Amanat Awakens
Inside a trapezium-shaped hall of an engineering institute tucked in Church Lane, Srinagar, something long overdue finally happened on October 05, 2025. The glass ceiling shattered. The door of silence cracked open. Whispers turned into voices—booming, trembling, and fierce. The echoes of abused children finally reached a crescendo.
“Na. Ab bahut ho gaya.”
Amanat had arrived—to wipe tears, to unmask predators lurking in our backyards, to tell every child, you are not alone.
Amanat: Protecting the Childhood – A Shared Trust, a seminar jointly organized by LearningLee and Thinksite, chose to confront a subject Kashmir has long buried under the carpet: child abuse. For centuries, abuse has existed—denied, disguised, and silenced. In Kashmir, it hides behind closed doors and whispered warnings. But Amanat dared to open those doors.
Shielding the Monster?
“Yuth ne ken’si wanakh”—Don’t tell anyone.
This single sentence, repeated in trembling voices across households, becomes the abuser’s shield. It hands them impunity and snatches the victim’s voice. During the seminar, a clinical psychologist recalled stories of young girls silenced by parents fearing reputation. But when a mother asks her violated child to stay quiet, what reputation does she save?
As one speaker painfully shared, a girl once whispered to her mother about being assaulted by her uncle. Her mother hushed her. Years later, that same uncle stood as a witness at the girl’s wedding. The axe forgets, but the tree remembers. And yes, abuse knows no gender. Amanat reminded everyone that sexual abuse doesn’t recognize gender. Thousands of boys carry scars beneath their silence.
Schools Still Silent
Our schools, meant to be safe spaces, remain ignorant construction sites. The phrase “Good Touch, Bad Touch” is still alien to many teachers and students. Few educators are trained to talk about it, let alone teach it. Amanat’s speakers called for it to become a mandatory life lesson—not an elective moral science chapter, but a survival skill for every child.
Faith and Fraudsters
Kashmir’s deep faith, too, has been exploited. We have lifted imposters—men in tattered robes and false halos—to pedestals of reverence. Some of these so-called saints have used their “blessing rooms” to destroy innocence. Recently, a fake faith healer, Aijaz Sheikh, was sentenced to 14 years for child abuse. He won’t be the last unless we learn to question before we stop cult worship.
Justice Crawls
Justice, meanwhile, limps. Though the POCSO Act was extended to J&K in 2019, trials remain painfully slow. Every delay emboldens another predator. Quick verdicts aren’t just about punishment—they’re about deterrence.
Digital Dangers
The internet, now in every pocket, has blurred the lines of childhood. Unrestricted access pulls young minds into dark alleys of explicit content, twisting curiosity into addiction. What begins as screen-time soon mutates into real-world harm. Awareness at home and school must now include digital safety.
It Begins at Home
Parents are the first protectors—and often, the first silencers. Amanat reminded us to listen when children speak, even if their words make us uncomfortable. Stop forcing hugs, kisses, or interactions your child resists. When we override their discomfort, we teach submission, not affection. Let them be children—wild, curious, loud. Don’t program them into silence.
Breaking the Ice
At Amanat, a survivor took the microphone. Her voice quivered, then steadied. She choked—but spoke. Her story wasn’t just confession; it was revolution. Beside her, doctors shared chilling cases—a girl impregnated by a family member, later poisoned by her own kin to “save honour.” The audience sat frozen, their silence this time heavy with resolve.
Lighting More Flames
Amanat has lit the first flame in Kashmir’s long night of denial. But one flame is not enough. We must all become protectors of childhood, keepers of trust.