With families unwilling or unable to receive them, children in conflict with the law wait in institutions while the system treats their cases as disposed of
In August, a 13-year-old girl accused of the murder of her grandfather at Karuvatta, in Keralam's Alappuzha district, was granted bail. But there was no home to return to. With none in her family coming forward to take her into their care, she remains in institutional accommodation.
Earlier this month, a 17-year-old boy lodged at the government observation home in Kottayam, Keralam, died by suicide. He had been arrested in a theft case and placed in the home, which houses children in conflict with the law.
The boy had been produced before the authorities more than once, and had gotten bail, but a crucial question remained unanswered: Who would take him home? With no family member stepping in, the teen remained at the observation home.
His death raises a troubling question about the juvenile justice system: What happens when a child’s case moves through the legal process, but no family member is willing or able to take responsibility for him?
What the law did not foresee
The circumstances of the girl differ sharply from those of the boy who died, and the allegations against her are far more serious.
Yet, the two cases converge on a common problem. A legal order does not, by itself, ensure that a child has a safe place to go.
The immediate concern is to grant bail and complete the legal process. Once that is done, the authorities often do not look at what happens next: KP Asha Mukundan, academic
For children in conflict with the law, bail is meant to be the rule rather than the exception. The Juvenile Justice (Care and Protection of Children) Act, 2015, envisages a system that protects children from the punitive logic of adult criminal justice and prioritises rehabilitation, family reintegration and their best interests. But the journey from a Juvenile Justice Board to a family, school or supportive community can be far more complicated than the legal process suggests.
The gap becomes particularly stark when parents refuse to receive a child, when a school excludes a child after a case, or when families lack the information and resources needed to navigate the system.
Case disposed, now what?
KP Asha Mukundan, associate professor at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences (TISS), Mumbai, who has worked on child rights and juvenile justice for decades, argues that the system is too heavily oriented towards the disposal of cases, with insufficient attention to what happens afterwards.
“When we discuss cases such as these suicides, we must recognise that the authorities have not looked at the situation from a social perspective,” she tells The Federal. “Everyone is looking at the disposal of cases. The immediate concern is to grant bail and complete the legal process. Once that is done, the authorities often do not look at what happens next.”
We still do not have adequately developed and clearly defined institutions to accommodate children, nor do we have a proper aftercare policy or the facilities needed to implement one. We are also constrained by limited human resources, inadequate technology and insufficient funding: A government official
The problem, therefore, is not simply the absence of a family member at the moment of release. It is the absence of a dependable support system that can identify the problem, assess the child’s circumstances and ensure that the next step is not another institutional dead-end.
Limited accommodation
“The idea of creating additional facilities may often seem straightforward. However, the infrastructure currently available for the rehabilitation of children is extremely limited, even in the comparatively better state of Keralam," says a senior government official who has handled children’s homes and juvenile probation for long.
"We still do not have adequately developed and clearly defined institutions to accommodate children, nor do we have a proper aftercare policy or the facilities needed to implement one,” she adds.
“We are also constrained by limited human resources, inadequate technology and insufficient funding. There is a shortage of properly trained personnel, counselling facilities and counsellors. Dedicated de-addiction centres and psychiatric care facilities for children are also lacking. What we need now is more skilled personnel, better technology and well-equipped, specialised facilities. Only when these resources are available will we be able to address such problems effectively,” she further says.
The law distinguishes between a child in conflict with the law and a child in need of care and protection. The categories describe different legal circumstances, but a child may need protection even while facing allegations in a criminal case.
When a family refuses to take a child back, that cannot remain an informal exchange between the parents and the staff at an observation home. The relevant child protection authorities must be informed, the child’s circumstances assessed and an appropriate care plan put in place: Asha Unnithan, Lawyer
An observation home is intended for the temporary reception, care and rehabilitation of children alleged to be in conflict with the law while an inquiry is pending. It is not supposed to become a long-term substitute for a home. A children’s home, meanwhile, serves a different purpose, providing care and protection to children who cannot safely remain with their families or have no suitable caregiver.
What needs to be done
Asha Unnithan, a Trissur-based lawyer who works on juvenile justice issues, says the authorities must act when parents refuse to take a child back. Such a child may need to be brought to the attention of the Child Welfare Committee (CWC), which can assess the circumstances and consider suitable care arrangements.
