Mysterious Death of a Dalit Student in Bihar Sparks off Angry Protests

The student was found dead the morning after her mother had been refused permission to take her home

Kusmi Devi is an agricultural labourer from Bihar’s most oppressed Mahadalit Musahar community. She sent her16-year old daughter Dika to school, determined that Dika must not slave in the fields as her mother and foremothers had done. Dika studied in the Ambedkar Residential Girls’ School in Hajipur (Vaishali), one of the schools run by the Bihar Government for Dalit children. But Dika was killed, apparently between the night of January 6 and the morning of January 7– on the very premises of the school – in mysterious circumstances.

Testimonies of Dika’s mother and hostel mates raise questions about the role and responsibility of the school authorities in the murder. They also raise questions about the conditions inside such schools – conditions in which the students and their parents are not seen as deserving of dignity and rights. Was Dika killed to cover up sexual harassment? Are the Bihar police authorities seeking to hush up the matter? These are the questions many are asking.

On 6 January, Dika made a call to Kusmi, saying she was not well. Kusmi went, packing some homemade sweet sevai and phulki for her daughter. Dika, on meeting her, said, “Mai re, I want to tell you something but you’ll feel very bad. Please just take me home, I’m feeling very upset.” On being pressed by Kusmi to tell her what the matter was, Dika said that a teacher in the school called her into his office and offered to give her better marks if she did what Dika called ‘wrong things’ with her. Shocked by this, Kusmi wanted to complain, but Dika stopped her, saying that the teachers would beat her later if a complaint was made.

Kusmi then tried to take Dika home on another pretext. She told a teacher, “Dika is weak in maths, please let me take her home for a couple of months to get her special coaching in maths.” To Kusmi’s shock, the teacher roughed her up and threw her out, asking her, “Do you think your daughter is the only child in the school? Get out of the gate and don’t try to come back.” He reportedly flung her bag with the sevaiphulki across the office room. Kusmi, in tears outside the school gate, and full of fear for her daughter’s well-being, left.

Dika called her again in the evening. The conversation between mother and daughter took the form mother-daughter conversations often do, in which sharp anxieties and deep love are expressed in the everyday query, “What are you having for dinner?” that both asked each other. Dika told mother there was khichdi-chokha for dinner and she planned to eat and sleep, and Kusmi said she had made marsatka (wet rice) and bhujiya. That was the last time Kusmi ever heard her daughter’s voice.

The next morning, a vikas mitra (development volunteer) in her village told her that Dika was dead. As Kusmi says, “None of the teachers or the school guards called me – why did the school authorities not inform me, as was their duty?” Kusmi and her family rushed to the hostel, to find Dika’s body lying in a drain. The clothes, they say, were tattered, the body was covered with injuries all over, the mouth and nose were full of mud and dust. There appeared to be knife injuries on the face and hands and private parts. Kusmi said she could see Dika’s underwear stuffed into her body – when pulled out, congealed blood came out from her private parts. The police and teachers present had been keen to take the body away, but Dika’s schoolmates had forced them to wait for Dika’s family members to arrive.

Kajal, a young school mate of Dika’s, says, “There was uproar in the morning that something has happened to Dika. We saw Dika lying in a pool of blood. The two night guards Sanju Devi and Kaiser would not stop and help us with the body, no matter how much our seniors tried to call out to them for help. They just ran away and switched off their phones. When the Principal Indu Devi came, she wanted the body taken away for post mortem, but we didn’t allow them to take away the body till Dika’s parents arrived.”

Kusmi suspects that her daughter was raped before she was killed. The SP has been quoted in papers admitting that there was bleeding from the private parts that in the civil surgeon’s opinion this could have been caused by “injury from a sharp object” and that a “wooden cot was found at the spot.”

Kajal and her school friends have now launched a sustained struggle for justice for Dika. According to Kajal, “Guards allow young men from the NGO that cooks food for the students inside the school and hostel premises. If we protested this the guards would shout at us. Yet, if our brothers and fathers came to the school to meet us, the guards threatened to get them arrested and jailed. Women teachers as well as the Principal Indu Devi do not stay on the hostel premises at night.”

