The Feminization of Poverty: A Socialist Feminist Perspective

By Bayan Saleh

April 28, 2026

Source: Originally published by Z. Feel free to share widely.

Image by Atibrarian/Wikimediacommons, licensed via CC BY 4.0

When we speak of poverty in political or academic discourse, we often tend to treat it as a neutral phenomenon, as though it falls upon everyone equally and in the same way. Yet a critical class-based lens exposes the falsity of this supposed neutrality, affirming that poverty is not distributed evenly, and that women bear its burden in a more acute and enduring way.

This is precisely where the concept of the feminization of poverty comes in, not merely as a statistical description, but as a critical analytical tool that reveals the structural relationship between the capitalist economic system and gender relations, and the multiple forms of exclusion and marginalization that arise from both.

The concept emerged in the 1970s to describe the ongoing rise in poverty rates among women, particularly as the number of women bearing sole responsibility for supporting their families grew. Since then, it has become clear that poverty is neutral neither in terms of gender nor in terms of class, and that it is tied to power structures that determine who holds resources and who is denied them.

The latest data from UN Women indicate that 9.2% of women and girls live in extreme poverty, compared to 8.6% of men and boys, with the gap worsening in the 25 to 34 age group, where women are 25% more likely to live in extreme poverty. World Bank reports show that the global gender wage gap stands at 23%, rising to 47.9% in regions of the Global South such as South Asia. These figures confirm that poverty is not gender-neutral, yet numbers alone are insufficient for understanding what is happening, as they describe symptoms without digging into the roots.

When Exploitation Is Twofold

The feminization of poverty cannot be explained by focusing solely on the wage gap; it must be understood within the framework of a deeper economic structure that systematically reproduces gender inequality. Capitalism does not merely produce class disparity, it also reproduces gender disparity through the organization and division of labor in ways that serve the interests of capital above all else.

This is what Clara Zetkin saw with clarity when she argued that the working woman faces a twofold exploitation, neither dimension of which can be understood without the other: she is exploited as a worker paid less than a man in the labor market, and she is exploited within the family through unpaid domestic labor that guarantees the reproduction of the workforce without costing capital a single penny. Anuradha Ghandy reaffirmed this analysis, noting that this dual exploitation takes even sharper forms in Global South contexts, where class, caste, and gender intersect in a single system of domination.

One of the most important manifestations of this system is the separation between economically recognized productive labor and the unpaid labor necessary for the continuation of life. The domestic and care work performed by women forms the foundation for social reproduction, yet it receives no economic recognition, which diminishes its value and excludes women from economic independence. When socialist feminism demands recognition of this labor and its transformation into a collective responsibility, through public nurseries, care facilities, and social services, it is not calling for a partial reform. It is calling for a fundamental reorganization of the relationship between production and social reproduction at the heart of the economic system.

At the same time, women are integrated into the labor market in an unequal manner, concentrated in low-wage, precarious sectors with little stability or protection. Rather than becoming a vehicle for economic liberation, paid work frequently becomes an extension of dependency, particularly in the context of persistent wage discrimination and limited professional advancement. This situation is compounded by the double burden women carry as a result of combining paid labor with unpaid domestic work, without any fair redistribution of roles. This duality is neither a biological fate nor a culturally neutral inheritance; it is the product of a class-based economic system that needs to keep women in the position of the flexible worker who can be pushed to the margins when the market demands it, then recalled when cheap labor is needed.

Crises and Austerity: When Women Pay for Crises They Did Not Create

What makes the picture more complex is that economic crises, conflicts, and climate change deepen the feminization of poverty, with women disproportionately affected by these shifts, particularly in the most fragile societies. In a global context where economic exploitation intersects with historical forms of domination, women across vast regions of the world become more exposed to the harshest forms of poverty and marginalization.

Yet the issue does not stop at exceptional crises. The austerity policies imposed by international financial institutions on Global South countries over decades represent a glaring example of the feminization of poverty as a deliberate political decision. When public services such as education, health, and welfare are cut back, they do not disappear. Instead, their burden shifts onto women, who compensate with their bodies and time for what neoliberal policy has stripped from state budgets. Austerity, in this sense, is not a neutral policy; it is a gendered policy whose costs women pay first and most heavily.

The struggle against austerity policies and the struggle for women’s rights cannot be separated. The woman who loses access to public education when schools are privatized, the woman forced to leave work when public nurseries close, the woman who bears the care of the sick when health budgets are slashed; all of them pay the price of economic decisions made in international institutions that are neither elected nor held accountable. For this reason, confronting the feminization of poverty is inseparable from confronting the global capitalist economic system that produces and reproduces it.

This gap is equally visible in the realm of employment, where women’s participation in the labor market is lower than men’s, and where a large proportion of working women are in precarious, low-wage jobs with limited protection. Women suffer to a greater degree from food insecurity and the absence of social protection systems, a reality that deepens their economic vulnerability and makes any external shock more capable of pushing them below the threshold of subsistence.

From Diagnosis to Change: Toward Radical Policies, Not Superficial Ones

What makes this phenomenon particularly dangerous is that it is not confined to individual suffering; its effects extend to household welfare, contribute to the intergenerational reproduction of poverty, and constrain development potential by marginalizing women’s roles and excluding their economic and social contributions. The feminization of poverty thus becomes an expression of a structural dysfunction requiring radical treatment, not partial solutions that soothe symptoms without touching the roots.

This is where the divide between the class perspective of socialist feminism and liberal reformist feminism becomes apparent. Liberal currents limit themselves to demanding women’s empowerment within the existing system without challenging its structure, focusing on individual empowerment through education, training, and access to microfinance. The socialist feminist perspective, by contrast, holds that these tools are insufficient unless accompanied by fundamental change in relations of production, property, and power. The woman who obtains a small loan in a society that excludes her from education, burdens her with unpaid domestic work, and subjects her to precarious labor laws remains a prisoner of the same structure, even if her situation improves marginally.

Confronting this phenomenon demands policies grounded in both gender equality and the elimination of class exploitation together. This includes achieving wage equality, guaranteeing women’s legal rights at work, broadening social protection to cover the most vulnerable groups, and investing in education and training to economically empower women. It also requires recognition of the economic value of care work, the provision of public services that reduce its burden, and a redistribution of roles within the family and society that allows for more equitable participation in both paid and unpaid labor.

Yet these measures, however necessary, remain insufficient unless they bring about a change in the nature of property relations that structurally make women’s labor cheaper, more precarious, and less protected. Full recognition of care work does not mean merely including it in GDP calculations; it means transforming it into a collective responsibility borne by the state and society, not by women alone. And achieving wage equality does not mean only raising the minimum wage; it means dismantling the class hierarchy in the labor market that makes women, particularly those from the lower classes, the most vulnerable in every crisis.

Ultimately, eliminating the feminization of poverty cannot be separated from a critique of the capitalist economic structure that produces it. The issue is not merely about improving living conditions; it is about a fundamental reconsideration of how labor is organized and how resources and power are distributed within society. As long as women bear the burden of reproducing life without recognition, without wages, and without protection, any talk of equality remains a discourse suspended in the air, never touching the ground on which millions of women stand every day.

