An insider view of West Bengal’s fight against human trafficking

A police officer explains how law, community support, and thorough investigation help tackle trafficking in one of India’s most affected states.Kolkata, West Bengal: West Bengal, with its 38 Anti-Human Trafficking Units (AHTUs), has faced the brunt of trafficking in the country. According to the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB), 58,871 individuals were reported missing in the state in 2022, of whom 53,655 were women. That year, 12,455 children were also reported missing, and there were 67 registered incidents of human trafficking involving 78 victims. The conviction rate in such cases stood at 55%. In the Sundarbans, back-to-back cyclones like Amphan and Yaas, rising sea levels, and deepening poverty have driven large-scale migration, leaving women, children, and other vulnerable groups particularly at risk.The officer interviewed has been part of this fight for nearly a decade. Her entry into anti-trafficking work began almost incidentally: “As a woman police officer, I was often given cases of missing or kidnapped women. I worked on tracing and rescuing them, investigating cases, and filing chargesheets.” In 2016, she was posted to the Protection of Women & Children (POWC) Cell of the Criminal Investigation Department, specifically in the Anti-Human Trafficking Unit, after earlier postings in general and women’s police stations. That was the turning point in her career, leading her into a series of training programmes organised by the state government for officers selected for AHTUs. These programmes, she explains, brought together police officers, NGOs, lawyers, and public prosecutors. The idea was to train police in trafficking laws, highlight how traffickers exploit loopholes, and build skills in conducting rescues, gathering evidence, and coordinating with agencies for survivor rehabilitation.According to her, trafficking cases often start as kidnapping cases, and it is crucial to remain vigilant during the first few months when signs of trafficking begin to emerge. The trainings also highlighted the importance of survivor counselling and reintegration, as well as precautionary measures to prevent re-trafficking.Rescue mapThe process of identifying and rescuing victims has changed over time, she said. Earlier, without mobile phones and digital trails, officers relied entirely on visiting villages, questioning families and acquaintances, and cultivating sources among pimps and local contacts. “We would gather photos of missing girls and ask our sources to identify them. It was painstaking and slow,” she says. A major challenge was that trafficked girls were often altered so much in appearance and behaviour that even families struggled to recognise them.The officer told 101Reporters about one particularly difficult case where a girl had been missing for months before a complaint was lodged. By then, her name and appearance had been completely altered. “A girl can vanish from her village and reappear far away, almost untraceable but there are always small clues if you know how to look,” the officer said. In such cases, persuasion rather than outright force is most often the trafficker’s tool.With the rise of mobile phones and social media, investigative methods have shifted. Officers now examine call detail records, deleted messages, and online activity, and use digital forensics to establish how girls are lured. They also deploy decoy customers and plainclothes officers for surveillance. “Rescuing girls from traffickers is extremely difficult. These dens are run by people who will go to any lengths to conceal the victims. Girls can be hidden inside water tanks or other unlikely places, and if word gets out that the police are on their way, the victim is often moved,” she said. “Careful planning is what ensures the success of the operation. If the planning is solid, the rescue will be successful,” she added. The official said that the Immoral Trafficking Prevention Act empowers the police to request closure of buildings housing brothels. “Our aim is not only to rescue one girl but to dismantle the operation. For that, groundwork and proper evidence collection are essential. Preventing bail is often the biggest hurdle.”Post-rescue, ensuring the safety of survivors is another battle. Girls often cannot distinguish between threats and genuine help because of the psychological manipulation they endure in brothels. Social workers play a critical role in establishing trust.Social skills“The social workers who accompany us during the rescue help us in engaging with the rescued girls. These girls are often so deeply traumatised that they struggle to tell who is lying and who is telling the truth. They lose the ability to distinguish between the police, the pimp, a well-wisher or a threat. Trust becomes impossible,” she explained.The official added that social workers are skilled in breaking the ice and slowly helping the girls open up and share their story.  Minors are placed under the care of the Child Welfare Committee (CWC) and housed in affiliated homes, while adult survivors come under the supervision of District Social Welfare Officers. Direct release to families is rarely appropriate, given the risks of stigma, self-harm, or re-trafficking.Prosecution and compensation add further layers of difficulty. While the police submit petitions for compensation on behalf of survivors, the process is handled by the District and State Legal Services Authorities. Courts may also direct compensation. In trial, delays and trauma affect witness testimonies—sometimes survivors no longer wish to recount their experiences by the time cases come up. Independent witnesses are important but can also weaken over time. Establishing financial transactions in sex trafficking cases remains particularly hard, since most dealings are unrecorded.