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The road to Canning, a town in the southernmost region of the Indian state of West Bengal, is narrow and lined on both sides with small ponds where residents breed fish. The houses along the route are mostly single-story mud dwellings with thatched roofs. Canning is the site of a compound belonging to the NGO Goranbose Gram Bikash Kendra, which fights human trafficking and is known locally as GGBK. On a December afternoon, a group of 30 women had gathered at the compound, some of them wearing brightly colored sarees, others in suits. All of them had come for a common purpose: to train in self-defense. | The criminals who abduct and traffic human beings often hail from the same communities as their targets. | Human trafficking is among the most profitable criminal activities worldwide, and the second most common form of organized crime in India, after the sale of illicit drugs. In West Bengal, trafficking is rampant and primarily targets women who then face sexual exploitation. The state shares long and porous borders with Bangladesh, Bhutan and Nepal, and a range of socioeconomic factors, including poverty, fuel human trafficking across the region. West Bengal serves as both a destination and a conduit for such trafficking. Notably, the criminals who abduct and traffic human beings often hail from the same communities as their targets. And when survivors are rescued and rehabilitated — if they are rescued and rehabilitated — one of the major problems they face is the continued threat from their trafficker. “I would not leave home even during the day. If I would go out, I would always take someone along,” said Anjali Sharda, 21, a trafficking survivor and now a leader at GGBK. “The fear of the trafficker would always loom over my head. A few times he threatened me too. I was weak and scared, but now I am ready to face my fears.” Four years ago, Sharda was trafficked by a man known to her family. He had assured the family that he would place her in a stable job where she would receive a good salary and accommodations. Then, he sold her to a brothel in Delhi for some 60,000 Indian rupees, or about $725. Three months later, she was rescued by police with the help of GGBK. |
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The women gathered in an open lawn encircled by a fence and overhanging palm trees. They began slowly, with warm-up exercises. Then the trainer loudly asked how they respond to an attack on their upper bodies. All the women in unison shouted that they had to defend themselves. Then the trainer demonstrated a punching technique. “I am getting trained so that I can feel secure and walk with pride,” said Sharda, who had brought her two-year-old son to the training. She sat down in a red plastic chair beside a fragrant Tulsi bush and cradled her son on her left arm while feeding him. | I am capable of breaking the bones of that man now. - Anjali Sharda, 21, a trafficking survivor and now a leader at GGBK | “In our villages, it’s common for a husband to beat his wife. If I come across such a situation, I can also protect another woman and help her to be safe. I am capable of breaking the bones of that man now,” she said with a laugh. After Sharda was rescued from the Delhi brothel, her family immediately arranged a marriage for her upon her arrival home. It took months for her to come to terms with what had happened in her life. Nihar Ranjan Raptan is the head of GGBK. Raptan explained that the organization works closely with survivors of trafficking and their family members. It was through conversation with survivors that the NGO developed the self-defense initiative. “When I saw a lot of women not able to come out of their fear, I thought, I need to do something. I discussed it with my team at GGBK and that’s when the idea struck me,” said Raptan, who has been working as an anti-trafficking activist for three decades. Hasina Kharbhih is the founder of the Impulse NGO Network, a human rights alliance based in the northeastern Indian city of Shillong. Kharbhih is considered a leading figure in the fight against human trafficking across India and Southeast Asia, and she said that her aim is to involve more people to work in a collective manner to combat human trafficking. She added that GGBK’s self-defense program was one example of a collective response. Yet Kharbhih also stressed that bolstering women’s physical defenses cannot be the only response to trafficking. She said she hopes to see self-defense training paired with initiatives to build their livelihoods. “It’s crucial to build the physical strength of women, especially trafficking survivors whose traffickers are existing within their own community. It gives that confidence to the women to fight back,” Kharbhih said. “But at the same time, we also need to look into strengthening their economy, so that they have choices.” |
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Deepa Mandal, 22, is the mother of a five-month-old girl and, like Sharda, had brought her baby to the training. The team at GGBK provides childcare while the mothers practice their new moves. | The food had been drugged, and the two young women fell unconscious. When they woke, they were on a train to Delhi. | Mandal was kidnapped by a local man who would sell a snack called chuski, similar to shaved ice, just outside her school. One day when Mandal left school with her friend, he offered them a couple free snacks. But the food had been drugged, and the two young women fell unconscious. When they woke, they were on a train to Delhi. They were able to pull the train’s emergency chain. Then they started shouting, and were rescued by police. “When people generally look at me, they make an assumption that I am weak,” Mandal told OZY. “I want to defeat this thought in the similar way as I did when I was trafficked.” She noted that, after her abduction, she returned to school and graduated. The vendor who had drugged and abducted her was arrested but subsequently released. He is no longer permitted to peddle snacks outside the school. Legal advocate Rahul Patra, who practices at the Alipore district court in Kolkata, works closely with survivors. Patra noted that initiatives like self-defense training and counseling play a key role in helping survivors emerge from the trauma and build their resilience — which they need in order to fight legal battles. “The legal procedure in such cases is too slow. At times it takes months to even file a first investigation report,” Patra said, noting that many survivors currently do not have the stamina to follow through with legal charges. Self-defense training, he said, “can strengthen them to take forward the legal battle.” Mandal said she will be enrolling her daughter in self-defense training as soon as she is old enough. “We need to save our future generations, and for that we must take these steps.” |
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