Monday May 28, 2012
Trapped after being forced to say 'I do'
By Aruna Kashyap
Scroll down to also read "The Only Good Reason to Have a Mass Wedding of Child Brides " ( A comparison of bad apples with bitter oranges, neither of which augur positively for India's girl child)
Punitive measures against girls forced into child marriages should not find a place in government policies, programmes and practices
Child brides are not criminals. They cannot be compared to children accused of committing crimes. Anyone who hears a story of a girl forced into marriage before she turned 18 will tell you that she had little choice in the matter. In fact, under Indian law, children convicted as juveniles cannot be disqualified from having access to any benefits or legal entitlements on the basis of their conviction. So why punish children who were forced to marry by closing the door on them?
The case of Ratnashri Pandey
Take the example of Ratnashri Pandey from Madhya Pradesh. Her family pressured her to marry soon after she passed her class nine examinations. Pandey told Human Rights Watch, “I didn't want to be married, but a girl's wishes are not respected. Everyone said I should get married…I got married.” Pandey never set eyes on the groom; not even his photograph. “I told my nana (mother's father) I wanted to study after marriage.”
She described her struggle to continue her education juggling household work, fighting with her husband and in-laws to delay pregnancy, and enduring insults and beatings because of her decisions. She separated from her husband because he started beating their young daughter, and eventually divorced him.
She completed her master's degree and worked as a teacher. But because the income was not enough to support both her and her children, Pandey dreamed of becoming a civil servant. Leaving her children in her parents' care, she went to another city, moved into a women's hostel, and started preparing for the State civil services examinations. Her parents spent nearly Rs.300,000 to help. She passed the preliminary examination in 2006. But State policy stopped her in her tracks a month before she was to sit the main examination.
The Madhya Pradesh authorities informed Pandey that she was ineligible to take the exam because she was married as a child, she said. She filed a case in the Madhya Pradesh High Court, which granted her permission to write the examination pending a decision on the merits of the case. She did not pass the first time. After another round of litigation, she sat the exam again in 2009. “I spent more time in courts than with my books,” she said. The Madhya Pradesh High Court upheld the government rule disqualifying applicants who had married as children. She appealed to the Supreme Court, and awaits the verdict.
Violates 2006 Act
India prohibits marriage for girls under 18 and boys under 21, and should do everything possible to prevent child marriages. But when children (usually girls) marry and prevention strategies fail, punitive measures aimed at “discouraging” child marriages victimise girls yet again. This approach contravenes a key principle of the Prohibition of Child Marriage Act, 2006: no penalty for girls forced into marriages.
There is almost no information on how many such small rules are embedded in regulations or other programmes throughout the country. But there is enough information to show that such an approach is not an aberration.
During the second Universal Periodic Review (UPR) which is the review of each country's human rights progress every four years before the U.N. Human Rights Council India earned high praise for its commitment to education. Other countries urged India to tackle the issue of child marriages and to advance opportunities for education and work for women. Reiterating its commitment to protecting the rights of women and children, India stated that its authorities exercised “greater consciousness” to integrate human rights concerns in every ministry's policies and programmes. The need for “greater consciousness” in responding to child marriages in the country is dire.
It's clear that what goes on even at the national level, excluding the victims of child marriages, goes well beyond Pandey's case. Indian health rights experts have documented at least two other well-known examples. The Janani Suraksha Yojana (JSY) programme sponsored by the Central government provides conditional cash transfers to women giving birth in health facilities and is linked to prenatal, in-hospital, and post-natal services.
In many States with better health indicators, though, the benefits exclude girls below 19 who are not from Scheduled Castes or Tribes and where the Central government limits the benefits to two live births. The impact of this discriminatory treatment is likely to be mitigated by the Janani-Shishu Suraksha Karyakram (Mother and Child Protection Programme), another new scheme that promises free in-hospital and referral services to all pregnant women. But it is too early to tell.