“By the time the survivor is called to testify, she may have forgotten key details or may have moved on with her life and may not want to revisit the trauma. That is why we emphasise having independent witnesses. But even they may forget important details or lose the empathy they had during the rescue,” she added.For rescue operations in other states, the team ensures that independent witnesses—often NGO workers—accompany them so their testimony will stand up in court. “Most people are unwilling to set foot in the localities where raids are conducted, and local residents rarely agree to testify. That is why independent witnesses are important,” she said.Rehabilitation, the officer says, is the most challenging aspect. Survivors face stigma, loss of community acceptance, and must cope with trauma. Efforts to reintegrate them involve block and district administrations, welfare officers, and NGOs. Some survivors who have been successfully rehabilitated now participate in awareness campaigns in schools, speaking about their own experiences. “Neither the police nor the civil administration can manage alone. Both must work together for rehabilitation,” she added.  She has also observed important shifts in trafficking patterns. Since the COVID-19 pandemic, traffickers rely much more on social media, building online friendships with girls that progress to manipulation and deception. Another recent trend involves the recruitment of both girls and boys into dance troupes performing at weddings, where they are confined, exploited, and made to work under harsh conditions. Delayed reporting by families and the withholding of crucial information due to social stigma remain persistent challenges that undermine police efforts in the crucial early days.Reflecting on her experience, the officer advises young recruits in this field to cultivate empathy. “If you see it as just another case, you will miss its larger social impact. This work is not just about rescue but also about prevention. By building networks with NGOs, schools, and communities, officers can intervene early.” In schools, she said, simply sharing an officer’s contact number can give vulnerable girls a lifeline.This story was produced for and originally published as part of the Crime and Punishment project in collaboration with Vidhi Centre for Legal Policy. Cover Photo - Representative image/ AI-generated using Canva

Stories, sketches and colour zones: ex-prisoners decode jail life to benefit new inmates

Second Chance Fellowship and U-Turn Programme sensitise inmates on the need to support each other emotionally, while also assessing their own mental state  New Delhi: When Akhilesh Bharti (19) was returning to Delhi after a trip to Haridwar and Raipur in February 2017, little did he know that his world was about to turn upside down.As the train pulled into the Nizamuddin Railway Station in South Delhi that morning, Bharti and his friend gathered their belongings and walked towards the exit. On the platform, Crime Branch Police surrounded them suddenly, took away their phones, and handcuffed and bundled them into a police van. A thousand questions ran through Bharti’s mind. He was slapped into silence when he asked why they were arrested and where they were being taken.At the Malviya Nagar Crime Branch headquarters, officials told a dazed and sobbing Bharti that they would ask him a few questions and release him. He was separated from his friend and taken to a different room, where policemen in plainclothes questioned him about his whereabouts before and during the trip. He answered all the questions and asked to see his family. He was assured that he would meet his family soon.That night, while having dinner, he heard loud cries from the adjacent room and realised that his friend was being beaten. “Am I next?” he wondered as he lost his appetite. Though he was never beaten, he remained frozen with fear the entire time.The next morning, they were presented before a senior police officer and made to sign papers. “It was all written in English. I could not understand what the papers said. I was zoned out and signed the papers under pressure.”He noticed his friend's swollen face, which had several cuts. And abruptly, he was told that he was being taken to court and should inform his family. Still in a confused stupor, he called home and informed his father. Looking back, Bharti realises how tortuous it must have been for his family to locate him, as they had no idea which court he was being taken to and what time he would be there.Since he lived in Subhash Nagar in West Delhi, his family assumed he would be taken to the Tis Hazari court in the west zone. Instead, he was taken to Karkardooma court because he was arrested in Nizamuddin, which falls in a different zone. He spent all day waiting to be presented in court while wondering when his family would finally arrive.Bharti remembered that an elderly policeman took pity on him and allowed him to use his cell phone to call his family and inform them about his whereabouts. However, by the time his family’s lawyer arrived, Akhilesh had already been brought before the judge, who sent him to judicial custody.Around 8 pm, he was placed in a van and driven to Tihar jail. At this point, he learned the reason for his arrest. “The policemen told me that they found 60 