The stolen dreams of acid attack survivors

After a long day’s work, Geeta, the primary provider for her family, returns home. Most nights, she is subject to physical and verbal abuse at the hands of her husband, who comes home drunk. Thirty years ago, the same man had attacked Geeta and her children with acid while they were sleeping in the middle of the night.

While one of Geeta’s three children lost her vision in the attack, her eighteen-month-old daughter, Krishna, succumbed to an infection soon after.

“We spent more than three months in the hospital. I filed a case in court, but had no one to support me and my children. We were scared, and the case was not moving forward. Due to pressure from relatives, we withdrew the case soon after,” says Geeta.

Read | An ineffective ban on the sale of acid

The attacker, Geeta’s husband, was imprisoned for four months. During this time, he contacted her and promised to change. Struggling to provide for her family, unable to pursue justice in court, and worried about the social challenges of raising her daughters alone, Geeta was forced to go back to him. She and her children continue to live with their attacker to this day.

The attack, in Madhu’s case, came from a man who had been stalking her for months. An undergraduate student with hopes for a bright future, Madhu was attacked with acid on her way to college one morning.

“There was a sudden cold (feeling), and an instant later, the burning took over. I remember screaming and when I looked down, I saw that parts of my face had melted. I looked for help but no one came forward, I soon fainted,” Madhu recalls.

Today, 25 years later, she is faced with the physical, emotional, financial and social consequences of the attack every day. While her attacker is a free man, a life sentence has been dealt to the survivor.

Madhu and Geeta are representative of the thousands of people across India who suffer the irreversible harm of acid attacks. In the past five years alone, 1,079 acid attacks were recorded in the country, according to National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) data. In 2021, 176 acid attacks were reported, along with 73 ‘attempts to acid attack’.

While the atrocious nature of the crime already makes these numbers stark, the real number is much higher. It is estimated that about 60 per cent of cases go unreported. The actual number of cases is estimated to be 1,000 annually.

“Women are afraid or ashamed. We have seen many who tell us that the stove burst or it was a cooking accident, when the medical analysis actually reveals the truth — an acid attack,” says Satya K, who works with Aweksha, a Bengaluru-based NGO for women.

A large number of cases involve a stalker or spurned lover. However, in recent years, acid attacks have also become more common in instances of family disputes and other disagreements. Further, while there is a clear gender dimension to the crime, in a few cases, men have also been the targets of such attacks.

Social workers also report that in many cases, acid attacks are a form of domestic violence. This adds another dimension of complexity to rehabilitation and judicial remedy. Survivors are unable to pursue legal action due to pressure from family.

Take, for example, the case of Suma (name changed). Her husband had attacked her with acid, following arguments due to jealousy and accusations of infidelity.

She arrived at a government hospital’s burn ward in Bengaluru with 57 per cent burns. A social worker says, “She was recovering and cooperating very well for treatment. However, we were worried about her mental health, as her in-laws were around the whole time, pressuring her to release their son from jail.”

With her mental and physical health deteriorating, Suma succumbed to an infection two months after the attack. Five years later, five years too late, the attacker was given 10 years imprisonment for the attack and life imprisonment for murder.

Even in cases where judicial action is pursued, the results are dismal. The conviction rate for acid attacks has seen several lows in the past decade. In 2021, the rate fell from 71.4 per cent to 20 per cent, the lowest recorded by the NCRB so far. Further, the pendency rate of acid attack cases has been at an average of 94 per cent over the past five years. Between 2017 and 2021, only 175 people have been convicted.

Under section 326A of the Indian Penal Code, a person convicted in an acid attack case can be jailed for 10 years, which can further be extended to life imprisonment with a fine. “The case also depends on how keenly it is contested. If the police takes the matter seriously and contests bail (of the accused), then there will be a more effective penalty,” says former Delhi Police Commissioner S N Shrivastava.

As survivors focus on the most urgent need — emergency medical treatment, justice falls out of their reach. “Practically, what happens in most cases is this: as soon as a woman is attacked, the victim and family rush to the hospital. For the next few months, they are focused on getting medical treatment. During this time, the attacker’s family goes to the police and uses their influence or bribes to prevent any legal action from moving forward. By the time the victim’s family is able to follow up, it is already of no use,” says Ajay Tomar, who works with Chhanv Foundation, a non-profit for acid attack survivors in Noida.

Medical treatment

The bodily harm caused by acid attacks includes permanent scarring, deformities, nerve damage, loss of eyesight and hearing, and in severe cases, paralysis, infection and death. When the acid first touches the skin, it causes burning and irritation. Over time it corrodes the skin and causes severe deformities.

