“My husband has passed away. But I’m still alive. So, why should I be made to suffer a life of hardships?” – When you hear this from a widow, does this signify her insensitivity? Or a loveless marriage? Or does this pent-up anger imply a deep-rooted deprivation–emotionally, socially…and legally?
Well, this is what Gita Mridha, 49, a resident of Rajat Jubilee of Lahiripurgraam (village) panchayat, in the Gosaba block of Sunderbans, had to say when asked about her journey for justice. But what is this justice for? Mridha and countless other widows of Sunderbans have been seeking their rightful dues i.e. ex gratia compensation for being ‘tiger widows’ i.e. losing their husbands to tiger attacks.
The Sundarbans, a labyrinthine archipelago of mangrove forests and 54 inhabited islands is home to 101 tigers, according to the 2022 Sundarban Tiger Reserve Report. Local livelihoods are intricately tied to the forests of Sundarbans. Fishermen, crab hunters, honey collectors, and shrimp cultivators venture into the dense mangrove forests for their daily catch, and face the constant threat of tiger attacks. This leaves behind a trail of tiger widows, who face immense social and economic hardships after their husband’s death.
February 14, 2012, Valentine's Day, irrevocably altered Gita Mridha's life. Her husband, a fish and crab hunter, with no plans to work that day, received a last-minute call to replace a sick fisherman. It was the last time she saw him. A tiger, pounced on him from behind the trees, throwing him into the river. From there, the tiger dragged him away. Mridha’s bright eyes, momentarily water as painful memories resurfaced. Although teary eyed, she was conscious enough to wipe them away as nearly 40-50 tiger widows had congregated for a meeting that day in Gosaba.
Sundarban Byaghrobidhoba Somiti (Sunderbans Tiger Widow Association) was set up in 2015 in association with DISHA (Society for Direct Initiative for Social and Health Action). Santanu Chakraborty and Atindriya Chakrabarty, Calcutta High Court lawyers and the legal advisers of the association said that they are helping these people “through paralegal advice at no cost and not just offering the know-how but assisting them throughout the process of seeking compensation.”
The association conducts meetings twice or thrice a month. On the day of one such meeting on December 21, 2024, tiger widows walked or cycled long distances braving the incessant rains and muddy roads, all in pursuit of justice. Gita Mridha is the Secretary of this Association.
“I became the Secretary with the thought that there are many women like me who are so deprived and haven’t received the compensation. I named the organisation and since then have walked this long path,” she said assertively.
Becoming the sole breadwinner is never easy. But the women of the Sundarbans possess an extraordinary resilience, forged by the constant challenges of deprivation, cyclones, and the ever-present threat of tigers.
“I did all sorts of work that a mother can to provide food for my sons.” Mridha’s two sons were very young when her husband died. She, is a 5th-class dropout, worked as an agricultural labourer and even did shrimp cultivation which was illegal back then. She also caught crabs. Later when she learnt about DISHA, she joined their effort to plant Sundari trees– “the famous flora of our Sunderbans that’s now in an endangered state,” she said. She earns an additional monthly income of Rs.2500 for this. “One tree means one life. So, when I was given the chance to save our mangroves and earn some money, I decided that I’d do it,” she added.
Fishermen and crab hunters are mandated to have Matshyojibi Card (fishermen identity card) and BLC (Boat License Certificate) before they venture into the forest. When these government registered fishermen are killed in tiger attacks, their widows are entitled to a total compensation of roughly Rs. 4-5 lakhs from the West Bengal government’s Forest Department, Fisheries Department and the state’s Group Personal Accident Insurance Scheme- provided that the victim hasn’t ventured into the core area (protected area stipulated under the Wildlife Protection Act of 1972). “We also need to have the death certificate explicitly stating 'tiger victim' as the cause of death, a police diary entry and an investigation report,” Mridha said.
But the entire process is dehumanising and fraught with bureaucratic hurdles. Often the men, lack the fishermen's IDs or BLCs (Boat License Certificates). Death certificates often inaccurately list “age-related reasons” instead of “tiger attack.” Moreover, women frequently encounter harassment when seeking police entries or investigation reports.
“Instead of receiving help, I faced immense mental harassment from the police,” Mridha said with a sigh.
Adding to their woes, is the fact that several women are illiterate and are unable to write the necessary applications meeting the concerned officials of the Police and Forest Departments. Ironically despite having their necessary documents, women like Gita still haven’t received their legal compensation.
Of the 4.5 million inhabitants of Sunderbans, as per the 2011 census, at least one member of nearly every household is a migrant worker. This raises the question: why didn't Gita choose to leave the Sundarbans in search of a better life elsewhere? The clarity and foresightedness of her response is striking.
“I was terrified to leave my village then,” Gita explained. “After Cyclone Aila in 2009, many migrant workers were cheated out of their wages, so that fear was always present. But, more importantly, I couldn't bear the thought of leaving my children behind. My only thought was– if I die, I'll die with my two sons in my arms. So, I stayed, clinging to them for dear life."
Her sons are now grown men and working in Tamil Nadu. A radiant pride illuminates her face as she speaks of them. The lines of hardship that etched her face during those struggling years have softened, replaced by a sense of tranquillity and the quiet satisfaction of a hard-won victory.
Though soft-spoken, Gita is a powerful voice against the injustice these women face. Disillusioned by countless unanswered letters to forest officials, she's planning to organise protests. Afterall, her sole aim to form Sundarban Byaghrobidhoba Somiti was: “To make the tiger widows of the Sundarbans aware of their rights, rights I myself didn't even know at one time. I don't want any woman to simply sit quietly at home after her husband's death.”
Gita is deeply loved and respected by the women in the association. Beyond attending meetings focused on their pursuit of justice, they also gather to enjoy meals like Gita’s delicious chicken curry. Toru Mondal, a 40-year-old tiger widow, says, “Didi is incredibly helpful. She keeps us informed about any progress in our cases.”
As Gita serves dal and chicken to everyone, the fire in her soul is palpable. A battle of 13 years so far. But victory still looks like a mirage. There is no denying that tigers ought to be saved. But when will the Government acknowledge the plight of these widows- women whose lives are inextricably intertwined with the forests they are expected to respect. Women who lack the resources, time, and skills to navigate the long legal battle.
Despite no end in sight, what keeps her forging ahead-Gita smiles, a poignant mix of despair and determination, and says stoically, “Er inamtohjibon” (This is what you call life).