Amid SIR fears, Sonagachi sex workers throng EC camps; CEO vows no eligible voter will be excluded

Kolkata: Hundreds of sex workers from Sonagachi, Asia's largest red-light district, thronged EC assistance camps on Tuesday, with anxiety writ large on their faces amid the Special Intensive Revision (SIR) of electoral rolls, even as the CEO said not a single eligible voter would be excluded.

Many of the women, who have been living for years in the narrow lanes and congested 'kothis' of north Kolkata's ward number 18, said they were worried their names might be struck off the voters' list as they lack proof of ancestry or have long lost contact with their natal families after being trafficked, abandoned or fleeing home decades ago.

"We are being asked about parents from a life we were forced to erase," said a woman in her early thirties, clutching her crumpled form. "Now we are scared we will be erased again," she said.

Seeking to allay the fears, West Bengal Chief Electoral Officer (CEO) Manoj Agarwal, who visited the camp set up near Durga Charan Mitra Street, said that of the nearly 11,000 voters in the ward, around 3,500 sex workers are yet to be covered under the enumeration drive and would be included shortly.

"We have been given special powers to include women who were not in the 2002 roll but have voted in 2021 and 2024. Their names will be protected by December 11," Agarwal told reporters.

"For those who had not voted in all those years, but have other proofs as citizens, we will ensure they submit Form 6 with annexures from December 16 and have their names included in the final electoral roll, which will be published on February 14. We have the target to ensure that not a single ineligible voter's name is left out of the final roll. We will protect the democratic rights of every bona fide resident of India," he said.

He said even those unable to furnish relatives' documents need not panic, as verification would be done through local residents and registered NGOs working in the area.

"On the lines of similar camps for the elderly, held at old age homes, our officials, with support from members of several NGOs working in the area, are assisting them (sex workers) fill up forms with necessary details and help them overcome apprehension so that no eligible voter is left out. We hope they will participate in the democratic exercise which is very important for them," he said.

Agarwal, who met several sex workers and assured them of all support from the EC, was seen reassuring a young woman holding a newborn in her arms, who said she had been trafficked from a south Bengal district four years ago.

"I don't know where my parents are. My daughter is all I have," she whispered.

"Please don't worry. Your name will stay," the CEO told her.

Earlier in the day, Women and Child Welfare Minister Sashi Panja visited Sonagachi and said the state government would ensure that not a single eligible voter from the marginalised section is deprived of democratic rights.

"These women are citizens of this country. Their votes cannot be taken away due to technicalities," Panja said.

At a narrow alley before Kadamtala Milan Sangha Club, volunteers from Amra Padatik, Usha Multipurpose Cooperative Society and Durbar Mahila Samanwaya Committee patiently guided women through complicated forms, often filling them up on their behalf as many struggled to read or write.

"Most of them sign with trembling hands. They fear these papers more than the police," Soma Sen, a volunteer, said, adding, "We keep telling them this paper is their voice." For Puja Das, now 47, the process reopened wounds she thought had long healed. Lured from Nadia district in her early twenties with the promise of work, she never returned home.

"I gave birth here, raised my children here. Suddenly, I am being asked where my parents are, where I was in 2002," she said.

"For me, this SIR feels like a crisis equal to the COVID pandemic. Back then, it was hunger. Now it is fear," she added.

Another woman in her forties, born and raised inside a Sonagachi 'kothi', stared at the form for a long time before speaking.

"I don't even remember my real name. I grew up calling another woman 'maa' (mother). If my real family has disowned me, what should I write here?" she asked softly.

Rinku Trivedi, an NGO activist, said many women were too intimidated to speak directly to officials.

"Today, I helped around 50 women talk to the EC officials. They whisper their fears to us first, as if officials are judges," she said, adding, "We walk them to the table, sit them down and tell them this is your right." Some worry about the economic cost of compliance.

"Every hour here means lost earnings," said 51-year-old Kohinoor Begum, who came to Sonagachi from Murshidabad in 1994.

"Democracy is important, but so is tonight's food. If I don't work, who will feed me?" she asked.

Mahasweta Sen of NGO Amra Padatik said a few women had initially left the area fearing citizenship scrutiny, but most stayed back after being assured of legal safeguards.

"They keep asking us only one thing 'Are we Indians or not?' That question itself shows how deep the fear runs," she said.

As Sonagachi slipped back into its nightly rhythms, the day's paperwork had already done something political -- it forced a city to acknowledge the citizens it usually pretends not to see.