kg of ganja in my friend’s bag,” he said.Akhilesh interacting with inmates (Photo - Puja Bhattacharjee, 101Reporters)Surviving the systemHe was handed over to a sewadar, an inmate, usually a convict, who helps the prison staff. “He displayed extreme aggression, reacting harshly even to simple inquiries,” recalled Bharti.In another room where he had to provide details for mulakaat (meeting with family), he took some time to respond, not knowing what mulakaat was. “Are you an orphan?" the sewadar yelled.When Bharti inquired how many names he should list, the sewadar retorted, “Give me the names. I will decide who to list.”He was then searched thoroughly “using many machines”, followed by a humiliating strip search.He stated that mental health would begin to deteriorate as soon as a person entered prison. The lack of answers leads to significant frustration, loss of sleep and appetite. Around 60 inmates are crowded into a single cell. New arrivals are isolated for the first two months to help them acclimate to prison life.He was most shocked when a brawl erupted between two rival gangs one afternoon in the canteen. “All the inmates were immediately locked up for the whole day,” said Bharti.An even more violent fight erupted the same night. Sirens wailed as the prison staff and sewadars hurried around. All inmates were confined to their wards for the following days.“Eight to ten boys would gang up and beat one boy. Seeing it happen, I felt so helpless,” he said. Many boys would wear a bloody face, blackened eyes. In severe cases, they have their cheeks slashed with blades.The worst part was that there was no redressal. “If you complained to the authorities, the retaliation would be severe. Jail staff cannot save you,” he said.Bharti slowly sank into a deep depression. No case update, uncertainty about the next court date, and not being able to see his family added to his mental agony.Fortunately, he got support from his fellow undertrials, who encouraged him to have hope. “We went for walks, and they shared their experiences. We bonded over our lives outside prison,” he said.The latest Prison Statistics India indicates a troubling 22% increase in mentally ill inmates. As of July 2021, 21 out of 28 states have no psychologists or psychiatrists in prisons, resulting in only one psychologist or psychiatrist for every 16,503 prisoners.Turning prison pain into reformDuring this time, Bharti also met members of the Turn Your Concern Into Action (TYCIA) Foundation, an organisation dedicated to criminal justice issues.In 2017, Sudhir Yadav, the then Director General of Tihar jail, invited TYCIA Foundation co-founder Mohit Raj to discuss potential interventions for the young male inmates aged 18 to 21 in jail no 5 of Tihar jail. After assessing the needs of 600 inmates, it provided recommendations that led to the birth of Project Second Chance in April 2017. It identified incarcerated individuals who are on the path of reformation and are about to be released soon.“We enrol them in our Second Chance Fellowship programme. As fellows, they identify a systemic issue that they wish to work on,” said Raj.The fellows use their prison experience to develop innovative ideas for positive change. “One of our findings was that credible people already exist inside the prison. They are on the path of reformation and have the potential to reform other prisoners as well. We need to create opportunities for them to become changemakers inside the system.” Under the programme, two sets of fellows — an ex-prisoner and a young professional with expertise in criminology, law or sociology — come together and participate in a full-time fellowship to design solutions for prison reform.In 2020, after securing bail, Bharti joined the Second Chance Fellowship programme. Due to his personal mental health challenges and the absence of assistance, Bharti devised a strategy to assist inmates with mental illnesses. He charted a prisoner's emotional progression from day one using stories and sketches. He then created training materials to educate inmates on supporting each other's emotions.In 2017, when Bharti was in jail as an undertrial, it was difficult to access a mental health counsellor. Though the counsellor was supposed to see inmates between 10 am and 5 pm, they often came late or in the second half. “Every day, around 30 of us lined up, and we got around 30 minutes to an hour with the counsellor. I tried for a few days and then gave up,” he said.Bharti now leads the U-Turn programme as a Second Chance fellow in Dehradun District Jail, Sudhowala, Uttarakhand. Under this programme, the prison staff helps the TYCIA Foundation select inmates who display leadership qualities. “These inmates counsel new ones within 24 hours to help break myths surrounding prison life. Those with existing mental health issues are given extra support,” Bharti detailed.In the next step, the new inmates are informed about potential aspects of prison life and upcoming challenges, such as preparing for their first court date and navigating prison facilities.Bharti, along with another fellow, has created stories through illustrations that depict different aspects of prison life, starting from the inmates' entry through the prison gates. The inmates are given these stories and asked to match them with the corresponding emotions the situation might evoke.