Kashmir's Unspoken Epidemic: Child Sex Abuse
Kashmir’s
children continue to suffer amid silence around child sexual abuse.
By Sana Fazili
In 2010, Nazia* was
in the eighth grade and final exams were nearing. On an early autumn day
in her school in Kashmir that year, students had gone out for the lunch break.
As a rule, no one was allowed inside during the break. But Nazia’s teacher
called her to a classroom on the top floor of the school building.
Over
a few weeks, Nazia and her teacher, who taught mathematics, had developed a
cordial relationship. They would often chat during the lunch break. But this
meeting, in a secluded classroom, seemed far from the normal chit-chat that
they used to have. She knew that something was wrong when the male teacher
grabbed her hand and pulled Nazia toward him. “It had never happened before and
I was frightened,” Nazia says.
It
took her a few moments to fathom what was happening. She managed to free
herself from his clutches and ran outside, crying.
Petrified,
she informed another teacher. Nazia was advised not to come to school for some
days and not to tell her parents about the incident. A few days later, the male
teacher was fired from the school.
From
a legal point of view, Nazia was a minor then and the act amounted to rape.
Yet, the school did not inform police about the incident, fearing it would
taint their reputation. Further complicating matters, the school in Budgam town
in central Kashmir was known for imparting religious teachings.
Nazia
was 14-years-old, vulnerable and impressionable. Judging the situation or
people beyond surface appearances never crossed her mind. “All I
understood [was] that the man loved me and wanted to be with me. I enjoyed his
company as well,” Nazia remembers, saying that she was too immature to
differentiate between love and lust.
The
man had initiated the relationship by talking to her at any given chance. The
attention made her feel good, as most would feel in their early teenage
years when showered with special attention. She couldn’t decipher her teacher’s
intentions.
After
her exams, Nazia never returned to the school. Her parents got her admitted to
another school, though her fear of the teacher turning up for revenge
lingered for a long time. She never had any assurance of safety nor did that
teacher face a deterrent.
“The
issue of child sexual abuse is being ignored in Kashmir. People are oblivious,
[thinking] that things like these [incidents] do not happen, particularly in
rural areas,” says Rayees Rasool, an activist who has been running awareness
campaigns for child sexual abuse in Kashmir.
Rasool
says that most of the cases are from rural areas and involve maulvis (the
religious teachers). Since the issue is still a taboo in Kashmir, not many
people come forward.
As
more and more cases involving teachers and maulvis come to
light, it seems that their position of power, along with people’s reluctance to
acknowledge the issue, is adding to the problem.
In
Muslim-majority Kashmir, most parents send their children to schools where
they get both academic and religious instruction. As a result, a chain of
private schools have inculcated religious teaching into the curriculum.
But
amid the race to be the best and to offer more subjects, schools are
missing out on making campuses safe for the children. Of late, many maulvis (religious
teachers) have been apprehended for committing sexual abuse of
children.
In
Bagh-i-Mehtab, on the outskirts of Srinagar city, locals hired a teacher to
teach Arabic and the Quran to children. Being well-versed in both subjects, he
also led the daily prayers in the local mosque. Out of respect and gratitude,
apart from a monthly salary, the maulvi was given free
accommodations in the area.
In
April 2016, a 10-year-old boy rushed out of the maulvi’s room
at noon — a time of the day when he sought solitude and did not allow his
pupils inside unless asked. This boy was seething with anger and in
tears. Something unexpected had happened… again.
The maulvi would
lure children with 20 rupees and sodomize them in his room. The practice had
been going on for a while. But it was only after the young boy’s revelation
that locals learned about it and moved into action.
“We
learnt about this shameful incident when few men of the locality saw a boy crying
and inquired. We were shocked to know that the maulvi was
sodomizing the boys,” says Mohammad Ameen, a resident of the locality.
The
maulvi was asked to leave immediately. Yet the police wasn’t involved. Why
not?
“It
would have been a shame and humiliating if others knew our young boys were
sodomized. Who would marry them?” says Ameen, invoking the social stigma
attached to the people who suffer sexual abuse in a conservative society
like Kashmir.
The
judiciary also provides no relief for the victims of child sexual abuse,
irrespective of their gender. The national act for protection of children from
sexual abuse, Protection of Children from Sexual Offenses (POSCO) Act 2012, is
yet to be implemented in Jammu and Kashmir. POSCO ensures a child-friendly system
for trials. It also puts an onus to report the case on people who have
knowledge of any case of child sexual abuse.
Adding
to the problem, schools in Kashmir do not give a special emphasis to sex
education or attempt to create awareness among students. It is thanks to
this silence around the issue that children suffer. Children also fear
repercussions from the school authorities in case they are proven wrong. The
naivety of age doesn’t allow them to think beyond that point.
Azra’s
13th birthday was few months away and she was already faced with stark
realities and the knowledge of her vulnerability, sadly by her teacher. The
first time he entered the class, she did not notice the peculiarity of his
gaze. But as days passed she became uncomfortable.
“That
man would stand in a corner and fix his eyes on me. Each time he entered the
classroom, I would hear my heartbeat. Such was the fear that it instilled in
me,” she says.
She
did not talk about it to anyone, because though she could sense the
discomfort, she did not know how to express it. His ogling eyes seemed to
follow her everywhere. Even under the shield of night, she could feel it
weighing her down.
“Every
time I decided to talk about it, I would hush myself, thinking that he isn’t
harming me physically. I did not know how to put it in words,” says Azra. She
did not know who to approach.
“Our
teachers always told us that we were grown up girls and would need to behave a
certain way. They gave us a code of conduct, but never encouraged us to open up
about such issues,” Azra adds. Though more than 10 years have passed since this
incident, but Azra says there are moments where she feels frustrated over the
helplessness that she faced then.
Even
years after facing sexual abuse, the trauma continues to haunt the survivors.
“It is not easy for survivors to overcome the mental trauma of incidents of
abuse,” says Musaib Omar. Omar is a social activist who working on a case of a
self-styled faith healer, Maulvi Aijaz. Aijaz has been accused of sexually harassing scores of
children in north Kashmir’s Sopore.
*The
names of abuse victims have been changed.
Sana
Fazili is a freelance journalist based in New Delhi, India.
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