Statistical Sources

• UN Women, Gender Snapshot 2025: https://www.unwomen.org/en/node/476303
• UN Women, Women aged 25-34 face higher poverty rates (2023): https://sundiatapost.com/2bn-women-girls-lack-access-to-social-protection-un-women/
• UN Women, Equal Pay (CSW61): https://www.unwomen.org/en/news/in-focus/csw61/equal-payEmail

Bayan Saleh

A Danish leftist-feminist activist and writer of Iraqi origin, Bayan Saleh is a feminist activist, writer, and long-time leftist organizer. She co-founded the Independent Women’s Organization in Erbil in 1991, was active in the Worker-Communist Party of Iraq and the Committee for the Defense of Iraqi Women’s Rights, and represented the committee at the UNHCR in Turkey. Since 2001 she has been a member and candidate of the Danish Red-Green Alliance, and since 2003 she has served on the editorial board of Al-Hiwar Al-Mutamaddin. She coordinates the Center for Women’s Equality, is a member of Amnesty International, and has served in leading positions in the Danish Women’s Council. Bayan has led multiple projects on migrant and refugee women’s rights in Denmark, Kurdistan, and the Middle East, and frequently participates in Scandinavian and international conferences on women’s rights, migration, and equality. Her educational background includes a BSc in Agriculture (University of Mosul, Iraq), diplomas in administration and IT (Denmark), and professional qualifications in psychotherapy and family counseling. She currently works as a family counselor and project manager supporting migrant women in Denmark.

Women in Conflict Zones

By World Beyond War

April 30, 2026

Source: World Beyond War

Webinar: Women in Conflict Zones

Retired U.S. Army Reserve colonel Ann Wright will open the webinar with the latest update on U.S. Central Command (CENTCOM) activities in the region. Dr. Jamila J. Ghaddar will talk about her work archiving conflicts across the region.

This webinar aims to create a space for examining the gendered impacts of war and violent conflict for all people who experience gender-based oppression. 

Speakers

Hanan Awwad has been the President of WILPF Palestine since she started the Section in 1988. An academic, writer, editor and cultural advisor by profession, her main expertise lies in various areas including (resistance) literature, human rights and women’s rights. Hanan received a PhD from Oxford University, has published twelve books and received multiple awards for her work in defending human rights and dignity. Hanan is also a member of the Palestinian National Council and has represented Palestine in more than 700 conferences.

Nagham Al Baba is a student and youth activist from Gaza. She is engaged in raising awareness about the impact of conflict on young people, especially women, and speaks about the realities of life and education in conflict-affected areas.

Dr. Parisa Babaali is an Iranian American data scientist in the US Tech industry whose work bridges science, ethical AI, and human-centered innovation. She was born and raised in Iran during the 1979 revolution and travels regularly to Iran and keeps in contact with activists in Iran. She is an advocate for peace and uses her voice to speak against violence and the human cost of conflict. Passionate about advancing women in STEM, she mentors and supports the next generation of female leaders in the society. Parisa works extensively on addressing social determinants of health and advancing equity, using data and AI to uncover disparities and drive more inclusive outcomes across communities.

Hania Bitar founded The Palestinian Youth Association for Leadership and Rights Activation (PYALARA) in 1999, and she continues to lead it until today.

She started her career as an English teacher at Bethlehem University, then worked as a business manager at the weekly Jerusalem Times newspaper.

In 2005, she co-founded the International Women’s Commission for a Just and Sustainable Peace between Israel and Palestine with Palestinian, Israeli, and international women leaders.

In 2006, she ran in the Palestinian Legislative Council elections as part of the “Third Way” list. She also served as a member of the Board of Trustees of the Arab American University in Jenin, and on the boards of several Palestinian NGOs such as MIFTAH and the Women’s Centre for Legal Aid and Counselling (WCLAC).

She founded the Global Solidarity for Peace in Palestine, which now includes more than 150 organizations, networks, and activists working worldwide to support Palestinian rights and issues.

In 2025, she was awarded the Seán MacBride Peace Prize by the International Peace Bureau (IPB) in recognition of her outstanding work in promoting peace, human rights, and resisting injustice under difficult conditions.

She is a founding member of the Media and Information Literacy Experts Network (MILEN). She was also selected as one of the Young Global Leaders and Young Arab Leaders.

In early 2026, she was elected as the representative of Arab Region to the UNESCO Global Alliance for Media and Information Literacy (MIL).

She is the author of many articles and a keynote speaker at various national and international conferences. In addition to her leadership skills, she is a professional media figure and an influential personality.

Jamila Ghaddar is a South Lebanese archivist and historian of liberation movements and the Arab region. She has been organizing in the anti-Zionist struggle her whole life. Jamila is co-lead of the Fighting Erasure-Digitizing Gaza’s Genocide & the War on Lebanon project; and Assistant Professor at University of Amsterdam. She lives between Lebanon and Netherlands, learning more about the bloody trail of Dutch empire and how to fight erasure in active zones of genocide and war.

Shirine Jurdi is a highly accomplished expert in Women, Peace, and Security (WPS) with over 20 years of experience in peacebuilding, conflict resolution, and gender equality across the MENA region. Her career is marked by a deep commitment to empowering women and youth in conflict-affected areas, ensuring their voices are heard in peace processes and recovery efforts. Shirine has collaborated with renowned organizations such as WILPF, MENAPPAC (GPPAC), Arab States CSOs and Feminist Network, Choueifat Women’s League, Local Mediators Network Marj’oun Hasbaya to design and implement programs that bridge global agendas with local implementation.

Shirine’s work spans a diverse range of initiatives, from documenting peacebuilding initiatives to the impact of war on women and youth to advocating for gender-sensitive policies in post-conflict recovery. She has led groundbreaking projects, including murals on UNSCR 1325; storytelling documentaries on WPS in Libya, Tunisia, Iraq, and Lebanon, and policy papers on the role of women in peacebuilding amid war. Her expertise also extends to environmental impacts of militarization, where she has championed women’s leadership in addressing the environmental consequences of conflict.

As a skilled facilitator and trainer, Shirine has conducted workshops on WPS and Youth, Peace, and Security (YPS) in countries like Lebanon, Iraq, Tunisia, Libya and Georgia. She also fostered collaboration among civil society organizations and integrating climate change and small arms prevention into peacebuilding agendas. Shirine’s contributions have been recognized globally, and she has been invited to speak at high-profile events such as the UN Commission on the Status of Women (CSW), COP28, Conference on Conventional Weapons (CCW), Control Arms and others.

Shirine holds a master’s degree in International Affairs from the Lebanese American University and has pursued doctorate studies in Peace and Conflict Studies at Tokyo University of Foreign Studies. She is a passionate advocate for amplifying voices, aiming to contribute to a more peaceful and inclusive world. Awarded certificate on ceasefire in negotiation from UNDPPA. Recognized for her dedication, Shirine was awarded the International Young Women’s Peace and Human Rights Award from Democracy Today in 2019.

Ann Wright is a retired U.S. Army Reserve colonel and a 29-year veteran of the Army and Army Reserves. She was also a diplomat in Nicaragua, Grenada, Somalia, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Sierra Leone, Micronesia, Afghanistan, and Mongolia. She received the State Department’s Award for Heroism for her actions during the civil war in Sierra Leone. She resigned from the Department of State on March 19, 2003, in opposition to the Iraq war. She is the co-author of Dissent: Voices of Conscience and appeared in the documentary “Uncovered”. Ann is a board member of CODEPINK and an advisory board member of Veterans For Peace, International Peace Bureau, World BEYOND War, Gaza Freedom Flotilla, NO to NATO, Hawaii Peace and Justice, Pacific Peace Network, and Women Cross DMZ.

