Abuse of the lockdown

After I wrote the above few lines, I dug deeper and my hair suddenly stood on end. It seems the lockdown helped a nasty few have their way and exacerbate an already burning issue — the abuse of our little ones. Given the lockdowns and the curfews, the lack of scrutiny and policing seems to have helped the perpetrators, even emboldened them. And sadly, few of us seem to care, even whilst all of us know what is happening, what is at stake, how lives are being nipped in the bud and ruined.

Get a load of these few glaring examples, all from just the last two days, in just one newspaper, at the time of writing this column. Seema, 16 years old, missing for the last 129 days. Neha, 15 years old, last seen 40 days back. Ghanshyam, 11 years old, missing for 28 days. Reshma, 15, seen near her neighborhood bazaar 64 days back. Kumkum, 15 years old, ventured out to buy milk and bread eight days back, and never returned. Kajal, 24 years old, missing for three weeks now. They were all either donning a 'salwar kameez', shorts or T-shirts, and household slippers. And all, when last seen, sported innocent, cherubic smiles.

Where are they?

Where are these kids today? This is something that the nation should surely want and need to know, right? No. Somehow, there is a deafening silence on the issue, an innate national apathy on the matter. There is no chorus or cacophony to find out where and how India's missing youngsters are, or whence and why they disappeared. Even the anguished cries of the desperate parents have now been rendered silent and unreported, even as newspaper upon newspaper carries classified ads, labelling them as 'missing' or 'kidnapped'.

No one is asking the basic question — why are so many children suddenly missing or kidnapped, especially through and after the lockdown? Sure, this used to happen before as well. But the acceleration since the lockdown is as scary as it is frightening and numbing. Unlike what our once very vociferous and now perhaps falling anchor still claims every day at 9 pm, this situation betrays something different — this nation doesn't want to know. For clearly, the novel Coronavirus apparently does not affect just our lungs and respiratory parts. Other body parts are at play as well. The 'dragon's bite' seems to have hit hard and brought out some basic instincts, ridding us of our most humane of characteristics. A basic question remains; why are an increasing number of India's children missing, the young, the gullible, the impressionable? Why are classified ads full of pictures of 'Missing', 'Kidnapped' and 'Last Seen'? What's happening?

Scary, basic math

A quick internet search reveals some startling numbers. So alarming, in fact, that even the BBC recently reported that one child is being 'lost' in India every eight minutes. A further, simple mathematics calculation computes that at 7.5 per hour. That's 180 lost youngsters going untraceable in our country each day. Remember, that's also 180 families stunted, numbed and devastated. Forever. Annually, that missing number moves into high five digits, 65,700.

And these are just the reported numbers. Analysts say actual numbers could be as high as three-four times these reported figures. That's because either parents don't report the disappearance, either out of hope of getting the little one(s) back, or fearing social stigma and being ostracised, or just through plain anguish and fatigue. Fatigue, because the authorities (read the police) just won't register cases, both because they know they will run up their list of unsolved crimes, or because they know, beforehand, who the perpetrators are. Whew!

And we thought COVID-19 is dangerous! Perhaps therein lies the answer to the conundrum that confuses many an Indian today — why are my fellow-men suddenly not scared of the dreaded COVID-19 pandemic? Why are many of us now roaming the streets with impunity, with absolute disregard to the most basic of protective measures of safety and sanitisation? Because at every corner lurks a marauder?

Back to the missing

Some frightening questions, then, beg to be asked. What's happening to the 65,700 children reported missing each year? Where are they? Where do they end up? Analysts and experts believe most are trafficked as part of a nationwide racket. Over years, lakhs and millions have been thrust into forced labour, domestic slavery and sex work. And as the numbers have increased, the 'industry' has become lucrative. So much so, that the trot at first turned into a canter and is now an outright gallop. Paradoxically, the lockdown and the forced lack of policing during that time, as the authorities had various other responsibilities, have helped in the acceleration of numbers. Impunity reigned, and the marauders ruled. They continue to.

But are all the little ones coerced? Kidnapped? Not always. Children go missing for a slew of reasons. It is not just strangers who do a grab and run, there are also abductions and kidnappings by family members themselves. We have children who run away, either intentionally or those who are forced to, given compelling situations in the family and surroundings; like an oft-drunk father who repeatedly abuses children, or societal or scholastic incubations that finally take birth and manifest themselves in a little mind deciding that out is right. Till reality sinks in… But, by then, it is too late.

Poverty has a part to play too in the disappearances of children. And we have it aplenty in India now, worse than ever, given the cascading triple-whammy of demonetisation, GST implementation and COVID-19. Destitution is not pretty. And half of our minors live in total penury. Admit it, that looking for a missing child requires time and resources, and our police force is stretched on these fronts. There are enough other evils to conquer and bellow at. The few reported cases, then, fall by the wayside, akin to the same guttural state of existence that the children are already in.

We are not alone

Is it a saving grace that we are not alone in this malaise? No. But this, nonetheless, is a worldwide scourge now, for more than a while. Kenya. Turkey. The United States. Russia. Ukraine. Uzbekistan. Germany. Italy. Pakistan. Bangladesh. Myanmar. It is a long and ever-saddening list, a virtual and parallel pandemic. One that tells us what the world is turning into, as more and more lose their livelihoods and move to paths unexplored and un-thought of before.

Crime is increasing. Unfortunate, but not surprising, because it pays well. And the payments amount to dividends and bonuses unheard of in our professional, lawful lives. So, the situation initially thrives, then it festers, and it worsens. We are clearly losing our basic humanity at the altar of survival and sustenance in some very bleak times.

There's hope, though. Feeble sure, but hope nonetheless, in the social media. Activists and crusaders are increasingly taking to it, in India and around the world, to find the missing children before they are lost forever. Volunteers who used to normally hit the streets to search for missing children are now turning to the net, especially given the pandemic and global fears. Digital posters of missing youngsters are now being shared online regularly, worldwide. And globally, non-profits and volunteers hope to pair with a watchful community to find those who are missing and return them to their homes.

Me?

I am tired. Angry. Wounded countenance and bluster aside, how long can I emotionlessly ignore these repeated public announcements of our youngest disappearing? Who is going to ask what the bloody hell has happened, and will surely continue to? Remorselessly, with no fear of whiplash or repercussions... Why and how are we turning lawless and compassion-less as a people? Someone, somewhere, reading this, should start a crusade. I don't know how to. But the better-endowed should take up cudgels, and I will be there with you, shoulder to shoulder. Pushing, cursing, cussing and shouting all the way. If that's the only way to wake up those who have the power and authority to do something about this, bring it on.

The writer is a communications consultant and a clinical analyst [email protected]