02 June 2015 Mumbai’s Dharavi slum is home to anywhere between 300,000 and 1 million people. Bhanuben was born and brought up here and knows the place like the back of her hand, and the challenges of surviving in this “teeming slum of 1 million souls”.
Acid attacks are an incredibly cruel and malevolent way to harm somebody for life – and often kill them. This is all-too-often occurence in India, and thankfully the government is finally taking steps to regulate the sale of the dangerous acid. Click the link to see details from the The Times of India.
This piece shows how broken the Indian justice system is when it comes to getting justice for rape survivors. Hipocrisy and misogyny runs deep in the process, causing some to equate the process of looking for justice as a “re-rape.” For a look inside the agonizing process, click the link below.
This is a fascinating, thorough piece on Suzette Jordan’s experience after being gangraped in Kolkata, and being termed ‘The Park Street Rape Victim.’ Her quest for justice included mazes of bureaucracy, unreliable police and doctors, and strategic use of the media. It is a sad exhibition of how difficult it is for survivors of rape to find justice.
With the recent string of violent rapes in West Bengal, civil society has gathered to protest in Kolkata. With the government showing how insensitive it is to issues of women’s safety, it is important that these protests continue in order to spread awareness and change mindsets.
In West Bengal lately, there have been multiple rapes and murders. And when citizens respond with peaceful protests, they get arrested. Rape culture is prevalent in many Indian settings, and politicians are not adequately responding. It is important for us to be aware of these issues in all corners of the country if we are going to create incremental change. This is a very thorough analysis of the rapes and rape culture in West Bengal:
Last December, a young woman we call “Nirbhaya” was so brutally assaulted and raped by six men on a bus that she died from her injuries two weeks later. She was barely older than my daughter Mira. Grieving, I looked for solace in student memories. I had resisted going to a women’s college at Delhi University, but a few years later at Mount Holyoke, a college for women in Massachusetts, I discovered a world where no one had to remind you to “lean in” because every woman already had her shoulder to the wheel and was moving the needle on everything from microbiology to challenging history with herstory. I was surrounded by women who wrote poetry, discussed politics, dismantled engines, designed buildings, managed newspapers, and danced for the joy of being able to do so. It was a world where women were not less than but equal to – a world, as the playwright Wendy Wasserstein put it, of “Uncommon Women.”