything happened according to Islamic rituals, and in the presence of both families. The mediator owned an iron grill shop where her husband used to work. He provided the couple work and space to live in his shop. Then her nightmare began. The shop-owner would send her husband away on the pretext of business and rape her. When she resisted, he threatened to kill her. The abuse continued.
In September 2020, the shop-owner took Guddi out on the pretext of making her an Aadhaar card. They took a bus from Kishanganj. When Guddi inquired why they were taking a bus, he said they were going to a place where they make Aadhaar cards for free. This is how he lured her to Begusarai, where she was sold to traffickers.
She was forced into prostitution from the very first day. She kept crying and her health deteriorated day by day. Looking at her condition, the traffickers dropped her back near her house in Kishanganj. She narrated her story to her parents. In October 2020, they got in touch with Rahat, an NGO that has been working with human trafficking survivors for the last 20 years—and a case was registered in the Mahila Thana at Kishanganj. The accused was sent to jail within two days. By that time, Guddi realised she was pregnant. Now she has an infant to take care of and lives with her parents.
But Guddi is not alone. Every year, hundreds of women of Kishanganj district are trafficked. With a population of around 17 lakh, Kishanganj has five red light areas. Khagra and Katahalbari are situated in the town. Prem Nagar, Sameshar and Bishanpur are in rural areas. District admiration raids these places from time to time, so they either shut down temporarily, or relocate.
Farzana, who runs the NGO Rahat—working to bring back survivors to the mainstream, says: “Kishanganj works as source, transit and destination of such activities.” She adds, “Poverty, proximity to the international border, good connectivity and lack of skills and employment makes the district most vulnerable.” Although seven districts of Bihar share their borders with Nepal, Kishanganj is also closest to the Bangladesh border through a narrow strip of Uttar Dinajpur district of West Bengal. The district is well connected with national highways and rails, and is just 90 km from Bagdogra airport in West Bengal.
Experts say lack of awareness and dream of working in big cities often make people more vulnerable. Most of the time, an acquaintance lays a trap for the women.
***
It’s Monday morning, when a 12-year-old boy should normally be in school. But Shamshad (name changed) is having his breakfast in a ‘hotel’ in Kishanganj’s Pothia. He has earned the food after washing dishes since morning. Breakfast, lunch and Rs 50 a day—that’s what he gets for washing all the dishes in the roadside shack from sunrise till late night. The third of four siblings, his elder brothers and father work as migrant labourers who haven’t returned home since the last year.
“They are earning money to build our house,” says Shamshad, who studied till Class V in a village school. His studies were interrupted after the school closed down during the lockdown. He says: “We don’t have money. I don’t want to study either. I’ll work in hotels for a few years, and then I want to learn sewing to work in big cities.”
The family owns a one-room mud house. When the entire family is at home, some of them have to sleep in the open verandah. His youngest sister goes to a madrassa.
NITI Aayog’s MPI (Multidimensional Poverty Index) report has called Bihar the poorest state in the country, with around 52 per cent of the population multidimensionally poor. The report puts Kishanganj at the top, with 64.75 per cent poverty, i.e. around 11 lakh of the district’s population is categorised as poor.
Apart from human trafficking, child labour and migration, there are many other facets of poverty in the district.
***
Tarachandra Kumar Pandit, the husband of Minoti Devi (35), was a habitual drunkard. “He used to drink and abuse his parents, didn’t take care of expenses even then. He died because of his drinking habits,” says Minoti.
He died six years ago, leaving behind the responsibility of four daughters, aged between eight and 16, on her shoulders. Minoti works as house help and farm labour for livelihood. But it’s not easy to get work every day, and the wage is meagre for a family of five. “I earn Rs 200 a day, but I get work only half the year. It’s very hard,” says Minoti.
Last year, Minoti fell ill for a month and her two daughters had to work for a livelihood to get her mother treated. She says, “I still owe the doctor Rs 2,000. So the older daughters started working, though they get paid less for the same work.”