The immediate and most important first aid involves washing the acid off with water, to mitigate its corrosive effects. In practice, doctors and social workers find that people are unaware of this procedure, leading to greater and more long-term effects.

Under the National Legal Services Authority’s (NALSA) scheme, acid attack survivors are entitled to free medical treatment at all private and public hospitals.

In practice, however, survivors report being turned away by private hospitals, or being charged for treatment. “Even emergency treatment is not provided free of cost. At government hospitals, they make us wait and it worsens the situation as the acid continues to eat away at the skin,” says Daulat Bi Khan, an acid attack survivor and founder of Acid Attack Survivors Saahas Foundation, Mumbai.

At private hospitals, a single procedure can cost anywhere from Rs 2 to 4 lakh. “In one case, even though we paid an admission fee of Rs 50,000 at a private hospital, the patient was removed from the operation theatre, and treatment was denied until the full amount was paid,” says Daulat.

Further, both medical professionals and survivors point out that in cases of acid attacks, beyond emergency aid, there is a need for lifelong treatment, which runs into lakhs. Till date, Daulat herself has had 18 reconstructive surgeries.

The provision for medical treatment does not account for reconstructive surgeries, rehabilitative procedures or psychiatric treatment. “At most, there are provisions in place for primary care — which focuses only on saving the patient. Survivors and their families keep having to run here and there for help, unable to afford the expenses of complete and quality treatment,” says Dr Priyadarshan, a Bengaluru-based plastic and cosmetic surgeon, who has treated acid attack survivors.

Over time, the financial, social and emotional pressures continue to grow, with little to no avenues for support. “Initially, the patients are ready for treatment. But over time, they begin to lose hope, the costs are high and they are all alone,” he adds.

The focus of medical care and treatment rests on immediate survival. Unfortunately, the dimension of quality of life is largely missing in the approach to recovery. While NALSA provides for treatment, it clearly excludes psychological support.

Survivors go through complete devastation, “but there is hardly anything provided for emotional support. We keep them alive, but do not help them live,” the doctor explains.

Compensation

A 2013 directive from the Supreme Court mandated a compensation of Rs 3 lakh to be paid to the victim within three months of the incident. This covers less than 10 per cent of the treatment costs.

Further, while Rs 1 lakh is supposed to be given to survivors within 15 days of the attack, in reality, it takes an average of six to seven years for compensation to reach beneficiaries, if it does at all.

With the cost of treatment, legal fees and day-to-day expenses, the compensation barely covers a few months of recovery.

The more pertinent question is, perhaps, how do we begin to account for the lifelong impact of such an incident? How does a one-off payment address the several layers of long-term consequences that an acid attack holds for a survivor? “Acid attacks are not a one-time affair. The material itself remains and continues to corrode the skin. In addition, with social stigma, surgeries every now and then, physical and emotional pain, survivors go through too much trauma,” says Swati Maliwal, Chairperson, Delhi Commission for Women.

The compensation scheme fails to address this multitude of implications an acid attack survivor is left to grapple with. A majority of acid attack victims are in the age range of 18 to 22 years. In moments, the attack steals away their dreams, careers, further education and futures.

Following the incident, survivors are shunned and shamed for their deformities. They face discrimination before employers and struggle to find jobs. While some come from poor socioeconomic backgrounds, others, having been forced to discontinue their studies, lack qualifications for the careers they had previously aspired to pursue. Finding jobs and re-building their lives becomes a near impossibility.

Socio-economic support

“When our entire joy and future is stolen from us, how can Rs 3 lakh cover that? Is that our worth?” asks Daulat. She plans to file a Public Interest Litigation (PIL) in the upcoming week, demanding that the compensation policy be expanded to cover socio-economic support, including monthly treatment fees, caretaker fees for those who have lost their vision, and provisions for employment. The PIL will also advocate for the inclusion of men, children and transgender people in compensation and rehabilitation schemes.

Most survivors depend on NGO initiatives, like that of Daulat’s, to access basic amenities. Despite short bouts of national attention, legislation and the introduction of schemes, acid attack survivors are left on their own to deal with the consequences of another’s actions for a lifetime.

The compensatory mechanism is falling severely short of ensuring recovery for survivors. “There is a real need for holistic rehabilitation,” says Swati. This would include measures such as provision of employment, shelter, counselling, free-of-cost plastic surgeries and pension.

In the absence of such concrete rehabilitative efforts, a small number of acid attack survivors are able to get back on their feet. “Government support depends on how emotionally charged the situation is and thereby fails most survivors. They are never able to recover,” says Dr Priyadarshan.

Considering the thousands of cases pending to this day, the magnitude of harm, and the lack of accountability from the point of sale to the point of attack, survivors of this heinous crime continue to bear the heavy weight of a barebones system for rehabilitation and justice.