This article was originally published by World Beyond War; please consider supporting the original publication, and read the original version at the link above.

How Maduro's Indian guru became a household name in Venezuela

(RNS) — The very first, unofficial Sai Center, named for guru Sri Sathya Sai Baba, opened in Caracas in the 1970s. Now, there are almost 30 centers or groups connected to the guru across the country.

President Nicolas Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, join a rally marking the anniversary of the Battle of Santa Ines, which took place during Venezuela’s 19th-century Federal War, in Caracas, Venezuela, Dec. 10, 2025. (AP Photo/Cristian Hernandez, File)

Richa Karmarkar
January 6, 2026
RNS

(RNS) — In his first appearance in a New York courtroom on Monday (Jan. 5), ousted Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro reportedly uttered the words “In the name of God, you will see that I will be free” and “I am a man of God.”

As Maduro — who was arrested by the U.S. on federal drug trafficking charges on Saturday and has pleaded not guilty — hails from a Catholic-majority nation and was born Catholic, one might assume his faith fits neatly into that box. But a number of prominent Venezuelan politicians — including Maduro; his wife, Cilia Flores, who is former president of the country’s National Assembly; and acting President Delcy Rodriguez — are devotees of the late Indian guru Sri Sathya Sai Baba. Known as a “man of miracles” with tens of millions of followers worldwide, he was believed by devotees to have abilities ranging from healing the sick to materializing objects seemingly out of nowhere.

Visitors to Maduro’s private office in Miraflores Palace in Caracas would have seen a large framed portrait of Sai Baba alongside those of former leaders Hugo Chávez and Simón Bolívar. A 2005 photograph shows Maduro and Flores — who was the first of the duo to follow Sai Baba — kneeling on the floor in a visit with the guru at his Prasanthi Nilayam Ashram in the the southern state of Andhra Pradesh, India. And several photos and videos show Rodriguez at the ashram in 2023 and 2024, bowing in respect to the spiritual leader.

When Sai Baba died in 2011 at age 84, Maduro had the Venezuelan government issue an official condolence resolution and declare a national day of mourning. And most recently, on Sai Baba’s birthday in November 2025, just weeks before the collapse of Maduro’s regime, he issued a public statement — one of his last with a nonpolitical message.

Sri Sathya Sai Baba in an undated photo at Brindavan Ashram near Bangalore, India. (Photo courtesy of Sri Sathya Sai Media Centre/Wikimedia/Creative Commons)

“I always remember him when we met. … May the wisdom of this great teacher continue to enlighten us,” Maduro said, describing the guru as a “being of light.”

Sathya Sai Baba, born Sathyanarayana Raju in 1926, was reportedly 14 years old when he announced to his parents that he was the reincarnation of the revered 19th-century Hindu and Muslim saint Shirdi Sai Baba.

Often recognized by his curly hair, Sathya Sai Baba preached “love all, serve all,” “help ever, hurt never” and similar messages that pointed to service, or seva, as central to spiritual growth. Importantly, his message extends beyond religious affiliation. He is followed by people of all backgrounds who use bhajans, chants and psalms in their weekly worship. The widely used logo for Sai Baba and his organizations contains the symbols of five major religions.

But the “God-man” has also been accused of sexual misconduct by several young male devotees, as reported in a 2006 BBC documentary. In 1993, six young male devotees were allegedly killed by police in the bedroom of Sai Baba, in a highly speculative case where the police claimed they shot in self-defense.

But today, the Sri Sathya Sai International Organization operates several foundations, trusts and charities in more than 120 countries, providing humanitarian relief through free hospitals, schools, ashrams, universities and clean drinking-water projects. There are almost 2,000 Sathya Sai Centers worldwide.

And in the Americas, the organization has found a special appeal, having an official presence in 22 Latin American countries. Many point to Venezuela as having the highest concentration of followers. Almost 30 small groups or official centers are located in Venezuela, with devotees everywhere from the Andes Mountains to within Amazonian tribes at the southernmost tip. Official organizational talks and meetings are regularly conducted in Spanish, and a devotional song titled “Mi Destino” was introduced by a Sri Sathya youth group in Venezuela in 2016.

The first Sai Center opened in Caracas in the mid 70s. In 1988, Ana Elena Diaz-Viana was elected president of the country’s first Sai organizational committee.

Diaz-Viana said many devotees, including herself, have encountered spiritual miracles that drew them to the man. She told RNS she saw a man in white robes and a “big afro” in a dream when she was 25 and then recognized him in a documentary called “The Lost Years of Jesus” five years later. She later had a dream of Sai Baba comforting her in a hospital room where her child was sick with pneumonia.

For Venezuelans at a time of economic downturn, she said, Sai Baba’s miracles provided hope. Her son, for example, seemingly got better overnight. “I have goosebumps when I remember that because I felt so humble, and I still feel, after so many years, that this person who I didn’t know he was took care of me and my family,” she said.

In 1988, Diaz-Viana joined a group of 64 Venezuelans to meet the leader at the ashram. She had written a letter asking him to help the poor of the country, she said, and watched in awe as a red light gleamed under his hand as he materialized a lingam, or a symbol of divine energy, in the palm of his hand. He walked to Diaz-Viana and gave her the lingam, telling her to wash it and “give the water to the poor people of Venezuela who do not have money to buy medicines and for those who are going to die.”

For years, Diaz-Viana and others saw a “revolution” as they passed the lingam throughout the country’s Sai Centers, allowing anyone who wished to take a drink from the blessed water, she said. At that point, she said, most people knew of Sai Baba. “No one felt like they they were traitors to their own religion or family faith,” she said.

The lingam given to Ana Elena Diaz-Viana by Indian guru Sri Sathya Sai Baba. (Photo courtesy of Ana Elena Diaz-Viana)

But things changed when Maduro was introduced to Sai Baba, she said. “Someone spoke to Maduro about Sai Baba, about this powerful guru who does miracles, who give gifts to people. And I think he thought it’s a great idea to meet this guru who is so powerful.”

A well-circulated story suggests that during the 2005 visit, Sai Baba materialized a green ring for Maduro after rejecting the leader’s ask for a red ring, saying it was the color of violence, Diaz-Viana said. After Maduro’s visit, many of his supporters got “addicted to” Sai Baba and took control of his legacy centers, she said. Her beloved lingam’s waters stopped flowing, she said, as the new crop of devotees “retained it for their own purposes.”

It is complicated, Diaz-Viana said, to be devoted to the same guru as “problematic” people who are accused of engaging in criminal activity. Yet it is a “spiritual vision” to see politicians as “children of God.” Divine justice, she said, will find them.

“Swami said once that in his life, demons will come to him, same as they did with Krishna,” she said. “Yes, they are criminals. Yes, they are devotees, and yes, they are children of Swami. They have done so much damage to so many people. Our own truth and our own dharma, that’s the only thing that we can hold now.”

Still, she asked, “Can you say to a family that has suffered, to a family that has been starving, that these people who ruined their lives are children of God?”

