Baishakhi Gayen, a social worker with HFC, recently completed her Master of Social Work. For her dissertation, she sat down with 30 women in Sonagachi, Kolkata's largest red-light district, and asked them about their lives: how they arrived, how they are treated, what they fear, how they cope, and what they hope for.
Every question was open-ended, so the women could answer in their own way. Each woman gave her consent, and none are identified. The full study runs more than 100 pages. We have condensed it here because the women's own words are worth hearing, and because what they told Baishakhi shapes how we work in Sonagachi.
Research by Baishakhi Gayen, Social Worker, Her Future Coalition
Thirty women, thirty paths
An estimated 10,000 to 12,000 women live and work in Sonagachi. The 30 women Baishakhi interviewed were between 25 and 46 years old, and most had been in the trade for more than a decade. Some were born in Sonagachi. Others came from rural districts of West Bengal like Murshidabad, and six came from Bangladesh. Nineteen had never learned to read or write.Seven were deceived, trafficked, or sold. Eight came because of a financial crisis. Four were pushed in by their families. Eleven said it was their own choice, though their reasons often sounded much like the others:
"There are many people in the family, and it takes a lot of money to support everyone. We are uneducated, so who would hire us? This became the easiest way to earn. At least now they can eat and live properly."
For some, the path started at birth. Two women said, "Our mothers did the same work, so they pushed us into this life too. When your own mother sends you here, what more can society say?"
"Are we not human beings?"
Twenty-six of the 30 women described regular discrimination and humiliation. It follows them into hospitals, government offices, their children's schools, and their own families.
Healthcare came up again and again. One woman told Baishakhi, "Whenever I go to the hospital, the first questions are: where do you live, what do you do? The moment they hear Sonagachi, they treat our bodies as dirty." Another described a doctor who stood across the room wearing gloves while speaking to her. "Are we not human beings?"
Eleven women struggled to get official documents or government benefits. "I applied many times, but as soon as the address mentions Sonagachi, the file gets stuck." Eleven said their children faced discrimination when enrolling in school.
Seventeen women lost friendships or family ties after entering the trade, and 24 described deep loneliness. Many send money home to families who will not acknowledge them. "We send money home and educate our siblings, yet they do not even introduce us as their sisters. It is as if we do not exist." One mother left her son with his grandmother, then learned the family had told everyone she was dead.
"We are always surrounded by people, yet nobody truly sees us."
Living with fear
Fifteen women described constant fear of violent clients, police raids, and brokers. Eleven had faced life-threatening situations with clients, and nine described dangerous experiences during police raids.
"Every night I wonder what kind of person will come today, whether he will beat me, or even pay me."
The stress shows up in their bodies. Seventeen women reported frequent headaches, insomnia, and loss of appetite. Others described chronic pain, a racing heart, and exhaustion that never lifts. "I cannot sleep at night. I sweat, my head aches, and my mind never feels at peace."
Coping, and the cycle it creates
Many women use alcohol, cannabis, yaba (a methamphetamine pill), or sleeping pills to get through the work. Clients drive much of this. Twenty-five women said they had used substances because a client pushed them to, and refusing could mean lower pay or threats of violence.
Eleven women used substances regularly, and every one of them described withdrawal when they tried to stop. Many said quitting brought back the insomnia, the anxiety, and the memories of past violence. The money spent on substances made it harder to pay for food, healthcare, and their children's needs.
Several women want to stop, some for the sake of their children. Most don't know where to find help, or fear being judged if they ask. Six said they would seek help if confidential, supportive services were available to them.
What they hope for
Thirteen women said they would leave if they had a real opportunity, and fifteen said they want stable, respected work. Eight had already tried other jobs and could not keep them because of discrimination. Others named age, lack of experience, and family responsibilities. "I am nearly forty now. Even if I leave this work, who will give me a job?"
Their hopes are specific and modest. Tailoring, cooking, and beauty work came up often. One woman said, "If I could someday buy a sewing machine and earn from home with dignity, that would be enough for me."
Most of all, the women talked about their children. Many are paying for their children's school and medical care, and they are determined their children will not follow them into the trade. As one mother put it:
"Whatever happened to us should never happen to them. That is what keeps us alive."
The women also look after one another. "We look after each other and help when a customer becomes dangerous." And where organizations offer respectful care, the women notice. Describing a community health program, one said, "Here nobody asks our identity first; they simply see us as human beings."
Why this matters to us
Baishakhi's research puts numbers and voices to what our partners in Sonagachi see every day. The women carry trauma, isolation, and fear, and many of the systems meant to serve them turn them away. What they asked for is consistent: healthcare without judgment, mental health support, confidential help with addiction, real job training, and education for their children.
HFC has been serving in Sonagachi since 2010. Today it is home to the HFC Kolkata Learning Center, a multi-purpose facility where HFC and our partners offer vocational training, counseling, education, and prevention programs for survivors and high-risk children and youth. Through these programs, women whose path was once the same as those quoted in this research have been able to break the chains of poverty and exploitation, and are forging a new path to independence and freedom.
We are grateful to Baishakhi for this careful, compassionate work, and to the 30 women who trusted her with their stories. One of them said, "We smile and work, but nobody knows how much pain we carry inside." Thanks to Baishakhi, a few more of us know.
