13 Years After Nirbhaya, Has Anything Changed?

Today marks the 13th anniversary of the horrific Nirbhaya case, a crime so brutal that it forced people to take to the streets in protest in the dead of winter. Authorities even temporarily shut some Metro stations in Delhi in an attempt to prevent people from gathering.

The victim, referred to as Nirbhaya, was gang-raped by six men on a moving bus in the national capital, Delhi. Four of the perpetrators, Akshay Thakur, Vinay Sharma, Pawan Gupta and Mukesh Singh, were sentenced to death by a trial court in 2013.

They were hanged in the high-security Tihar jail in Delhi, marking India’s first executions since 2015.

Another accused, Ram Singh, was found dead in jail in March 2013, having allegedly taken his own life. The sixth accused, who was 17 at the time of the crime, was released in 2015 after completing a three-year term in a reform facility, the maximum punishment prescribed for juveniles under Indian law.

The case triggered sweeping changes in India’s anti-rape laws. Thirteen years on, however, the question remains: has anything really changed?

Crimes against women still remain high, coloured also by the class and caste dynamics. In 2020, a 19-year-old Dalit woman was gang raped and brutally assaulted by upper-caste neighbours in Hathras, Uttar Pradesh. Her death and the hurried cremation carried out by the district administration in the dead of the night triggered an outcry across India. 

The family alleged that the authorities cremated their daughter without seeking their consent, not even letting them see the face of the victim for the last time, a charge the district administration has denied. 

The country was jolted by fresh shockwaves when the body of the 31-year-old doctor was found on August 9, 2024, at the busy, state-run RG Kar Medical College and Hospital in Kolkata. After a long shift, she had gone to rest in the hospital’s seminar hall, and her body was later discovered near a podium by a colleague.

Time and again, we are shaken by such heinous crimes, which briefly dominate the front pages. Yet, sooner rather than later, they fade from public memory. What remains are cursory follow-ups — were the perpetrators caught, were they convicted? The harrowing testimonies are revisited and the brutality assessed, by the police, by the judiciary, but only to a limited extent. Does it lead to any change?

Outlook Magazine’s September 11, 2024, issue ‘Lest We Forget’, editor-in-chief Chinki Sinha writes about how the victims’ credibility and character are always questioned, first examined by the police, then by the judiciary; and about the romanticism of rape in cinema.

In ‘To Speak Of The Unspeakable’, she says, “We, who were once girls, grew up watching cinema that always mourned rapes and looked at it as the defilement of the person. The woman was then a “used” body and her honour was sacred. The honour wasn’t just hers, it also belonged to her family and her neighbourhood.”

In ‘Nirbhaya, The Constant Reminder Of Our Own Failings’, Sharmita Kar wrote about the legal proceeding and how the crime is reflective of a systematic failure to cleanse the societal malaise

“The 2012 Delhi gang rape was nothing short of barbaric and reflective of a systematic failure to cleanse the societal malaise. The details of injuries on her head and intestines were so gruesome that the capital city was shaking with outrage. A volley of angry protestors circled police stations and blocked highways seeking punishment to the rapists and accountability from the State,” Kar stated. 

In Violated Kolkata, Mamata Gets A Feel Of Civil Society Wrath, Snigdhendu Bhattacharya and Avantika Mehta reported on the politics around R.G Kar Hospital rape case. 

“Right from the beginning, junior doctors blamed the medical college’s principal, Sandip Ghosh, for trying to suppress the case. They sought his removal. The government relieved him of his duties in the morning, only to reinstate him as the principal of another medical college and hospital a few kilometres away. Furious protesters did not allow him to take charge.”

In Thanjavur Gangrape Victim Betrayed By The Very System She Sought Help From, Shahina K. K. writes on the battle that follows the crime. 

“As her complaint fell on deaf ears at Pappanadu police station, she went to the All-Women Police Station at Pattukottai, 14 km away, along with her family members. She came against a brick wall there too. Instead of registering a crime, the cops advised her to go to the local government hospital for a medical examination. They were also advised to go to Orathanadu police station, jurisdictionally the ‘right place’, where her statement would be recorded. The police didn’t bother to take her to the hospital in their vehicle, despite fully knowing it was a case of gang rape.”

Crimes against women continue. According to government data, India recorded nearly 4.5 lakh cases of crime against women in 2023, marking an increase compared with the previous two years. 

Cruelty by husbands or their relatives accounted for the largest share, with 1,33,676 cases and a rate of 19.7 per lakh. This was followed by kidnapping and abduction of women, which recorded 88,605 cases and a rate of 13.1 per lakh.

Thirteen years after the crime that led to sweeping changes in the country’s rape laws, the figures still point to a harsh reality, confronting us with a shameful reflection of what we have created for ourselves.