Ravi Lakshminarayan, a lifelong devotee who has lived at the ashram in India since retirement, said he believes that Sai Baba’s blessings only work on those who truly make good.

“Baba blesses everyone profusely,” he said, “but if the person so blessed steps on to wrong path in life, all the blessings from Baba which protects from adversaries starts getting eroded and over time becomes zero. The person becomes vulnerable to circumstances of his or her own making. I have personally seen many stalwarts and celebrities who have fallen from grace.”

Zohran Mamdani’s 2026 Mayoral Inauguration Block Party in New York City


By Markos Papadatos

MUSIC EDITOR
DIGITAL JOURNAL

January 2, 2026


Zohran Mamdani was born in Uganda to a family of Indian origin before moving to the United States at age seven - Copyright AFP TIMOTHY A.CLARY

On January 1, 2026, NYC Mayor Zohran Mamdani hosted a massive Block Party and Inaugural event near New York’s City Hall.

He arrived there with his wife, Rama Duwaji, in a yellow taxicab.

On the night prior, Mamdani took his oath of office on the Quaran, which was administered by New York Attorney General Letitia “Tish” James in a defunct old City Hall subway station, as his wife looked on.

Mamdani was sworn in as the 112th mayor of New York City, and he is the first-ever Muslim and Asian American mayor to hold this position.

Mamdani is a member of the Democratic Socialist party, and he previously served as a New York State Assemble member, where he represented Astoria.

At 34 years old, Mamdani is New York City’s youngest mayor in generations (since Hugh J. Grant was inaugurated at age 30 on January 1st, 1889).

Despite the freezing temperatures, this inauguration block party was well-attended with New York Governor Kathy Hochul, Rep. Alexandria Ocasio Cortez (AOC), Senator Chuck Schumer, Senator Bernie Sanders, New York Attorney General Letitia James.

Due to the heavy cold, most of these politicians were bundled up in gloves, coats, and navy-blue airline-style blankets.

Former New York City Mayors Bill de Blasio and Eric Adams were also in the crowd, along with Former Republican mayoral candidate Curtis Sliwa.

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez made the opening remarks, while Bernie Sanders conducted the ceremonial swearing in. “Thank you to the man whose leadership I seek most to emulate, who I am so grateful to be sworn in by today, Senator Bernie Sanders,” Mamdani said.

“My fellow New Yorkers, today begins a new era,” Mamdani said in his inauguration speech. “I stand before you moved by the privilege of taking this sacred oath, humbled by the faith that you have placed in me, and honored to serve as Mayor of New York City, but I do not stand alone,” the leftist mayor explained.

“I stand alongside you, the tens of thousands gathered here in Lower Manhattan, warmed against the January chill by the resurgent flame of hope,” he said.

“I promise you this: If you are a New Yorker, I am your mayor. Regardless of whether we agree, I will protect you, celebrate with you, mourn alongside you, and never for a second, hide from you,” Mamdani elaborated.

Mamdani went on to thank his parents, “Mama and Baba” for raising him, as well as for teaching him how to be in this world and for bringing him to this city.

New Yorkers have taken note of Mamdani’s enthusiastic support of his wife, Rama Duwaji.— © AFP

“Thank you to my family, from Kampala to Delhi, and thank you to my wife, Rama, for being my best friend, and for always showing me the beauty in everyday things,” Mamdani acknowledged.

“Most of all, thank you to the people of New York,” Mamdani underscored.

“Beginning today, we will govern expansively and audaciously,” he noted. “We may not always succeed but never will we be accused of lacking the courage to try.”

Mamdani reiterated several of the promises he made during his mayoral campaign sch as freezing the rent for rent-stabilized apartments and vowed to make “buses fast and free.”

Following his inaugural address speech, confetti drizzled and fell over City Hall.

Besides the cold temperatures, only downside was that there was no access to public restrooms or food concession stands or music as supporters of Mamdani gathered in the barricade pens to celebrate this historic moment.

Please Note: This journalist attended the 2026 Zohran Mamdani NYC Inauguration Block Party in-person.

Written ByMarkos Papadatos
Markos Papadatos is Digital Journal's Editor-at-Large for Music News. Papadatos is a Greek-American journalist and educator that has authored over 24,000 original articles over the past 19 years. He has interviewed some of the biggest names in music, entertainment, lifestyle, magic, and sports. He is an 18-time "Best of Long Island" winner, where for three consecutive years (2020, 2021, and 2022), he was honored as the "Best Long Island Personality" in Arts & Entertainment, an honor that has gone to Billy Joel six times.

Zohran Mamdani and the Long Muslim Thread in the American Story

America is not a Christian nation, nor a nation for whites, nor a nation for the rich alone. It is a nation built on principles shared by all who live in it, and Islam has always been part of that inheritance.


Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) swears in Zohran Mamdani as New York City mayor as Mamdani’s wife Rama Duwaji looks on at City Hall on Thursday January 1, 2026 in New York, New York.
(Photo by Spencer Platt/Getty Images)

George Cassidy Payne
Jan 02, 2026

Common Dreams


“If there is no struggle, there is no progress.” —Frederick Douglass


America’s story has always been a story of struggle—for liberty, for justice, for recognition. On a cold January afternoon outside City Hall, Zohran Mamdani stepped into that struggle. Raising his right hand, he took the oath of office as mayor of New York City—the first Muslim ever to hold the city’s highest office—embodying Douglass’ truth: Progress demands courage, perseverance, and the relentless pursuit of inclusion.


‘Welcome to a New Era for NYC’: Zohran Mamdani Sworn In as New York City Mayor


The headlines captured the surface: a 25-minute inaugural address, roughly 4,000 spectators, a private swearing in just after midnight at the Old City Hall subway station, appearances by Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-N.Y.) and Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.). But the moment ran far deeper. Mamdani’s inauguration was not only a municipal milestone; it was the latest chapter in a debate as old as the republic itself: where Muslims belong in the American story—and whether they ever truly have.

That question stretches back to July 30, 1788, when North Carolina ratified the Constitution. Anti-federalist William Lancaster warned that by rejecting religious tests for office, the new nation might allow Muslims to govern. “Papists may occupy that chair,” he cautioned, “and Mahometans may take it. I see nothing against it.” A warning, then. A prophecy, now.

When Mamdani declared, “New York belongs to all who live in it,” he answered a question first posed in fear in 1788, tested in war, dramatized by Muhammad Ali, and deferred for generations.

There were no Muslim candidates in 1788. But there were Muslims in America—thousands of enslaved Africans whose presence exposed the republic’s deepest contradiction. Between 5 and 20% of enslaved Africans were Muslim, many literate in Arabic, bearing names like Fatima, Ali, Hassan, and Said. Their faith was violently suppressed, yet fragments endured—in memory, language, and resistance.

Even the founding generation reflected this tension. Thomas Jefferson studied the Quran and treated Islam as a serious intellectual tradition, even as he owned enslaved Muslims. Islam existed in theory, in human reality, and yet was denied civic recognition.

That tension carried forward into the nation’s greatest moral reckoning: the Civil War.

Muslims fought for the Union. Mohammed Kahn enlisted in the 43rd New York Infantry. Nicholas Said—born Mohammed Ali ben Said in Nigeria, raised Muslim, later converted to Christianity—served as a sergeant in the 55th Massachusetts Colored Regiment and as a Union clerk. Captain Moses Osman held a high-ranking post in the 104th Illinois Infantry. Union rosters show names like Ali, Hassan, and Said, hinting at a wider Muslim presence than history often acknowledges.

