Sita is a pretty 25-year-old woman with lovely honey-hazel eyes. Her husband is a police guard at a jail in western Nepal who left her to elope with a Maoist prisoner. Sita came to the National Commission for Women last week with her two children to seek help. "Once they have children, he will abandon her just like he left me," says Sita.

During the last seven years, we have heard harrowing tales of people killed and orphaned by the insurgency. But not much about babies born from relationships between security forces, Maoists and local women.
After a recent tour of the midwest, it is clear that Nepal's problem of war babies is similar to the Amerasian children left behind in Vietnam.

In Bardia alone at least 300 security forces personnel have eloped in "gandharbha bibaha" with local girls. The young women don't seem to want to know whether the men are already married, nor do our sipais reveal their existing marital status. The lucky ones are picked up by unmarried soldiers. But, even then, the problem with this kind of marriage is that they can neither register with the local authorities-which in most cases are non-existent or non-functional-nor can they have a traditional marriage.

Then, there's always the sudden surprise when the girls wake up one morning to find that their secret lovers have been transferred during the night sans consorte. Some of the women are pregnant when left behind, and have no idea where their husbands have gone. Uma in Dadeldhura married a member of the Armed Police Force, but he left suddenly one day. "I don't know where he has been transferred to," Uma says, "all I know is that he had a police cut, was sturdy and muscular and the dates he was posted here." She has his name, at least the name he told her, and there is no other identity she can use to chase him through the police bureaucracy. Surprisingly, it was Uma's mother who encouraged her to date the paramilitary officer.

Uma's mother says, "Poor policeman, nobody of his here, chhori was kind to him." Mother even vacated the house to facilitate things. And for Uma, one thing just led to another.

Many women of various ages in towns across western Nepal express sympathy for men in uniform. They did not care who they were, it was almost as if they fell in love with the camouflage fatigues. In Rolpa, a woman shopkeeper says she believes that in times of crisis it is her duty to support the soldiers. "We have to be friendly and loving to men in uniform to boost their morale," she says. If the women are willing, it seems natural that the men-lonely, afraid and homesick-fall for their affection.

However, there are many cases of abandoned and pregnant women, and mothers left behind with their babies. It's the same old story: as long as the girl doesn't get pregnant, the relationship seems secure and romantic.
Even if abandoned, the woman has the hope that her soldier will return. But if she is pregnant or already has her baby, and the "husband" is nowhere to be seen, she faces stigmatisation and becomes a pariah in the village.

There is no official count of how many abandoned women and babies there are throughout our war zones, but on a brief recent visit we estimated hundreds in each district. Women there want this issue to be included in the agenda for the peace process. It is clear that even if the combatants on both sides could not control the sexuality of their personnel, they have to own up to the fact and take responsibility for looking after the women and children.


Sources have told us there are several senior police officers who have married second or third wives while posted in the districts. Affected wives have approached the National Commission for Women to prepare stricter legislation so women will think twice before marrying an already-married officer.

Some Maoist sources have also approached the commission to investigate cases of alleged rape and pregnancies of women prisoners while in army or police custody. After an investigation, the commission found no cases of rape-related pregnancy, but human rights activists say that Maoist women who have been raped or made pregnant had not been imprisoned. In one tarai and one hill district, two Maoist girls revealed to us that they had been raped by their own comrades.

In Kailali, Devi had been brutally and repeatedly raped while in military custody and then disappeared. Devi's parents think she is dead. These cases need to be investigated, perpetrators identified and punished. Otherwise, there is a great danger we will have yet another set of war victims: brutalised women, heart-broken girls with fatherless children. This will be another category of Nepali women needing psychological and legal counselling and welfare support.

Dr Durga Pokhrel is the chairperson of the National Commission for Women who recently returned from a tour of the western districts. The names of women have been changed to protect their identity.)