“For example, if the story depicts an inmate’s upcoming court date, they will match it to feeling hopeful,” said Bharti. The purpose of this activity is to help prisoners express their emotions, which, if kept bottled up, may lead to aggression and self-harm.The third aspect is a workshop on anger management, conflict resolution and self-care. The floors are marked in different colours, such as blue, green, orange, red and yellow, in the shape of footprints, for this activity. The inmates are asked to stand on the floor with their eyes closed and take a step forward if their emotions are positive and step backwards if they register negative emotions.“For example, if the question is, ‘How did you feel after first coming to prison?’ and they lost appetite or sleep, they would step backwards,” he explained.After all the questions are asked, the inmates can open their eyes and see which colour zone they are in. Inmates in the green and blue zones are in a stable mental state, whereas orange and red signify disturbed emotional and mental states. Yellow falls in between.“Following this exercise, we hold a discussion where inmates in the green and blue zones are asked what actions they took to help themselves. They are then given a checklist to record their emotions daily to see if things are improving,” he said.  These discussions help the red and orange zone people understand how they can help themselves, learning from the strategies employed by the green and blue zone people.  There are challenges, though. As the resources at their disposal are limited, they cannot keep a check on everyone individually. When inmates display extreme negative emotions and a tendency for self-harm, they are referred to the prison medical department.According to Bharti, inmates need support from someone who understands their situation and has experience within the prison system, as prisoners cannot be fully honest about their situations with someone outside the prison.U-turn also informs prisoners of all the good things available inside the jail, such as games, libraries, computer education, and facilities to teach fellow inmates, which helps break down negative thoughts and inspire positivity. This programme is being expanded to prisons across Bihar, Haryana, Uttar Pradesh, and Rajasthan. Now targeting ten more prisons, including Nuh prison, Haridwar prison and other prisons in Uttarakhand.Though the approach to addressing prison issues is innovative, it is not without challenges. "Institutionalising the interventions is crucial for their success. The initiatives designed by our fellows can only scale to the level they deserve if the prison department adopts and adapts them,” said Raj. “We are addressing this by creating standard operating procedures in a way that the government can adopt them in the future. Our goal is to institutionalise these initiatives.”The foundation tried to conduct this programme in Tihar jail no 5, where Bharti was lodged, but did not get access as they do not grant entry to undertrials. Bharti stays in touch with his friends from Tihar jail and hopes to get them involved in Project Second Chance.This story was originally published as a part of Crime and Punishment project in collaboration with Vidhi Centre for Legal Policy. Cover Photo - Representative image/ AI-generated using Canva

West Bengal’s jute industry struggles to recover from effects of lockdown

Jute transportation in Baduria Bazaar, North 24 Parganas, West Bengal (Photo credits- Biswarup Ganguly, Wikimedia)Since September last year, representatives of the jute industry have been appealing to the Centre to reconsider some of their decisions that have had alarming effects on their businessKolkata: Kamal Shaw is a 44-year-old worker at Alliance Jute Mill in Jagatdal, in West Bengal’s North 24 Parganas district. He operates the heavy machinery that processes raw jute into yarn and cloth to manufacture the sacks used in the packaging industry. He earns between Rs 350-400 every day on the basis of the work he does. Shaw is among over three lakh workers employed in the jute mills across West Bengal, most of which are located along the banks of the Hooghly River in the district of Howrah, Hooghly, and North 24 Parganas. In fact, of the 94 jute mills in India, 70 are in West Bengal. The state caters to nearly 66% of the country’s jute requirements, as well as around 80% of all its jute packaging needs. Annually, the centre and various agencies countrywide procure 10 to 12 lakh tons of jute bags worth Rs 5,500 crore to package food grains and sugar from this east Indian state.As is evident, the jute industry is a major source of revenue and employment in West Bengal. Besides contributing Rs 6,500 crore to the state GDP, it has more than 40 lakh jute farmers involved in the business, in addition to the three lakh workers employed at the mills. A pandemic-hit industryLike most other fields around the world, the pandemic had adverse effects on the once-thriving jute industry of Bengal. “Around the fag end of the last season, around 13 to 14 mills closed down sporadically due to a scarcity of raw material,” said Raghavendra Gupta, chairman of the Indian Jute Mills Association (IJMA). “The lockdown was announced during the sowing season of March-April. And once restrictions were eased, a large part of our jute-growing areas were hit by Cyclone Amphan. Both took a major toll on the crop size.”In 2020-21, the production of raw jute was a record low of 58 lakh bales, in a country where its consumption usually touches 85 lakh, Gupta said, adding, “There wasn’t any carryover at the beginning of 2021-22. Even though jute is a robust crop, we’re feeling the scarcity of the fibre without any carryover.” With mills closed, workers like Shaw were left without a source of income. Though Shaw was fortunate that his wife, a school