Yet rifles were not the only weapons. Islam entered the moral imagination through words and witness. Sen. Charles Sumner, nearly beaten on the Senate floor, quoted the Quran to condemn slavery. Ayuba Suleiman Diallo—Job ben Solomon—had already unsettled transatlantic assumptions through literacy, eloquence, and dignity. His story endured into the Civil War, republished in 1864 to reinforce the war’s moral purpose. Overseas, Hussein Pasha of Tunisia urged the US to abolish slavery “in the name of humanity,” showing Muslim advocacy was part of a global ethical conversation.

Muslims remained largely invisible in America’s public self-understanding—until the 20th century produced a figure too large to ignore.

Muhammad Ali, still the most recognizable man on Earth decades after his gold medal at the 1960 Rome Olympics, transformed boxing and American consciousness alike. He was named “Athlete of the Century” by Sports Illustrated, GQ, and the BBC; “Kentuckian of the Century” by his home state; and became a global icon through speed, grace, and audacious charm.

Ali’s significance extended far beyond the ring. By insisting on the name Muhammad Ali instead of Cassius Clay, he forced America to confront the legacy of slavery embedded in naming itself. His embrace of Islam was unapologetic and public. His refusal to be drafted into the Vietnam War cost him his title and livelihood, yet anticipated the anti-war movement. His fights in Kinshasa, Manila, and Kuala Lumpur shifted attention from superpower dominance toward global conscience.

Ali’s humanitarian work was relentless: delivering over 232 million meals, medical supplies to children in Jakarta, orphans in Liberia, street children in Morocco. At home, he visited soup kitchens, hospitals, advocated for children’s protections, and taught tolerance in schools through his book Healing. For this, he was honored as a United Nations Messenger of Peace, cited by Amnesty International, and recognized by President Jimmy Carter as “Mr. International Friendship.”

Ali showed the nation something fundamental: that Islam is American. That Muslims have always belonged to the moral and civic fabric of this country. That a nation built on life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, on religious tolerance, on care for the poor, is naturally aligned with Islam. Mamdani is American not in spite of his faith, but because Islam is American.

It is against this long arc—from slavery to abolition, civil rights, global conscience, and the moral courage of Muhammad Ali—that Zohran Mamdani’s inauguration comes into focus.

Mamdani’s life traces modern routes of migration and belonging. Born in Kampala, Uganda to parents with roots in South Asia, he was raised in New York City. Yet his rise fulfills an older constitutional promise. In his inaugural address, he thanked his parents—“Mama and Baba”—acknowledged family “from Kampala to Delhi,” and recalled taking his oath of American citizenship on Pearl Street.

When Mamdani declared, “New York belongs to all who live in it,” he answered a question first posed in fear in 1788, tested in war, dramatized by Muhammad Ali, and deferred for generations. He named mosques alongside churches, synagogues, temples, gurdwaras, and mandirs, making visible what history had long rendered partial. When he spoke of halal cart vendors, Palestinian New Yorkers, Black homeowners, and immigrant families bound together by labor and hope, he articulated a civic vision rooted in lived American reality.

Notably, Mamdani did not frame his Muslim identity as something to defend. It simply existed. “Where else,” he asked, “could a Muslim kid like me grow up eating bagels and lox every Sunday?” Hybridity was not an exception. It was inheritance.

Yet it is equally important to recognize that Mamdani’s historic victory does not make him infallible, nor should it. The fact that he is the first Muslim mayor of New York City is not a personal achievement alone—it reflects the barriers that Muslims, like many others, have historically faced in participating fully in American democracy. Discrimination, racial and religious bias, and systemic obstacles made this moment possible only now, not because of any failing on his part. He will, like all mayors before him, make mistakes. He will face limits, criticism, and flaws—because he is human. To hold him to an impossible standard would be to misunderstand both history and democracy.

There is, too, something unmistakably American about Mamdani’s politics. By invoking La Guardia, Dinkins, and de Blasio; by embracing democratic socialism without apology; by grounding his agenda in labor, affordability, and collective responsibility, he situates himself firmly in an American tradition—one that echoes the abolitionists, the New Deal, and the moral courage of Ali.

And as Malcolm X reminds us, this is the guiding principle for American civic life: “I believe in the brotherhood of man, all men, but I don’t believe in forcing anyone to accept it.”

This is what makes the moment historic. Not that a Muslim has finally entered American politics, but that an old constitutional anxiety—once voiced as a warning—has become an ordinary fact of civic life. Islam, Mamdani, and the ideals of this nation converge in a single, undeniable truth: America is not a Christian nation, nor a nation for whites, nor a nation for the rich alone. It is a nation built on principles shared by all who live in it, and Islam has always been part of that inheritance.

The work, as Mamdani said, has only just begun. But the story his inauguration tells—that Muslims were enslaved at the nation’s birth, debated at its founding, fought in its wars, shaped its abolitionist conscience, transformed its civil rights culture, and now govern its greatest city—is no longer hypothetical.

It stands, unmistakably, on the steps of City Hall.

‘We Will Govern Expansively and Audaciously’: Zohran Mamdani’s Inaugural Address

To those who insist that the era of big government is over, hear me when I say this—no longer will City Hall hesitate to use its power to improve New Yorkers’ lives.

Zohran Mamdani addresses New Yorkers as he is inaugurated on January 1, 2026.
(Photo via NYC.gov)

Zohran Mamdani
Jan 02, 2026

Common Dreams


New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani prepared these remarks to deliver at his inauguration on January 1, 2026.


My fellow New Yorkers—today begins a new era.




I stand before you moved by the privilege of taking this sacred oath, humbled by the faith that you have placed in me, and honored to serve as either your 111th or 112th Mayor of New York City. But I do not stand alone.

I stand alongside you, the tens of thousands gathered here in Lower Manhattan, warmed against the January chill by the resurgent flame of hope.

Seldom do we hold such an opportunity to transform and reinvent. Rarer still is it the people themselves whose hands are the ones upon the levers of change.

I stand alongside countless more New Yorkers watching from cramped kitchens in Flushing and barbershops in East New York, from cell phones propped against the dashboards of parked taxi cabs at LaGuardia, from hospitals in Mott Haven and libraries in El Barrio that have too long known only neglect.

I stand alongside construction workers in steel-toed boots and halal cart vendors whose knees ache from working all day.

I stand alongside neighbors who carry a plate of food to the elderly couple down the hall, those in a rush who still lift strangers’ strollers up subway stairs, and every person who makes the choice day after day, even when it feels impossible, to call our city home.

I stand alongside over 1 million New Yorkers who voted for this day nearly two months ago—and I stand just as resolutely alongside those who did not. I know there are some who view this administration with distrust or disdain, or who see politics as permanently broken. And while only action can change minds, I promise you this: If you are a New Yorker, I am your Mayor. Regardless of whether we agree, I will protect you, celebrate with you, mourn alongside you, and never, not for a second, hide from you.

I thank the labor and movement leaders here today, the activists and elected officials who will return to fighting for New Yorkers the second this ceremony concludes, and the performers who have gifted us with their talent.