“When a family refuses to take a child back, that cannot remain an informal exchange between the parents and the staff at an observation home. The relevant child protection authorities must be informed, the child’s circumstances assessed and an appropriate care plan put in place. If family care is not possible, the authorities must consider appropriate alternatives under the child protection system,” Unnithan tells The Federal.
“The guiding principle is that institutional care should be the last resort. The objective is not merely to move a child from one institution to another, but to ensure a safe environment that supports the child’s development and rehabilitation,” she adds.
“Even when a child has been granted bail, keeping them in an observation home indefinitely because the family refuses to take custody defeats the purpose of a system built around rehabilitation and reintegration. At the same time, releasing a child without a safe and viable care arrangement can expose them to further harm. What matters is what happening to the child after the legal proceedings, and who takes responsibility for ensuring their care and protection,” Unnithan notes.
Nowhere to go
The Federal reached out to several children and young adults in Keralam who have received bail, but have nowhere to go and still put up in institutional facilities. Their cases are distinct and should not be treated as representative of all children in conflict with the law. They also underline why a legal case number alone tells us little about a young person’s life, family resources or prospects of rehabilitation.
Victor*, 18, whose father is a driver and mother works at a stationery shop, was arrested in a laptop theft case and spent 56 days in remand. When The Federal contacted the authorities, he had been granted bail 30 days earlier but remained in custody because no family member had come forward to take him home. His co-accused, all adults, had been released.
I know I could not bring up my son properly, and he went astray...I cannot take him back home. It is not that I do not love him, but I know it would not work: Mother of a teen in conflict with the law
Shyam*, 19, was arrested under the Arms Act for possessing a machete and spent 134 days in remand. When The Federal contacted the authorities, he had been granted bail 16 days earlier but had yet to be released. With no parents, Shyam had been raised in an orphanage since he was two-and-a-half years old.
Jithin’s* father is no longer alive, and his mother, a daily-wage worker under the VB-G RAM G scheme, is raising four children, all of them school-going. Jithin was detained following an altercation and had a prior theft case. His mother decided not to take him back. He spent 90 days in remand and had been granted bail 30 days before The Federal contacted the authorities, but remained in custody.
Bilal*, 19, son of a single mother who works as a cleaning staff member in a private firm, has an elder sister who worked as a hospital attendant and had studied up to Class 10. His case involves the NDPS Act and more than 100 days of remand, followed by a further period of institutional placement.
Different faces, one story
Despite differences in their circumstances, the children share a common socio-economic background. They come largely from lower-income or economically vulnerable families, where parents often struggle to provide stable care and support.
Some have dropped out of school, while others have had little opportunity to pursue education or secure stable employment. A few have already entered the informal workforce, taking up menial or daily-wage jobs. In several cases, family breakdown, the loss of a parent or the inability of caregivers to take responsibility has further complicated their situation.
“I am the family’s only breadwinner. My husband died a long time ago, and I do several jobs to feed my children. I know I could not bring up my son properly, and he went astray. Now he is completely caught up in drinking, smoking and God knows what else. The madam at the children’s home called to tell me he had been granted bail. But I have three other children to look after. I cannot take him back home. It is not that I do not love him, but I know it would not work,” the mother of one of the boys tells The Federal.
For many parents, a child’s entry into the juvenile justice system is their first encounter with the police, lawyers, the Juvenile Justice Board, and child protection authorities. They may not know which office to approach, what documents are required or what their legal options are.
Lack of information and clarity
Asha Mukundan of TISS says families often become entirely dependent on the police and lawyers because reliable information is not easily accessible.
She also raises concerns about the way legal aid is delivered in some places, where lawyers who are supposed to provide free assistance may also practise privately. Families may initially believe they are receiving free legal aid, only to be asked for fees or other payments later. “There is no reliable place where families can go to obtain this information,” she says.
Following the implementation of the Kaval project, the situation has improved considerably...it ensures the rehabilitation, education and protection of children in conflict with the law: Bindhu Krishna, Minister for Women and Child Development
The Juvenile Justice Act is intended to combine legal safeguards with social intervention. Yet, the system has become overly legalistic, Mukundan argues.
“Juvenile Justice Boards need both legal expertise and professional social work skills. But people with legal qualifications are often appointed to roles meant for social workers. Lawyers deal with legal rights and proceedings, while social workers are trained to understand family and community circumstances, provide counselling and support, and help children reintegrate into society. These skills are essential when working with children,” she adds.
