The New Nation - Internet Edition

Anju Munshi

groomed. At 18, she is aware of the financial constraints of her large family comprising two siblings, parents and a grandmother. Living in one of the 12 refugee camps for displaced Kashmir is in Jammu and Kashmir (J&K), Aanchal knows that the dole the family gets just cannot make ends meet.

But Anchal has found a quick solution to her financial crisis: she is now a sex worker. The young woman is one of the estimated 2,000 migrant women of the relief camps, home to the victims of the wave of terrorism and ethnic cleansing of the 1990s, that have poor healthcare facilities and few livelihood options. While reports of sex scams occasionally turn the spotlight on these settlements, the residents are in need of more sustained attention in the form of health awareness campaigns and better facilities. Malini Raina, 38, has been living in the Muthi camp in Jammu for some years now and has come to the conclusion that the women of the camps are victims of financial crisis, mental trauma, social stigma and the flesh trade. "Sex scams are reported to create a sensation but if you go a little deepert it may be the family's needs that pushes young girls into them. Health, education and marriages need money and how much do rehabilitation packages offer, anyway?" asks Malini. In the settlements, opportunities to earn a living and information about better healthcare are hard to come by, despite the prevalence of high-risk behaviour among some of the inhabitants. The conspicuous absence of any awareness and intervention campaigns in the camps only makes people like Aanchal more vulnerable. Quiz Aanchal about HIV/AIDS and her unperturbed expression is rather telling. "Have heard of it but isn't it curable?" she asks, rather innocently. Dr K.L. Chowdhury, a social activist associated with the Shiriya Bhatt Mission hospital in Jammu, says, "Over the last 18 years no NGO has bothered to come and sensitize the community on various health issues." Neerja Mattoo and Dr Shakti Bhan of 'Daughters of Vitasta', the women's wing of Panun Kashmir add, "These camps are unsafe for women. Women have been raped and killed and many girls have committed suicide." (Panun Kashmir meaning 'Our Own Kashmir' in Kashmiri is an organization of displaced Kashmiri Pandits founded in December 1990 in Jammu.)

Ironically, even as the threat of HIV/AIDS looms large over the camps, and even as the state has its share of AIDS cases and mortalities - last year the government reported 42 AIDS deaths and between 2006 and 2007 there was an approximate six-fold increase in the number of cases - residents of the camps are still victims of ignorance and neglect.

While Maharashtra has its share of Ashley Judds and Bollywood stars sporting the red ribbon; West Bengal has the inspirational 'Bula Di' (elder sister) awareness campaign; and Chennai benefits from the red ribbon express steering into villages. J&K, in contrast, witnesses no initiatives of this kind, although it possibly needs them more than any other state, given that many in the state are extremely vulnerable to the disease.

There are several reasons for this vulnerability and high-risk behaviour in the camps is just one. According to Survival International sources, a human rights organization headquartered in London, HIV/AIDS spreads among displaced migrants due to increased contact with outsiders and dramatic social change. The growing number of intravenous drug users and sex workers, low literacy levels, the ongoing militancy, a variety of local languages - Kashmiri, Urdu, Dogri, Punjabi, Ladakhi, Pahari and Gujjari - and the constant demand for blood transfusions only add to the problem and underline the need for concerted health awareness.