Thank you to Governor Hochul for joining us. And thank you to Mayor Adams—Dorothy’s son, a son of Brownsville who rose from washing dishes to the highest position in our city—for being here as well. He and I have had our share of disagreements, but I will always be touched that he chose me as the mayoral candidate that he would most want to be trapped with on an elevator.

Thank you to the two titans who, as an Assemblymember, I’ve had the privilege of being represented by in Congress—Nydia Velázquez and our incredible opening speaker Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. You have paved the way for this moment.

Thank you to the man whose leadership I seek most to emulate, who I am so grateful to be sworn in by today—Senator Bernie Sanders.

Thank you to my teams—from the Assembly, to the campaign, to the transition and now, the team I am so excited to lead from City Hall.

In so doing, we will provide our own answer to that age-old question—who does New York belong to? Well, my friends, we can look to Madiba and the South African Freedom Charter: New York “belongs to all who live in it.”

Thank you to my parents, Mama and Baba, for raising me, for teaching me how to be in this world, and for having brought me to this city. Thank you to my family—from Kampala to Delhi. And thank you to my wife Rama for being my best friend, and for always showing me the beauty in everyday things.

Most of all—thank you to the people of New York.

A moment like this comes rarely. Seldom do we hold such an opportunity to transform and reinvent. Rarer still is it the people themselves whose hands are the ones upon the levers of change.

And yet we know that too often in our past, moments of great possibility have been promptly surrendered to small imagination and smaller ambition. What was promised was never pursued, what could have changed remained the same. For the New Yorkers most eager to see our city remade, the weight has only grown heavier, the wait has only grown longer.

In writing this address, I have been told that this is the occasion to reset expectations, that I should use this opportunity to encourage the people of New York to ask for little and expect even less. I will do no such thing. The only expectation I seek to reset is that of small expectations.

Beginning today, we will govern expansively and audaciously. We may not always succeed. But never will we be accused of lacking the courage to try.

To those who insist that the era of big government is over, hear me when I say this—no longer will City Hall hesitate to use its power to improve New Yorkers’ lives.

For too long, we have turned to the private sector for greatness, while accepting mediocrity from those who serve the public. I cannot blame anyone who has come to question the role of government, whose faith in democracy has been eroded by decades of apathy. We will restore that trust by walking a different path—one where government is no longer solely the final recourse for those struggling, one where excellence is no longer the exception.

We expect greatness from the cooks wielding a thousand spices, from those who stride out onto Broadway stages, from our starting point guard at Madison Square Garden. Let us demand the same from those who work in government. In a city where the mere names of our streets are associated with the innovation of the industries that call them home, we will make the words “City Hall” synonymous with both resolve and results.

As we embark upon this work, let us advance a new answer to the question asked of every generation: Who does New York belong to?

For much of our history, the response from City Hall has been simple: It belongs only to the wealthy and well-connected, those who never strain to capture the attention of those in power.

Here, where the language of the New Deal was born, we will return the vast resources of this city to the workers who call it home.

Working people have reckoned with the consequences. Crowded classrooms and public housing developments where the elevators sit out of order; roads littered with potholes and buses that arrive half an hour late, if at all; wages that do not rise and corporations that rip off consumers and employees alike.

And still—there have been brief, fleeting moments where the equation changed.

Twelve years ago, Bill de Blasio stood where I stand now as he promised to “put an end to economic and social inequalities” that divided our city into two.

In 1990, David Dinkins swore the same oath I swore today, vowing to celebrate the “gorgeous mosaic” that is New York, where every one of us is deserving of a decent life.

And nearly six decades before him, Fiorella La Guardia took office with the goal of building a city that was “far greater and more beautiful” for the hungry and the poor.

Some of these Mayors achieved more success than others. But they were unified by a shared belief that New York could belong to more than just a privileged few. It could belong to those who operate our subways and rake our parks, those who feed us biryani and beef patties, picanha and pastrami on rye. And they knew that this belief could be made true if only government dared to work hardest for those who work hardest.

Over the years to come, my administration will resurrect that legacy. City Hall will deliver an agenda of safety, affordability, and abundance—where government looks and lives like the people it represents, never flinches in the fight against corporate greed, and refuses to cower before challenges that others have deemed too complicated.

In so doing, we will provide our own answer to that age-old question—who does New York belong to? Well, my friends, we can look to Madiba and the South African Freedom Charter: New York “belongs to all who live in it.”

Together, we will tell a new story of our city.

This will not be a tale of one city, governed only by the 1%. Nor will it be a tale of two cities, the rich versus the poor.

It will be a tale of 8 and a half million cities, each of them a New Yorker with hopes and fears, each a universe, each of them woven together.

The authors of this story will speak Pashto and Mandarin, Yiddish and Creole. They will pray in mosques, at shul, at church, at Gurdwaras and Mandirs and temples—and many will not pray at all.

They will be Russian Jewish immigrants in Brighton Beach, Italians in Rossville, and Irish families in Woodhaven—many of whom came here with nothing but a dream of a better life, a dream which has withered away. They will be young people in cramped Marble Hill apartments where the walls shake when the subway passes. They will be Black homeowners in St. Albans whose homes represent a physical testament to triumph over decades of lesser-paid labor and redlining. They will be Palestinian New Yorkers in Bay Ridge, who will no longer have to contend with a politics that speaks of universalism and then makes them the exception.

From today onwards, we will understand victory very simply: something with the power to transform lives, and something that demands effort from each of us, every single day.

Few of these 8 and a half million will fit into neat and easy boxes. Some will be voters from Hillside Avenue or Fordham Road who supported President Trump a year before they voted for me, tired of being failed by their party’s establishment. The majority will not use the language that we often expect from those who wield influence. I welcome the change. For too long, those fluent in the good grammar of civility have deployed decorum to mask agendas of cruelty.

Many of these people have been betrayed by the established order. But in our administration, their needs will be met. Their hopes and dreams and interests will be reflected transparently in government. They will shape our future.

And if for too long these communities have existed as distinct from one another, we will draw this city closer together. We will replace the frigidity of rugged individualism with the warmth of collectivism. If our campaign demonstrated that the people of New York yearn for solidarity, then let this government foster it. Because no matter what you eat, what language you speak, how you pray, or where you come from—the words that most define us are the two we all share: New Yorkers.

And it will be New Yorkers who reform a long-broken property tax system. New Yorkers who will create a new Department of Community Safety that will tackle the mental health crisis and let the police focus on the job they signed up to do. New Yorkers who will take on the bad landlords who mistreat their tenants and free small business owners from the shackles of bloated bureaucracy. And I am proud to be one of those New Yorkers.

When we won the primary last June, there were many who said that these aspirations and those who held them had come out of nowhere. Yet one man’s nowhere is another man’s somewhere. This movement came out of 8 and a half million somewheres—taxi cab depots and Amazon warehouses, DSA meetings and curbside domino games. The powers that be had looked away from these places for quite some time—if they’d known about them at all—so they dismissed them as nowhere. But in our city, where every corner of these five boroughs holds power, there is no nowhere and there is no no one. There is only New York, and there are only New Yorkers.

8 and a half million New Yorkers will speak this new era into existence. It will be loud. It will be different. It will feel like the New York we love.

No matter how long you have called this city home, that love has shaped your life. I know that it has shaped mine.