Nitish Kumar, the Chief Minister of Bihar, calls himself as an ambassador of girls’ schooling and women’s empowerment, and brands his Government as a champion of social justice. Dika’s death exposes the reality behind these tall claims. What kind of social justice is it when a school girl – defying centuries-old caste and gender oppression to assert her right to study – is reportedly assaulted and killed in a Government-run school?

Admission to Kendriya Vidyalayas and Navodaya schools is difficult to obtain, so most Dalit students rely on the Ambedkar schools and hostels in the State, which are notoriously in a state of neglect and disrepair. Dalit students have been raising demands for better upkeep and facilities, as well as basic human dignity in these schools for very long, without much response from the Nitish Kumar Government. A profile of CPI(ML) activist Manoj Manzil in The Wire last year had traced the struggles of Dalit students in Bihar for basic amenities like water and electricity in Ambedkar Avasiya Vidyalayas (Ambedkar Residential Schools) for which the agitating Dalit schoolboys were expelled. Discussing an agitation after the death of a Dalit school student by electrocution in the Ambedkar hostel at Katira in Bhojpur, Manzil had explained, “He was electrocuted in the bathroom. But we don’t look at it as an accident. The Dalit hostels are in a bad shape, the wiring was faulty, and they don’t release funds to fix them.”

This hostel had been subjected to arson and vandalism by the Ranveer Sena following the death of Ranveer Sena chief Brahmeshwar Singh – the restraint against the rioters shown by the Bihar police was defended by Nitish Kumar.

Even in Kendriya Vidyalayas, Dalit students in Bihar are subjected to the most blatant atrocities. Last October a video revealed upper caste students torturing and thrashing a Dalit student of a Kendriya Vidyalaya in Muzaffarpur (not far from Hajipur where Dika was killed).

The Chief Minister has so far been silent on the shocking murder of Dika Kumari, which ought at the very least have prompted a thorough and impartial probe into the state of Ambedkar schools and hostels in Bihar. Ram Vilas Paswan, a Central Government Minister, is the MP from Hajipur where the murder took place. But he too is yet to speak on the murder.

Sexual harassment of the kind narrated by Dika to her mother is seldom an isolated instance. Complaints will come to light only if a safe climate is created for an impartial probe. The schools and hostels should also be surveyed for the facilities and basic amenities including water, electricity, hygiene and safety available to students. Another aspect of the probe should be the conduct of administrators, teachers and staff towards students and their parents: the kind of high-handedness to which Dika’s mother was subjected is also symptomatic of the caste and class discrimination and indignity meted out towards the poor who seek education and social mobility.

There have been instances of Dalit girls pursuing education who have been killed in other states such as Rajasthan and Chaattisgarh. Last year, 17-year-old Delta Meghwal was killed in her hostel in Barmer, Rajasthan allegedly following sexual violence by a teacher.

In an appeal issued to the people of Bihar, Kusmi Devi said, “I work in the fields with a trowel and a sickle. But I wanted my daughter to study. I’m uneducated and poor but that did not stop my daughter Dika and I from dreaming of a future with dignity. That dream has been snatched from us. All I want is justice. I demand justice so that no other mother should be robbed so cruelly of her daughter.”

Students and women mostly from the poorest and most oppressed sections of rural Bihar have been coming out on the streets demanding Justice For Dika, but the images and news these protests are rarely if ever to be found in most of the national media, especially the electronic media.

In the demonstrations and marches in Bihar, Dika’s school and hostel mates have been most spirited and determined. The movement for Justice for Dika has decided that on Republic Day this year, memorial meetings for Dika will be held all over Bihar, and students of Ambedkar schools and hostels, as well as other schools and colleges will refuse to accept the sweets customarily distributed on the occasion. Republic Day marks day that the Indian Constitution came into force. What does it say of the state of the Republic when schools and colleges become killing fields for young girls like Dika Kumari in Bihar or so many more who dare to dream of education, dignity and equality?