teacher, and his mother, a mid-day meal cook, retained their jobs during that time. Many weren’t as lucky. A seemingly apathetic governmentThe jute industry of West Bengal primarily supplies its produce to the government of India for food grain packaging. The price of these bags saw a corresponding rise with the spiking rates of raw material. As a result, the union government passed an order in September 2021 to cap the prices of raw jute and B-Twill (the gunny bags used to package food grains) at Rs 6,500 per quintal. However, the market price of raw jute, as well as its price in Bangladesh, is around Rs 7,200 per quintal, which is why the “industry is forced to buy it at higher prices to keep the mills running”. Hence, the IJMA appealed to the government a number of times to review the price cap and increase it to Rs 7,200, “to allow for a situation where the mills would not lose money”, the IJMA chairman said.  When representatives of the association met Textile Minister Piyush Goyal on December 13, they were told that the government could not take their proposal into consideration. The IJMA also appealed to Prime Minister Narendra Modi in January.“The scenario is extremely critical as we are not getting compensated for the prices at which we are purchasing jute for the bags. And as far as profitability is concerned, it’s a very difficult situation,” he added.Local economy and labourSomenath Shyam Ichini, the MLA from Jagatdal, a hotspot for jute mills, said that due to the wide gap between the sale and purchase rates, jute mill owners in the area weren’t interested in running their factories at the moment.  “One jute bag costs around Rs 65-75, whereas a plastic bag costs only Rs 21. The central government has allowed the use of plastic bags for sugar, so the [jute mill] owners say they don’t have orders. What would they do by making these products? The jute industry is deprived in many ways,” Ichini said.  He highlighted another problem — the shortage of labour: “Earlier, labourers from Bihar, Uttar Pradesh and Odisha used to come to work in the jute mills here because the salaries were high. But now, the mills run only for two shifts.” Given the dependence of the state as well as local economy on the jute industry — like that of Jagatdal — the MLA warned that they are on the brink of collapse: “The local economy here is based on the jute industry. There is no second source of income.”Additional troublesCompanies that manufacture jute products, too, have felt the effects of the pandemic. Pankaj Agarwal, marketing head of Ludlow Jute & Specialities Limited, said that due to the Covid-19 outbreak, their factory had remained closed for two months and ran at a lower capacity on reopening. “Because of the pandemic, we lost a lot of our export and local business,” he said, adding that they had no help from the government in terms of policies. “We had to cope with the situation ourselves.” In October 2020, the Cabinet Committee on Economic Affairs, chaired by the Prime Minister, approved a mandate of packaging of 100% of food grains and 20% of sugar in jute bags. Under the Jute Packaging Materials (Compulsory Use in Packing Commodities) Act 1987 (JPMA), the government is required to consider and provide for the compulsory use of jute packaging materials for supply. Under unusual circumstances, the central government can allow the use of plastic bags as an alternative for up to 30% of the total requirement for food grains. Now, the fate of the 70 jute mills in West Bengal, which employ around 43 lakh people directly and indirectly, depends on the JPMA. But in November, a notification was issued on increasing the GST rates on jute products from 5% to 12%, worsening their plight. “Jute is a biodegradable, environment-friendly product. We face stiff competition from synthetic substitutes because the upfront costs associated with jute production are higher. So we put forth a plea asking the union government to reconsider its decision to increase the GST on jute products, ” said Gupta.  Future prospectsWhile the situation on ground may be in dire straits, the global outlook for the jute industry looks rather positive. According to a recent report by Research and Markets, the global jute bag market was valued at $2.07 billion in 2020 and is projected to touch $3.1 billion by 2024, with consumers looking for alternatives to single-use plastic. Ranajoy Bhattacharyya, an economics professor at the Indian Institute of Foreign Trade, asserted that there was “no immediate threat” to the production of jute goods, since it’s been stable over the past few years — though it has reduced rapidly in its influence over the past few decades.  Between April and December 2020-21, more than 20,000 million tonnes of raw jute worth Rs 120 crore was exported. And according to Gupta, the value of jute exports is an estimated Rs 2,000 crore annually, which roughly translates to 15 per cent of their turnover. “The jute shopping bag segment of the industry is showing year-on-year growth,” he said on the future prospects of the industry. “It was disrupted due to the Covid-19 scenario, but it shows promise for the years to come.”  Although Bhattacharyya is optimistic about the “bright future” of the jute industry, thanks to its organic credentials, he cautioned against the “abysmal” innovation in the field, which he fears may lead to its eventual demise. “As a result, cheaper versions of jute bags capable of replacing at least a part of the highly toxic plastic bags have not been created,” he said on the lack of research, development and innovation in the jute industry.