This is the city where I set landspeed records on my razor scooter at the age of 12. Quickest four blocks of my life.

The city where I ate powdered donuts at halftime during AYSO soccer games and realized I probably wouldn’t be going pro, devoured too-big slices at Koronet Pizza, played cricket with my friends at Ferry Point Park, and took the 1 train to the BX10 only to still show up late to Bronx Science.

The city where I have gone on hunger strike just outside these gates, sat claustrophobic on a stalled N train just after Atlantic Avenue, and waited in quiet terror for my father to emerge from 26 Federal Plaza.

The city where I took a beautiful woman named Rama to McCarren Park on our first date and swore a different oath to become an American citizen on Pearl Street.

So, standing together with the wind of purpose at our backs, we will do something that New Yorkers do better than anyone else: We will set an example for the world.

To live in New York, to love New York, is to know that we are the stewards of something without equal in our world. Where else can you hear the sound of the steelpan, savor the smell of sancocho, and pay $9 for coffee on the same block? Where else could a Muslim kid like me grow up eating bagels and lox every Sunday?

That love will be our guide as we pursue our agenda. Here, where the language of the New Deal was born, we will return the vast resources of this city to the workers who call it home. Not only will we make it possible for every New Yorker to afford a life they love once again—we will overcome the isolation that too many feel, and connect the people of this city to one another.

The cost of childcare will no longer discourage young adults from starting a family—because we will deliver universal childcare for the many by taxing the wealthiest few.

Those in rent-stabilized homes will no longer dread the latest rent hike—because we will freeze the rent.

Getting on a bus without worrying about a fare hike or whether you’ll be late to your destination will no longer be deemed a small miracle—because we will make buses fast and free.

These policies are not simply about the costs we make free, but the lives we fill with freedom. For too long in our city, freedom has belonged only to those who can afford to buy it. Our City Hall will change that.

These promises carried our movement to City Hall, and they will carry us from the rallying cries of a campaign to the realities of a new era in politics.

Two Sundays ago, as snow softly fell, I spent 12 hours at the Museum of the Moving Image in Astoria, listening to New Yorkers from every borough as they told me about the city that is theirs.

We discussed construction hours on the Van Wyck Expressway and EBT eligibility, affordable housing for artists and ICE raids. I spoke to a man named TJ who said that one day a few years ago, his heart broke as he realized he would never get ahead here, no matter how hard he worked. I spoke to a Pakistani Auntie named Samina, who told me that this movement had fostered something too rare: softness in people’s hearts. As she said in Urdu: logon ke dil badalgyehe.

142 New Yorkers out of 8 and a half million. And yet—if anything united each person sitting across from me, it was the shared recognition that this moment demands a new politics, and a new approach to power.

We will deliver nothing less as we work each day to make this city belong to more of its people than it did the day before.

Here is what I want you to expect from the administration that this morning moved into the building behind me.

We will transform the culture of City Hall from one of “no” to one of “how?”

We will answer to all New Yorkers, not to any billionaire or oligarch who thinks they can buy our democracy.

We will govern without shame and insecurity, making no apology for what we believe. I was elected as a democratic socialist and I will govern as a democratic socialist. I will not abandon my principles for fear of being deemed radical. As the great senator from Vermont once said: “What’s radical is a system which gives so much to so few and denies so many people the basic necessities of life.”

We will strive each day to ensure that no New Yorker is priced out of any one of those basic necessities.

And throughout it all we will, in the words of Jason Terrance Phillips, better known as Jadakiss or J to the Muah, be “outside”—because this is a government of New York, by New York, and for New York.

Before I end, I want to ask you, if you are able, whether you are here today or anywhere watching, to stand.

I ask you to stand with us now, and every day that follows. City Hall will not be able to deliver on our own. And while we will encourage New Yorkers to demand more from those with the great privilege of serving them, we will encourage you to demand more of yourselves as well.

The movement we began over a year ago did not end with our victory on Election Night. It will not end this afternoon. It lives on with every battle we will fight, together; every blizzard and flood we withstand, together; every moment of fiscal challenge we overcome with ambition, not austerity, together; every way we pursue change in working peoples’ interests, rather than at their expense, together.

No longer will we treat victory as an invitation to turn off the news. From today onwards, we will understand victory very simply: something with the power to transform lives, and something that demands effort from each of us, every single day.

What we achieve together will reach across the five boroughs and it will resonate far beyond. There are many who will be watching. They want to know if the left can govern. They want to know if the struggles that afflict them can be solved. They want to know if it is right to hope again.

So, standing together with the wind of purpose at our backs, we will do something that New Yorkers do better than anyone else: We will set an example for the world. If what Sinatra said is true, let us prove that anyone can make it in New York—and anywhere else too. Let us prove that when a city belongs to the people, there is no need too small to be met, no person too sick to be made healthy, no one too alone to feel like New York is their home.

The work continues, the work endures, the work, my friends, has only just begun.

West Bengal: How Climate Change is Supercharging Lightning Strikes Across State

Subhrajit Sen | 18 Dec 2025


As hotter, wetter summers drive up lightning strikes across Bengal, rural families in Hooghly are left to face deadly storms with patchy alerts, thin compensation and a trail of invisible survivors.

Hooghly, West Bengal: On June 6, 2021, lightning killed 26 persons in West Bengal in a single day. Ten of them were from Hooghly district, just a few kilometres from this reporter’s home in Chandannagar. Among the dead were Hemanta Guchait (40) and Malabika Guchait (35) of Balipur village in Tarakeshwar block. They were returning from their paddy field when lightning struck, leaving behind their daughter, Raika (12).

When this reporter visited the family in October 2025, Raika’s grandmother, Puja Samanta (65), still struggled to speak about that afternoon. “Raika goes to school now,” she said, “but we don’t let her step outside when clouds gather. Even a distant rumble makes her cry.”

Raika has grown taller since that day, but she carries memories too heavy for her age. “I miss my Baba,” she whispered. “He used to drop me at school.”

Her story captures what’s happening across Hooghly, one of West Bengal’s richest agricultural regions, now witnessing a quiet but deadly crisis.

Hooghly district lies along the banks of the river Hooghly, in the lower stretch of the Ganga. Known for its potato, sugarcane and rice production, it is among the state’s top agricultural contributors. But with open farmlands and humidity carried in from the Bay of Bengal, it is also one of West Bengal’s most lightning-prone regions, according to the India Meteorological Department.

Blocks like Pandua and Tarakeshwar sit at the centre of this danger zone. Pandua, a 282-square-kilometre administrative block, is mostly agricultural, with the Behula and Kunti rivers running through it. Tarakeshwar, a major pilgrimage site 58 kilometres from Kolkata, shares the same flat topography and weather patterns, perfect conditions for frequent thunderstorms and lightning.

Between 2018 and 2024, 1,259 people died in West Bengal due to lightning strikes, IMD data shows. In 2025 alone, over 139 deaths have already been reported. Nationally, lightning accounts for more than 35% of all natural hazard deaths.

Climate patterns turning violent

Scientists say these deaths are not random. “Rising global and surface temperatures, along with warming water bodies, are making the atmosphere more unstable,” said Mahesh Palawat, Vice-President (Meteorology and Climate Change) at Skymet Weather. “That instability leads to stronger convection, which produces more thunderstorms and lightning.”