The Indira Gandhi Matritva Sahayog Yojana, which is the Central government's cash assistance programme to supplement pregnant and lactating women's nutrition and double up as maternity benefit, has identical restrictions. And weigh all this against stark data in a recent UNICEF report which says that 47 per cent of India's adolescent girls are underweight and 56 per cent of girls from ages 15 to 19 are anaemic. UNICEF calls this a “severe public health problem.”
In April, UNICEF released its world report card on adolescents. It showed that India has 243 million adolescents (ages 10 to 19) the highest number in the world. Another UNICEF report this year found that 47 per cent of women surveyed in India were married or in unions by age 18.
When the law against child marriages protects the mother and her child, it is appalling that key health and nutrition schemes for pregnant women leave out adolescent pregnant girls, affecting them and their newborns.
To be fair, the Central and State governments have dozens of schemes that “promote” girls, many of which are aimed at delaying marriage. But this is not enough.
Indian officials should develop a holistic response to tackle child marriages a rights-based approach to Central and State government action. Punitive measures against girls and women forced into child marriages should find no place in government policies, programmes, and practices. Central and State governments should adopt a clear policy of non-discrimination that includes married adolescents in all welfare, higher education, and employment efforts. Without such a coherent response, India will fail its child brides. It's time India's approach to child marriages moved beyond this punitive phase and matured.
(Aruna Kashyap is Asia researcher in the Women's Rights Division of Human Rights Watch.)
Monday, April 2, 2012
The Only Good Reason to Have a Mass Wedding of Child Brides
Indian girls are married off to avoid becoming prostitutes.By Jen Swanson
(Credit: Jen Swanson)
In a dusty village in the northwest Indian state of Gujarat last month, eight young brides, veiled in bright pink or red saris that covered their faces, took seats beside their grooms-to-be. Some were older men dressed in turbans with swords, others, like their brides to be, were just barely adults. Across the makeshift wedding hallbasically a large tent of mismatched fabricssat a row of 12 even younger couples, ranging in age from about 10 to 14, and one girl who was only 8. Before a crowd of about 2,000 guests who came from all over India for the historic event, these fresh-faced couples exchanged promise rings and an unspoken vow to love and protect each other as soon as they became of age. But, judging by their downcast eyes and awkward glances, these prepubescents would have rather called cooties on the opposite sex.
This scene seems like just the latest alarming incident in the country’s long and alarming history of condoning such marriages. India accounts for more than 40 percent of the world’s child-marriage cases, according to a recent UNICEF report. But, this wedding and betrothal ceremony is actually a welcome event. That’s because these girls are the youngest generation of the Saraniya community, a nomadic Indian tribe that had once traveled with the Maharaja, where the men had sharpened swords and made weaponry while the women had "entertained” the troops. When India achieved independence in 1947, the Saraniyas found themselves out of work, and for lack of options, returned to prostitution as a means to support their community.
Over time the community became dependent on the income from prostitution. Although the government had allotted the Saraniyas some land, the former entertainers didn’t know much about farming, especially daunting on land without water, working wells, or any sort of irrigation facilities. Faced with a drought and no work, the number of sex workers pushed into the hundreds as villagers recruited new girls into its fold at age 10 or 12. “If a daughter is not engaged or married by the time she’s 10 years old, she’ll be pushed into the flesh trade,” says Mittal Patel, secretary of Vicharta Samuday Samarthan Manch, an Ahmedabad-based NGO that works in the community. Often it’s the mothers who did the pushing, as the families were desperate for some income.
Patel first visited Vadia in 2006 and got to work making basic interventions on behalf of the villagers, petitioning the government to follow up on some of its empty promises of roads, houses, potable water, irrigation facilities, education, and new jobs, while helping the women qualify for certain government programs. While doing so, she noticed an interesting caveatgirls who were engaged or married were considered “hands-off” and managed to avoid joining the unmarried women in the village business.
