Across the divide, children who lost parents in 2020 violence struggle to move forward – Henry Club

The strum of the guitar moved Fiza (14) to tears. Her teachers had taken a group of children out for a school picnic, and when someone from the group sang ‘Maa’ from the film Taare Zameen Par, the teenager couldn’t control herself. The memories of her father, Md Muddassar (35), came flooding back. The last time she saw him was when he left home to pay his school fee. He was shot dead as riots broke out in Northeast Delhi. “I was reminded of my father; I miss him a lot,” said Fiza.

Two years since 53 people were killed in violence that broke out on February 23, 2020, children of families who lost members are still coming to terms with the loss.

Vir Bhan Singh (48), a father of three, was among those who lost his life in the violence. While two of his children managed to complete class XII, his youngest daughter, Khushi (15), almost dropped out of school. Singh’s brother Mukesh said, “She used to sit for online classes but got fed up — she was scared of going back to school and was getting anxious as the lockdown lifted. Everyone in our family, including the grandparents, intervened and gave her a lot of love. She is going to school now.”


While some families are dealing with emotional scars, others are in dire financial conditions.

Sunita (30), whose husband Prem Singh (27), a rickshaw puller, also died in the violence, has been looking after her four daughters ever since. Two of them, aged 11 and 6, study at a local government school. “My children missed out on online classes as I don’t have a smartphone. But I got them private tuition, spending around Rs 200. I am looking for a job at my children’s school so that I can stay close to them,” she said.

At Ghaziabad’s Loni, just across the border from Northeast Delhi, around 300 children, mostly from riot-hit families, attend Sunrise Public School, opened two years ago by IIT-Delhi research scholar Aasif Mujtaba. “We opened this school keeping in mind that these children will find it extremely difficult to cope with the trauma of riots. We planned a ‘Smile curriculum’ which involves various activities like skits, music events, picnics to bring them out of their shell. Most were unable to interact with others after witnessing the riots first-hand. We don’t yet have a child psychiatrist who can help with those children who are in a dire condition,” Mujtaba said.

At the school, Asad (10) is confident of doing well in an upcoming test, but finds it difficult to stop his leg from shaking when he interacts with others. His father Jamaluddin (35) was beaten to death by a mob near his house in Shiv Vihar. Two years on, the child has started interacting with others — with a little help from his friends. “I like maths a lot. I don’t like Urdu because I find it difficult to read. I like coming to school as I have a lot of friends here and they make me happy,” he said.

Islamuddin (24), who teaches Hindi and social science at the school, can empathise — he too had fled his home in Shiv Vihar during the violence. “Many of the students can’t go back to the same schools since they were hotspots of violence. It is a bad memory. I knew them from before the riots. They were a joyful lot. Now, they find it difficult to even speak. But they have improved on their own by talking to each other and are making friends again,” he said.

Similarly, Mohammad Arsh (15) fled his home when rioters set it ablaze along with his father’s juice shop. Since then, though, he has made tremendous progress, even helping out with Covid relief during the lockdown. “I made friends here over video games,” he said.

Then again, there are many whose life is still turned upside down. Naresh Saini (32), a vegetable vendor, was killed in front of his residence at Brahmpuri. His wife is now vying for a Delhi government job to pay for the private school where her two children aged 10 and 9 study. Saini’s brother Rajiv (44) said, “It is an uphill struggle to keep those children at a private school. Once we could not pay the school fee and the children were removed from the school WhatsApp group during online classes.”

Poonam (37), wife of head constable Ratan Lal (42) who was shot dead by rioters when he was on duty, has had to leave Delhi as she was unable to look after her three children properly. “Their studies at a private school were free of cost. But I found it difficult to raise my children alone and have shifted to Jaipur. The Delhi government promised me a job which never materialised. I am yet to get the Rs 1 crore compensation announced by the Centre. I have completed my MA in these last two years and applied for a job in Rajasthan. Everyone forgot us and I have to raise my kids with the help of my family,” she said.

Mallika (30) has not been able to send her two children, Khushi (13) and Rehan (5), to school since she does not have money to pay for their daily commute. Her husband, Musharraf (30), a driver, was killed on February 25, 2020. “I found money in a vest-making factory and that barely covers the monthly expenses. How can I educate my children with no money?” she said.

Such was the financial distress at home that Zaid (17), who lost his father Aqil (40) in the violence, had to drop out. When he first went back to school, his teachers placed him in a special class, since his learning levels were inadequate to keep him in class IX and he had to be taught class V curriculum. But pressures at home forced him to opt for a job instead. He now works as an apprentice in a box-making unit, earning Rs 12,000 for 12 hours of work: “I do miss my school. I did not make any friends, but I liked it there. There is no one to look after my family, though, so I have to work.”