A 2021 study published in Atmospheric Chemistry and Physics by R Chakraborty et al. (IIT Kharagpur) found that the Gangetic plains and eastern coast have become new lightning hotspots. The study links the surge to higher surface heating and moisture inflow from the Bay of Bengal which is a direct consequence of climate change.

Palawat added, “We’re seeing longer thunderstorm durations and multiple strikes in one event. Global warming has supercharged what used to be normal monsoon behaviour.”

Multiple national studies indicate a sharp rise in lightning activity across India, with total strikes increasing nearly 400% between 2019-20 and 2024-25. National Crime Records Bureau data confirms that lightning deaths continue to grow each year — 2,728 fatalities in 2021, 2,885 in 2022 and 2,558 in 2023 — making lightning the single deadliest natural hazard in the country.

The survivor’s body remembers

For Debashree Das of Beremul village in Hooghly, that scientific explanation offers little comfort. Her husband, Gokul Das, died in July 2020 when lightning struck his field beside their home.

She was 32 then, raising two daughters aged three and six. She had no savings, no job, and no support system. “We ran out of money within months,” she said. “I couldn’t feed my children or my old mother-in-law.” With no steady income, the village elders arranged her remarriage to a local farmer. She now has a third child from this marriage.

“How will my daughters live their whole life without their father?” she asked. “They still get scared when thunder starts. Even a small rainfall makes them hide under the bed.”

Lightning deaths ripple through rural families, leaving women socially and economically vulnerable long after the storm ends.

In Khanyan, a small town in Pandua block, Sekh Hasibuddin Khan (35) still feels pain in his right arm three years after being struck. He survived, but barely.

“It felt like a truck hit me from behind,” he recalled. “Then everything went dark.” When he woke up, he was in Pandua Rural Hospital. His mother said he spent two years unable to move. “His right side was paralysed. We borrowed around Rs 50,000 for private treatment because the government hospital couldn’t help,” she said.

Even now, Hasibuddin walks slowly and avoids open fields during the monsoon. “I can sense it before a storm starts,” he said. “The air changes, and I get scared.”

Across West Bengal, a growing number of non-fatal lightning injuries go unrecorded. Survivors face neurological issues, burns and trauma, but rarely receive compensation or medical follow-up.

Under the state’s ex-gratia scheme, families receive Rs 2 lakh for deaths caused by lightning strikes.

Since over the past few years we have observed lightning strikes increasing every year, the state government has included them under the ex-gratia scheme in 2005, West Bengal Disaster Management and Civil Defence Department officer in charge Nirmal Senapati said.

The central government adds another Rs 2 lakh from the Prime Minister’s National Relief Fund (PMNRF).But survivors of lightning injuries receive nothing.

Treatment, meanwhile, is expensive. Many require long-term care for paralysis or burns, and nearby sub-divisional hospitals often lack the necessary facilities, pushing families towards private hospitals they cannot afford. As a result, many survivors fall into heavy debt while trying to recover.

In Itachuna Gram Panchayat, under Pandua block, Dipa Mandal (45) remembers the night lightning hit her roof in August 2025. Sparks shot through her home, burning her eight-month-old granddaughter’s feet. “We thought we were going to die,” she said.

The baby survived after two weeks in hospital, but what followed shook the family in a different way. “People avoided our house. They said lightning strikes where evil spirits live,” Dipa recalled. “Those words hurt more than the lightning.”

For days, the family lived without electricity because no one, not even local electricians, was willing to visit. “Only after we went to the Gram Panchayat office and reported it did they finally send someone to fix it,” she said. The active boycott has ended, but she still senses mistrust among some neighbours.

In many villages of West Bengal, superstition deepens the impact of lightning, leaving survivors to cope not just with injury, but with isolation.

Outdated systems

Lightning detection in India is improving, but still patchy. The Indian Lightning Location Network (ILLN), run by Indian Institute of Tropical Meteorology (IITM) and the IMD, has expanded, yet coverage gaps persist in rural Bengal.

“Cities like Kolkata and Cuttack have only two Doppler radars, both old and covering about 100 nautical miles (185.2 km),” said Palawat. “We need more radars across eastern India for real-time tracking.”

A Doppler radar measures the speed and movement of weather systems by sending out microwave signals and analysing the frequency shift when they return. It helps meteorologists track storm clouds, rainfall intensity, and wind patterns which are crucial for monitoring thunderstorms and lightning-producing clouds. But its range of 100 nautical miles means it cannot capture fast-forming, hyperlocal storms beyond that radius. For districts like Hooghly, this often leaves dangerous blind spots.

Palawat also pointed to communication gaps. “Forecast data exists, but it doesn’t always reach those who need it like farmers working in the fields.”

To address this, the IITM and the Ministry of Earth Sciences (MoES) developed the “Damini” app, which sends GPS-based lightning alerts 30-40 minutes before a strike and provides safety tips in regional languages.

In reality, the app rarely functions in rural Bengal. “We installed it,” said Hasibuddin, “but it never warns us in time.” Every farmer interviewed echoed this, none reported receiving an alert before a lightning strike, and many cannot afford smartphones capable of running weather apps. Even when alerts exist, they simply do not reach the people actually working in the fields.

Srimanti Basak, Block Development Officer (BDO) of Pandua, acknowledged the problem. “We are working with IIT to fix the app,” she said. “Sometimes we don’t get proper data from the Gram Panchayat offices, which delays announcements.” Verified reports from the panchayats consistently show lightning deaths and injuries each year across Pandua, Tarakeshwar, Beremul, Khanyan and Itachuna — data the block office depends on to issue warnings.

Gram Panchayat members confirmed these gaps. They said they often send lightning-related reports to the block office, but poor connectivity, delayed verification and the lack of dedicated staff slow down the process. “By the time information reaches the right place, the storm has already passed,” one member said. Several added that they have been asking for automated weather-linked systems so that early warnings don’t depend on manual reporting.

Residents say the failure of alerts has made them distrustful of technology altogether. “If someone had warned us that day, maybe my husband would have stayed home,” said Debashree.

People across Hooghly have one clear demand: reliable, real-time warnings. “We get cyclone alerts,” said Hasibuddin. These arrive on mobile phones through government text messages, often 24-48 hours in advance, followed by loudspeaker announcements from panchayat offices. Households stock food, bring cattle indoors and avoid going out. “Why not lightning alerts through loudspeakers? It could save lives.”

Palawat agrees. “We need hyperlocal alerts integrated with panchayat systems. Even a 15-minute warning could prevent hundreds of deaths each year.”

The BDO of Pandua said her office is planning awareness campaigns through schools and community centres. “We’re training teachers and local leaders to spread safety information before the monsoon,” she said. This includes telling residents not to go outside when heavy clouds gather or during kalboishakhi storms, and to immediately take shelter if thunder starts suddenly. Many villagers, however, say this advice is difficult to follow when their livelihoods depend on working in open fields.

In Balipur, Raika still walks to school past the same field where her parents died. “When thunder starts,” she said, “I run home.”

Her voice carries the truth of an entire district, where families live with both the memory and the constant threat of lightning. As the climate warms and systems falter, Bengal’s farmers face not just storms, but the uncertainty of survival every time the sky turns grey.

Subhrajit Sen is a freelance journalist and a member of 101Reporters, a pan-India network of grassroots reporters.