Hence, the idea of a mass marriage, a common, cost-effective way to marry brides in rural India. The final hurdle was finding grooms. Men were not keen to marry Saraniyan girls, given their reputations. Even if they were virgins, they were considered tainted because their relatives might have been prostitutes. The NGO would not admit this, but it’s likely that offering a dowry, an illegal but still popular notion that involves the bride bringing money and expensive gifts to the groom’s family, may have won the men over.
Not everyone was happy about the idea, specifically the pimps used to making easy money off the girls. The pimps charge anywhere from 500-1000 rupees ($10 to $20) per night for a woman age 12 to20, according to Raju, a project manager at VSSM. Women older than 20, considered to be a ripe age, earn less. Since only 100 to 150 rupees ($2to $3) goes to the girl herself, the women are forced to borrow money, at high interest, from the pimps to make ends meet, hence a vicious cycle of sex and money-lending that’s basically impossible to escape. “People think that they are in the flesh trade, so they must be getting a handsome income,” says Patel. “But the truth is that they don’t even have [new] clothes, or basic amenities such as roads, houses, and water.”
As VSSM moved forward with the planning, the pimps threatened not just the organizers, but also the brides-to-be. Eight of the women backed out of the wedding altogether. But the majority of girls still chose to go through with the marriages, bolstered by various education and vocational outreach programs in the area, including a three-month embroidery course that VSSM runs in Vadia encouraging the girls to make crafts they can sell. Hemi, one of the brides married over the weekend, has an elder sister in the sex trade, Patel tells us. "But after studying and taking part in some of our programs, she said she didn’t want to be a prostitute.”
On Sunday, March 11, 2012, Hemi married a young man from Dideda, a neighboring village, and made plans to move in with his family. The wedding procession of village drummers and dancers gathered outside her house, a 10-foot by 10-foot straw-thatched hut shared with her mother and siblings, creating a festive mood. Yet Hemi, draped in an oversized sari that hides downcast eyes and henna-clad hands gripped nervously in her lap, suggests she did not look as pleased about the big day.
The organizers told reporters that Hemi was 22. Her brother Jagdish, who I met outside the family hut, told me she was 25. But despite the heavy rouge painted onto her childlike features, she did not look a day over 12 to me. Organizers did their best to keep contact between the brides and the media to a minimum, possibly because the brides were not quite 18. Clearly they wanted to sidestep the issue, for the greater good of getting the girls married and safely away from the pimps. For locals, sadly, her real age would not come as much of a shock anyway. In this area, child marriages are quite common, and an annual report recently published by UNICEF, states that 47 percent of women in Indian villages are married before they turn 18.
The sad fact is that in India, where a cocktail of female infanticide, dowry deaths, trafficking and domestic violence creates a toxic environment for women (the world’s fourth most dangerous country for women, in fact, after Afghanistan, the Democratic Republic of Congo, and Pakistan, according to Thompson Reuters foundation) social progress requires some Machiavellian thinking. Here girls are considered a disappointment from the minute they are born, if they are born at all2011 census results revealed that India is missing around 50 million women, according to estimates by the U.N. Population Fund, the result of a long-standing preference for sons and widely available technology like sonograms that make it easy for parents to abort girls. After their birth, things don’t get much better; girls are fed less than their brothers, taken to the doctor less frequently when they’re sick, left out of school and basically treated as a financial liability until they marry into a different household. The new bride is then expected to cook, clean, and bear sons.
Yet, in a world of bad choices, breaking the rules to allow the lesser of two evilsin this case, child marriage as opposed to prostitutionstill makes sense. None of today’s brides will likely remember the wedding as the happiest day of her life; few women in rural India do. Nor will the ceremony erase the social stigma that’s overshadowed her entire life and will continue to do so, or offer much autonomy in her new one. Still for a Saraniyan women, marrying young to break the cycle of prostitution is a step in the right direction, despite its ominous undertones, and much better than the alternative.