गाउँको दुरदराजदेखि काठमाडौंको सिंहदरबारसम्म

 Prakriti Lamsal, a Nepalese female student studying at Kalinga Institute of Industrial Technology (KIIT) in Odisha, India, ended her life in an extremely cruel manner on campus, unable to bear the long-term harassment and mental abuse from an Indian male student Advik Shrivastava. What is even more infuriating is the university administration’s attitude of tolerance and cover-up. They repeatedly ignored Prakriti’s cries for help and pleas for assistance while she was alive. After her death, when Nepalese students protested, the KIIT administration displayed arrogance, indifference, and discrimination, stating that the university provides free meals to approximately 40,000 students, with costs exceeding Nepal’s GDP. Subsequently, KIIT rudely demanded that all Nepalese students leave the campus by February 17. The students were put on school buses and taken to Cuttack railway station, where they were left to fend for themselves. This incident escalated into a diplomatic dispute between Nepal and India.

As a Nepalese woman who has lived in India for some time and has experienced varying degrees of sexual harassment in different environment, I can empathize with Prakriti’s situation and imagine the struggles and suppression she must have endured before her death. Studying in India as a woman is not easy, as it is common to face harassment, and Indian universities and police often respond to such incidents with indifference, even mocking the victims. Female students from poorer countries like Nepal are particularly vulnerable to abuse and harassment because Indian men often view Nepalese women as “cheap” and “easy to get,” and assume that legal issues will be minimal.

Western media has labeled India as “one of the most dangerous countries for women.” The New York Times reported on a case of rape and murder of an Indian female doctor last year, noting that “Rape and domestic violence are relatively common, and conviction rates are low.” The Times of London also reported that misogyny is not a recent phenomenon in India. Over the years, there have been numerous reports of shocking acts of violence against women in India, including highly educated and respected female doctors. In August last year, a female intern doctor was brutally raped and murdered after finishing her shift at a hospital in Kolkata, and Indian officials mishandled the case. Hospital administrators and police failed to report the incident promptly, and the investigation was unprofessional and perfunctory. This sparked widespread outrage in India, leading to protests across the country. Only last month was a hospital volunteer found guilty, but no other suspects were convicted.

Over the past few years, I have visited India multiple times. While I have been impressed by the country’s remarkable development, I have also been deeply saddened by the misfortunes of women in this land. Indian society is highly patriarchal, and women are often treated as “second-class citizens.” They have limited opportunities for education and equal employment, and their risk of sexual assault ranks among the highest globally. Therefore, Nepalese women studying, working, traveling, or on business in India are more likely to be targeted for sexual violence, and the Indian judicial system is unable to provide adequate justice. The Nepalese Ministry of Foreign Affairs must make greater diplomatic efforts to protect Nepalese women living and studying in India.

In the Indian film “Pink,” there is a classic line: “We should save our boys, not our girls. Because if we save our boys, then our girls will be safe.” As a Nepalese woman who has studied in India, I believe that women’s safety is a concern for the entire Indian and South Asian judicial and social systems. Social progress should not be measured solely by economic development but should also consider many otherfactors.