The lane leading to Malandi village is still cloaked in an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional cry of a mother whose world was shattered on 23 June. Nine-year-old Tamanna Khatun, a cheerful schoolgirl with a bright future, became the face of an avoidable tragedy when a bomb, allegedly hurled during a premature victory rally of the Trinamul Congress, snatched her life away.
Now, her mother Sabina Bibi stands alone, draped in grief and rage, threatening to fast until death if justice continues to elude her.
“I will not eat until the killers of my daughter are punished,” Sabina declared with a trembling voice, flanked by villagers who have begun to fear not just the bombs—but the silence of the powerful.
Her pain has triggered a sharp wave of public outcry, reaching the corridors of the National Commission for Women. On Monday, NCW member Dr Archana Majumdar visited the grieving family, stood at the site where Tamanna’s blood still haunts the earth, and listened to a mother whose questions remain unanswered.
“I don’t want money. I want justice. What will I do with compensation when the accused walk free?” Sabina said, choking back tears as she described seeing the alleged attackers “roaming around the locality,” untouched and unfazed.
Even as Sabina points fingers directly at chief minister Mamata Banerjee—blaming her for not allowing the police to function freely—NCW’s Dr Majumdar has chosen to place her trust in the law enforcement authorities.
“Ten out of the 24 FIR-named accused have already been arrested,” Dr Majumdar told reporters in Krishnagar, after her meeting with the senior police officer at the office of the superintendent of police. “The others are hiding. They will be arrested soon. A Special Investigation Team (SIT), comprising young officers has been formed to investigate the case actively.”
But on the ground, faith is fraying.
Sabina alleges that local civic volunteers—people known in the community—are meddling in the case, attempting to influence witnesses, and whitewashing the truth. “They know everyone here. They’re part of this system. How can we expect a fair probe when those investigating are friends of the accused?” she asked.
Taking note of this, Dr Majumdar assured that no local civic volunteer would be deployed further in the probe. “The additional superintendent of police has agreed that this is a sensitive case, and outsiders will be tasked with the investigation,” she said.
The NCW member raised five key concerns with the district police: Immediate arrest of all named accused, deployment of sniffer dogs to uncover hidden explosives, removal of local civic volunteers from the investigation, prevention of crime scene tampering and a time-bound, neutral probe.
The police, according to her, acknowledged certain lapses—admitting that not all suspects’ houses had been searched—and promised to course-correct. “They told me that raids have been conducted in some areas, but not all. They’ve now agreed to intensify the operation,” she said.
But in Malandi, the family and villagers say they’re used to promises. What they need now is action.
The tension in Kaliganj is not just about one child. It is about a growing fear that justice in West Bengal is not blind—but selective, a local resident alleged.
“She was just playing,” whispered Sabina, staring at her daughter’s empty slippers placed near the doorstep. “One minute she was there, the next she was gone.”
The NCW’s intervention has brought some attention, but for a mother preparing to give up her life to demand justice, it may not be enough. “They say the culprits are in hiding. But where? Why can’t the police find them? Or is someone protecting them?”
As the investigation crawls forward, the villagers of Malandi prepare for darker days. Some whisper about a cover-up, others about fresh violence. But Sabina Bibi, frail yet fierce, has only one goal left: “My daughter will not die in vain.”
And until her voice is heard, she says, she will not eat.