Mechi and I Abdul Majeed walks his bicycle laden with goods for the local haat
Minoti doesn’t have an LPG connection. Her daughters collect dry leaves and grass every day to use as fuel in an earthen hearth. According to the MPI report, 63.20 per cent of households in Bihar cook with cowdung cakes, wood, coal and grass. The National Family Health Survey report from 2015-2016 had the number at 82.92 per cent.
Minoti’s family lives in a single-room house. She pays Rs 1,200 a month as tuition fee for all four daughters. She took a group loan of Rs 10,000 to run a small shop from her house. She built a structure adjacent to her house to get the loan sanctioned. It’s been over a year but she’s yet to be paid the rest of the amount to start the shop.
***
There’s only one bread-winner in 73-year-old Ramdev Paswan’s family of nine. His son is a migrant labourer and has his own family to take care of. Landless Ramdev’s weakness doesn’t allow him to work anymore. He has to beg for money to buy medicines from acquaintances.
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His daughter died at the time of delivery. Her husband ran away from the hospital. Now, Ramdev has to take care of his differently-abled grandson as well. “He is 13 years old. How will the kid survive if I die today? He can’t even speak properly. I have to take care of all his needs, from feeding him to taking him to the loo,” says Ramdev.
Ramdev has been getting Rs 400 a month as old-age pension for the last one-and-a-half years. Ideally, the pension should have started 13 years ago. He accuses local representatives for the delay.
His family eats saag bhaat (rice with leafy greens). Fish or meat has almost disappeared from their plates. “The kids fetch whatever wild saag they find from the nearby fields, we eat that with rice. We last ate fish two months ago. The kids cry for fish or meat, but what can I do?” says Ramdev.
He doesn’t even use electricity at home. “I told them I can’t pay the bill. So I removed the electricity wires. They don’t ask for bills anymore. It’s been 4-5 years,” he says.
***
Flood and river erosion have been harbingers of poverty in the Seemanchal region of Bihar. Every year, rivers wash away acres of land, forcing families to migrate or survive by doing odd jobs.
Abdul Majeed, a resident of Dallegaon under Thakurganj block of Kishanganj district, had eight acres of agricultural land. The Mechi River, flowing from Nepal, took it all away.
On a sunny day, a slim 58-year-old Abdul Majeed leaves his house on his old bicycle, with two bags hanging from the handle and three bags tied to its rear carrier, all stuffed with commodities.
This is his daily routine. He rides 15 km to nearby Thakurganj town every day on his bicycle and buys goods. On the way, he has to cross Mechi, the same river that turned his life upside down. Wherever there is a haat (weekly market) in the vicinity, Majeed rides there on a bicycle to sell goods.
“I sell biscuits, oil, sugar, tea leaves, pulses, etc. at the haat, and earn around Rs 200-250 a day, says Majeed, wiping sweat from his forehead.
He says, “I had eight acres of agricultural land. It was well-cultivated and easily met my family’s needs. But within the last five years, all eight acres were washed away by the Mechi River. This has forced me to sell goods in the market for a livelihood. What else can I do at this age?”
“Till this year, I had one acre left. This time, that too is gone,” says Majeed, who is left with just the piece of land on which his house—a thatched hut—stands. In it live six people—Majeed and his wife, their daughter, two granddaughters and a daughter-in-law. His only son works in Punjab.
“My son works as a marble cutter in Punjab. He supports us with whatever he can,” he says, with a sigh.
In MPI, Kishanganj and Araria are identified as the poorest districts, while Patna and its neighbour Bhojpur are the richest. It won’t be an exaggeration to conclude that distance from the capital city has been a prime reason for historical neglect of the Seemanchal region.
(This appeared in the print edition as "A Bottomless Pit")
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Tanzil Asif is a Seemanchal-based journalist, who is the founder of hyper-local news platform Main Media
