The Hidden Tragedy: How Political Violence in West Bengal is Taking a Toll on Children

Over the past three decades, more than 565 children in West Bengal have been affected by crude bomb explosions, with many suffering severe injuries or death. This article explores the tragic connection between political violence and the lives of vulnerable youth in the region, highlighting personal stories and the systemic failure to protect them.

 

In the Indian state of West Bengal, a hidden tragedy unfolds as children increasingly become victims of crude bomb violence associated with political conflict. A recent investigation revealed that over the last 30 years, at least 565 children have been killed or injured by such homemade explosives, a consequence of ongoing political unrest and violence in the region.

The story of Puchu Sardar, a nine-year-old boy, typifies this grim reality. On a seemingly normal voting day in May 1996, he and friends stumbled upon a bag containing objects they thought were cricket balls. When Puchu struck one with his bat, it exploded, taking the lives of two friends and leaving him with life-altering injuries, including burns and shrapnel wounds. He spent a month in the hospital and returned home to face a grim reality, as financial constraints forced his family to handle the remnants of the explosion themselves.

The investigation undertaken by the BBC revealed a harrowing average of one child casualty every 18 days in West Bengal due to bomb violence, often hidden in the open where children play. This issue has roots that trace back to historical conflicts and unrest in the state, where political parties have utilized bombs as tools of intimidation, particularly during elections.

Known locally as "peto," these crude bombs are often made from easily accessible materials and have become a deadly part of political culture in West Bengal. The report highlights that many of the casualties involve children from impoverished families, who are often unaware of the dangers lurking in their surroundings.

The narratives of children like Poulami Halder and Sabina Khatun further illustrate the personal toll of this violence. Poulami, who lost her hand after picking up what she thought was a ball, and Sabina, who also faced severe injuries at a young age, must navigate their futures with disabilities while grappling with the social stigma often associated with such injuries in India.

Despite the ongoing violence and its devastating impact on families, political parties involved deny any wrongdoing. Spokespersons for key political groups, including the ruling Trinamool Congress and the opposition Bharatiya Janata Party, have not addressed the issue directly, choosing instead to focus on their alleged commitment to law and order.

Experts in the field, like former police inspector Pankaj Dutta, have voiced concern over the normalization of this violence and its implications on society, particularly the impact on children. Dutta emphasized that the continuous use of bombs during election periods is not merely a political issue, but a broader societal failure that disproportionately affects the youngest and most vulnerable members of the community.

As the cycle of violence continues, the heartbreaking stories of the affected families remind us that the human cost of political strife in West Bengal is borne heavily by its children. The recent tragedy in Hooghly district, where a bomb explosion killed a nine-year-old boy and injured another, serves as a stark reminder that without urgent action and accountability, this alarming trend is likely to persist. The voices of children like Poulami and Sabina highlight the pressing need for change: “No child should ever be harmed like this again.”