Caught in the Cross-fire: Kashmir’s Orphans Ignored by the Government
by Afsaana Rashid
– Indian-administered Kashmir –
October 27, 2008 – Kashmiri separatists and the Pakistani government commemorate “Black Day” the anniversary of the Indian army’s forcible entrance into Kashmir 61 years ago. – Ed.
When asked what he likes to do on the festival of Eid-ul-fitr (the celebration ending the month of Ramadan), Ishfaq Ahmad hangs his head. After a brief pause, with his eyes still focused on the floor, Ishfaq recalls nostalgically a time when he lived with his parents in Hangnikote, Kupwara, in the border district. But at the age of four, he and his younger brother lost both of their parents within a period of six months. As there was no one to look after them, the boys moved in with a distant relative, where they lived until Ishfaq was noticed by a volunteer one morning as he sat shivering in the cold.
It was November 2002. Volunteers of a local NGO happened to pass by for their routine fieldwork—locating orphans and widows in Kupwara for rehabilitation.
“Just adjacent to him was his younger brother in the lap of his relative,” recalls the volunteer, adding, “Ishfaq was wearing a torn and old jacket, with his legs uncovered, gazing at a narrow lane that connected it with the main road.”
“Given his age, he was unable to explain his trauma,” says the volunteer. Ishfaq was taken to Children Hospital before being brought to a special home, or orphanage. “Ishfaq showed a lot of aggression in the beginning. Because [he was depressed], aggression was quite natural,” says the volunteer. “Doctors in the hospital suggested that he be sent back to his native place,” adds the volunteer.
“We could not adopt both brothers due to our rules governing adoption. Later we came to know that Ishfaq’s younger brother too was adopted by another NGO in Srinagar. Despite living in same city, the two brothers do not see each other,” he says.
Such scenes of misery and hardship are common place in Kashmir. For thousands of orphans and widows, the world as they once knew it has come to a halt. Cut off from the rest of the society, these unfortunate souls are largely left to fend for themselves.
In most families here, especially among the middle class, the husband is the skilled professional or laborer and therefore the breadwinner for the family. If he becomes unemployed or loses work hours, his wife can take on a menial job to help get the family through the difficult period. If, however, he loses his life or disappears in the conflict, his wife and children are almost certainly left destitute.
Without any income or skills, and an average of two to three children to provide for, Kashmiri widows must to look for alternatives in order to survive. They are often forced to leave their homes, and their children consequently suffer. In many cases, children are forced to leave their studies; too often, they are also subjected to child labor. Most of them live a penurious life with few alternatives to alleviate their socioeconomic reality.
UNICEF estimates that Kashmir has as many as 100,000 special or orphaned children – a sizable percentage of the population and one whose fate will determine the overall development of Kashmir’s society. Despite the obvious need, the government has not developed a plan for their rehabilitation, observing instead a code of silence.
Before the 1990s, an orphan would be adopted by a relative or neighbor in accordance with religious and social practice. Consequently, the need for orphanages was never felt.
The JK Practitioner, a medical sciences journal, supports this observation. In a report entitled The Children Living in Orphanages in Kashmir: An exploration of their nurture, nature and needs, the journal states that only one special home existed in Srinagar city before 1986. It further mentions that until 1996-97, few NGOs functioned in the state, particularly in the domain of orphan care.
The report argues that although no single special child died of hunger in Kashmir over these years, they still constitute an underprivileged class that requires special attention and extraordinary effort.
NGOs have stepped in to fill the void. There are more than 3,000 registered NGOs (and many unregistered ones) operating in the Kashmir valley, but few are working for orphan care. Combined, NGO orphanages provide for 1,000-2,000 children, or 1-2 percent of those requiring assistance. Unfortunately, there is no law to govern or regulate orphanages so the, growth of special homes without any accountability has mushroomed. Some social activists believe that this increases the risk of child exploitation.
According to A. R. Hanjura, a well-known social activist and attorney, there are 17 special homes in the NGO sector. “No revelation, no similarity, no common laws, no facility of standard and no rules govern them. Nothing is there. It is a new thing to have these homes here. Artificial family cannot replace natural family. Women of the deceased lack guidance but the community must support them,” observes Hanjura.
