We, the Pardhi, assert our identity with pride and continue to fight for our dignity and rights.
From as early as three years old, our lives have been marked by fear and discrimination. Whether at school, in the market, or even at home, we faced violence and abuse simply for being Pardhi. The police regularly raided our neighborhoods without reason, often resulting in tragic losses of friends and family.
Our traditional hunting skills, once respected and vital, have been criminalized, leaving us struggling for survival. We were branded as criminals by the Criminal Tribes Act, alongside other communities like the Kanjars and Sansis, leading to systemic abuse and economic deprivation.
In Rajasthan, a 15-year-old Pardhi girl was taken into custody on the false allegation of stealing a mobile phone. When her pregnant mother Soyna went to the police station to request her release, she was detained and beaten, hung on to the fan by the police, while pregnant, leading to her death. Her daughter, falsely accused of theft, was detained and traumatized.
This systematic hatred has caused us to face relentless violence and discrimination. Police raids, unjust detentions, and extortion is routine. In one incident, a seven-year-old girl, Rihana, was killed by bricks thrown at her while she ate breakfast by the roadside. The police response was indifference, questioning why she was waste-picking instead of investigating her murder.
We, the denotified tribes (DNTs), are unprotected by legal mechanisms available to other marginalized communities. Despite clear evidence of our tribal traits, political will to recognize us as Scheduled Tribes is absent. Our leaders are courted for votes but ignored when it comes to our rights and recognition.
Systemic bias ensures Pardhi men are constantly under threat of arrest, often without cause. Instances of wrongful detention and torture are rampant. In one case, five men from the Wadar community spent years on death row for crimes they didn’t commit, only to be acquitted after a prolonged legal battle. Our women are not allowed in the weekly markets. As children, we were always targeted. We were forced to give up our seats on buses, and school principals called the police when our parents tried to enroll us. This happened again when community members demanded respect for their children in another school. We couldn’t understand if it was our language, clothes, or traditional neckwear that singled us out.
In March 2020, a group of women and children from the Kanjar community ventured to a Holi fair in Berasia town, hoping their numbers would protect them. Instead, the local police detained all 70 of them overnight in a government building, releasing them only after extorting money.
Our struggles are compounded by society’s deep-rooted prejudices, which view us as inherently criminal. This bias fuels police brutality and societal violence against us. The colonial-era Criminal Tribes Act of 1871 entrenched these prejudices, branding us as hereditary criminals—a stigma that persists even after the act’s repeal.
Today, our lives are defined by constant survival against systemic oppression. We face violence, extortion, and displacement from our lands and livelihoods. Despite these challenges, we resist.
We dream of a day when we are recognized as equal citizens, free from violence and discrimination, and our truth is acknowledged and respected.
In the bustling city of Hyderabad, a resilient young boy of ten, facing Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, a type of blood cancer that affects the lymphatic system, greets each day with renewed determination. His simple pleasures of life are board games and egg-fried rice, watching motu-patlu adventures, singing, and dancing. These pleasures help him recoup as rigorous treatment necessitates ample periods of rest. Common side effects of therapy are gradual weight loss, vision impairment, hair thinning, dizziness, weakness & breathlessness. However, even after treatment, there’s a risk of long-term problems, including infertility and an increased risk of developing another type of cancer in the future.*
But today marks a departure from routine as the boy embarks on a long-held dream—to be a police officer. Today he visits the Banjara Hill police thana. Dressed in a miniature police uniform, he stands tall as Detective Inspector Zakir Hussain salutes him. Spending the day immersed in the workings of the police unit, he shares his aspirations with the volunteers and Detective Inspector Zakir, to become a detective police officer. Patiently, listening to Inspector Zakir’s story on how he landed up in the forces, his eyes beamed with determination to be just like him.
This wish, more than a moment, was a lighthouse in his storm, bringing boundless joy and a newfound zest for life. Research says that giving a patient, especially a child something to look forward to and live for, has a significant positive impact on their physical, psychological, and emotional well-being and also response to treatment.
This project goes above and beyond to understand each child’s unique desires and strives to create personalized wish experiences that will leave a lasting impact and perhaps even extend their lives. It wasn’t just a day; it was a transformative experience that defined hope, strength, and the unwavering spirit of a young soul.
Sonarika’s journey from a victim of human trafficking to a determined student overcoming educational barriers is not just a story; it’s a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. Despite facing unimaginable challenges and the pain of loss at a tender age, Sonarika refused to be defined by her past. When she entered one of Delhi’s top schools, she found herself grappling with English, a subject that seemed to mock her efforts and erode her confidence.
But Sonarika’s story is not one of despair; it’s a narrative of hope fueled by the unwavering support of compassionate educators and the nurturing environment of a shelter that became her sanctuary. Through tireless dedication and countless extra hours of tutoring, she gradually transformed her academic trajectory. From a dismal 29% in 2018, Sonarika’s English scores skyrocketed to an impressive 59% this year.