“There are 80,000 special children in the Valley, and how to nourish them is a question. Definitely, special homes are no solution – but for the catering and nourishing of some of them, homes play a vital role,” he says.
Despite the presence of so many NGOs, not every widow or orphan is taken care of. A social activist, speaking on the condition of anonymity, says that corruption is deeply rooted here as well. “Some NGOs are preferred over others for reasons better known to them. Funds are not properly utilized though their annual reports are updated.”
Dr. Rouf Mohi-ud-din is the Director of Koshish, a social group advocating for marginalized children, and the former chairman of Jammu and Kashmir Yateem Foundation, a local NGO that runs a special home. He believes that there is no alternative, especially when the state is not taking responsibility for its human beings, particularly children.
“The organization does not believe in upholding the concept of special homes. But when we have children who have no support, we need to [support] institutions. We are forced to go for such homes, which by and large, are not accepted by Islamic society,” says Dr. Rouf, adding, “Orphanage culture is the last resort for those who have none to look after them.”
Another JK Practitioner report, Psychiatric disorders among children living in orphanages – Experience from Kashmir discusses the effects trauma have on children who have lost family members, often witnessing the murder of their loved ones. The report concludes that many of these children land in orphanages after their social support network disintegrates – an unfortunate byproduct of chronic conflict.
According to Dr. Rouf, most of the special homes are located in and around Srinagar City, which he says encourages relatives to consider it as a feasible option for orphans.
“People ask us to admit their special children in such homes. They think the children would get a better education and [want them to benefit from the] other facilities here, but frankly speaking, these homes are nothing more than shelter homes,” says Dr. Rouf.
As Hanjura reflects, “Those who have lost everything land up in orphanages…Sometimes people feel insecure, particularly in the border areas because of troop and militant presence. To keep their children away from that environment, [some people] consider special homes a viable option.”
Dr. Rouf says that apart from economic constraints – such as reduced working days, unemployment, the death of the breadwinner and the mother’s engagement in menial jobs (after her husband’s death) – it is the encouragement from society that perpetuates the orphan problem.
He partially attributes the influx of special homes to certain elements that “aim to amass wealth.” According to him, special children were previously taken care of by the society itself. “As their number increased, institutions were encouraged.”
“Putting a group of children in a house is an easy way to collect alms from people. Whereas organizations who work for the welfare of such children in their homes do not find it easy to collect donations from people,” said Dr Rouf. He adds that society is not nearly as generous to organizations that work with mentally and physical challenged people and lepers as it is for those working with special children.
Behind their innocent and smiling faces, these special children carry is a scar – a feeling of deep hurt and irreparable loss – the loss of their parent. With inaccurate data to truly register the enormity of the orphan issue here and with so few advocates, the suffering of Kashmir’s special children goes unseen.
Photo by flickr user Christopher Dick used under Creative Commons licenses. – Ed.
About the Author
Afsaana Rashid is a journalist living in Indian-administered Kashmir and the author of Waiting for Justice: Widows and Half Widows, a book that addresses the plight of many women whose husbands have been subjected to enforced disappearance or custodial killings over the past two decades of Kashmir’s conflict. Currently the chief correspondent for Kashmir’s English daily, Khidmat, she was also a senior correspondent with Daily Etalaat, and has written for The Kashmir Times and Kashmir Images. She received her Masters in Mass Communication and Journalism from the University of Kashmir.
In 2005, Afsaana was awarded a fellowship for her work on the impact of conflict on the subsistence livelihoods of marginalized communities in Kashmir by Action Aid India. The following year, she was awarded a Sanjoy Ghose Media fellowship for her work in conflict areas. She also received a UN Population Fund-Laadli Media Award for best reporting in adverse conditions on gender issues in April 2008.
Devoted to covering human rights violations, Afsaana hopes to give a voice to the voiceless.
Afsaana, thank you for this important and tragic article. As you said, the children and women here have paid too high a price for the ongoing conflict. Your coverage provides a rare glimpse into the many layers of life in Indian-administered Kashmir.