Her remarkable improvement is not merely a statistical feat; it’s a profound illustration of what happens when hard work and commitment converge with unwavering support. Special attention, becomes crucial as these children have been traumatized.
At the tender age of nine, Kamal found herself within the nurturing walls of a shelter home—a sanctuary from the shadows of her past. The scars of early physical abuse had left her with a heart barricaded against trust. Yet, in the company of her mother and two younger sisters, Kamal faced the world’s cruel rejection with an unwavering spirit.
The family, shunned by their own kin and denied a father’s acceptance simply for being daughters, discovered in the shelter a beacon of hope. Here, Kamal’s journey of transformation began. She seized every chance to flourish. Her awareness expanding beyond the confines of her previous world.
In the disciplined dance of Taekwondo, she found not just joy, but a profound sense of empowerment. With each kick and block, she reclaimed her strength, rewriting her narrative from victim to victor. Driven by curiosity and determination, she now wants to pursue higher studies abroad, in the field of psychology and is enthusiastically practicing not only English but also Korean and Spanish languages. She also loves to explore new cuisines along with her peers.
In the tapestry of her life, each challenge is interwoven with threads of resilience and passion, each hardship a stepping stone paving her path to a future radiant with promise. Kamal’s story is not just one of survival, but a testament to the indomitable human spirit that thrives in the face of adversity
This program empanelled with us, serves as a crucible of hope for young girls who have weathered the storms of abuse, neglect and abandonment. It stands as a testament to the power of nurturing care, rekindling confidence, self-worth, and well-being in hearts that have known too much pain.
In the slums where dreams seem to fade, Neha Malhaur, from a financially strapped and marginalized family devoid of basic amenities like water, sanitation, healthcare, and education, decided to pave a way for herself. Despite the weight of poverty bearing down on her, she soared to remarkable heights, securing an outstanding 88% in her 12th-grade board exams in 2023. In the face of scarcity, her triumph stands as a testament to the power of unwavering resolve and the boundless potential that resides within every soul, regardless of circumstance.
She says “This support room is my second home, my new family where I got to know the importance of education and aspects of life I had never known. Not only this, It has taught me humanity which everyone should have, and changed my stereotypical thinking about gender. Gradually I am becoming a confident and independent girl. Every day I get to know and learn. Thank you so much for loving me and giving me a wonderful educational platform.”
This project operates support rooms in some of the most socio-economically marginalized communities in Uttar Pradesh, which are deprived of basic amenities and human rights. They provide educational support, practical exposure and constant personalised guidance that can change the course of a child’s entire life.
Besides, it also covers know-how on child rights, health, hygiene, nutrition, gender awareness and equality, communication, etiquettes, and a number of support learnings that help them dream big and achieve bigger.
CTA was enacted in 1871 and it bracketed the tribal communities as ‘Born Criminals’. Under this act the communities who used to live a nomadic lifestyle were restricted, and their movement constantly monitored. Moreover their traditional means of livelihoods were snatched and the communities were put into detention centers-like settlements where they were economically exploited and restricted from all sorts of movement.
They were forced to adapt ‘settled’ way of living, and pushed away from forest resources which were their livelihood. Currently they either reside in their villages and earn through agricultural labor or have settled in bastis of cities with almost no realization of welfare mechanisms that ensure upward socio-economic mobility. Because of their nomadic lifestyle, the issue of documents and entitlements which are of utmost important, stand in a way as a big hurdle. Most community members lack important documents like Aadhar card, Ration card, Ayushman card, Birth certificate, Death certificate, Caste certificate, etc. that facilitate basic survival like food and nutrition through government schemes, schooling and education, healthcare, pension, financial relief, etc. And in case they do have these documents, in most cases they have errors in them. Systems to rectify these errors aren’t easily accessible. This lead to further deprivation. How can a child get admission in a school without a birth certificate or Aadhar card?
It was also realized that there are several reasons for the very frequent drop-outs of children. The community survives amidst the severe realities at their home (institutional violence, discrimination at school, workplace, lack of livelihood opportunities, police brutality etc.) that pushes children to go and collect scrap so that they too can contribute to the income of their family. Daily exploitation by the authorities and the mainstream creates an environment of trauma in these bastis. Because of this institutionalized trauma accompanied by the extremely deprived living conditions, mental health often takes a toll and the suicidal tendencies are seen to be noticeably high.
In several of these communities and more so among the De-notified tribes who carry a stigma of criminality, one can evidently sense extreme vulnerability. There have been several instances of people taking their own lives and almost everyone has been through suicide ideation. This includes everyone irrespective of age (sample size between 10-70 years) and gender.
Notice that in our daily language chamar, bhangi, kanjar are termed as abuses. Guess what, these are the names of these indigenous denotified tribes, which by the way have the original Indian genetic pool, with very less variation. So its ironic how they have been the oldest inhabitants of this land but the most vulnerable, deprived and exploited.
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