Is the ‘purpose’ being defeated?
The issue is not whether legal professionals should be part of the juvenile justice system. It is whether legal proceedings are being supported by enough trained professionals who can work with children and families before, during and after a case.
For a system that claims rehabilitation as its purpose, the questions should extend beyond where a young person was held. Did they receive education or vocational support? Was their family assessed? Was counselling available? Was there a plan for returning to the community? And was anyone responsible for following up?
Those questions are central to understanding whether institutional care is helping a young person move forward or merely keeping them out of public view.
The Kaval project
According to Asha Mukundan, Keralam is in a comparatively better position than many other states because children can access community networks and non-governmental organisations. She credits the ‘Kaval’ project with building a network of counsellors, psychologists and other professionals to support children.
Bindhu Krishna, state Minister for Women and Child Development, reiterated this in the Assembly on October 16 while replying a question. “Following the implementation of the Kaval project, the situation has improved considerably. Kaval is implemented in collaboration with voluntary organisations to ensure the rehabilitation, education and protection of children in conflict with the law. Kaval Plus focuses on the community-based rehabilitation of children in vulnerable circumstances who require special support.
“Through these programmes, children receive bio-psycho-social support, taking into account their individual, family and social circumstances. The key objectives are to prevent children from engaging in risky behaviour, strengthen family and community support, link them with essential services and ensure their rehabilitation,” said the minister.
“In several states, very few organisations work specifically with children in conflict with the law. NGOs may focus on issues such as child labour, child marriage and sexual abuse, but juvenile justice receives far less attention and funding. As a result, children and their families have very few avenues to seek guidance and support,” says Mukundan.
Who is accountable?
Keralam’s comparatively stronger support network offers a starting point, but the existence of programmes does not guarantee that every child receives timely assistance. The cases in Kottayam and Karuvatta raise questions about whether the links between the Juvenile Justice Board, observation homes, families, the Child Welfare Committee, and district child protection authorities function reliably when a child cannot return home.
The state needs to establish whether there is a clear procedure for identifying such cases, notifying the appropriate authority and arranging an assessment. It must also be clear who is responsible for following up after a child is granted bail. Without that accountability, children may remain in institutional care because no agency takes ownership of the problem.
“When parents refuse to take a child back, the matter must be brought to the Child Welfare Committee. It must assess whether a suitable relative can take responsibility or whether an alternative care arrangement is needed. The decision must be guided by the child’s needs, not by institutional convenience or the absence of an immediate response from the family,” says advocate Asha Unnithan.
Need for better coordination
This also calls for better coordination between the legal and social care systems. A Juvenile Justice Board may handle the case, but the child’s future may depend on intervention from social workers, education officials, counsellors, probation officers and child protection personnel. If these actors operate in isolation, a child can fall through the gaps.
“Rehabilitation must begin as soon as a child enters the juvenile justice system, not after the legal proceedings are over. Whether the child needs support for substance use, help returning to school, family counselling or vocational training, these needs must be addressed from the outset rather than treated as separate issues to be dealt with later,” says Asha Mukundan.
“Counselling must also be accessible, both to children and their families. Parents may need help understanding the law and dealing with the fear or stigma associated with a case. Children may need support in coping with the experience of detention, family rejection or exclusion from school. Such interventions cannot be replaced by simply telling a family to take the child home,” says the aforementioned department official.
The promise of rehabilitation
The two cases discussed in the beginning of this story point to a question that should be answerable through official records: What is the procedure followed when a child is granted bail but no parent or guardian comes to receive them?
There is a need for regular follow-up, not just at the point of release but through the transition back to family and community life. A child returning home may need continuing counselling, support to re-enter school, vocational guidance or help repairing family relationships. Where a family cannot provide care, a suitable alternative must be identified. These are not optional additions to juvenile justice. They are central to the promise of rehabilitation.
The teenager who died in Kottayam and the girl accused in the Karuvatta murder case arrived at this point through very different circumstances. One death cannot, on its own, establish the scale of the problem, and the girl’s case must be understood without prejudging the allegations against her. But both cases expose the limits of a system that measures progress primarily through legal proceedings.
A bail order can end a period of legal detention. It cannot, by itself, restore a child’s education, repair family relationships or provide a safe place to live. That requires social work, sustained follow-up and an institution willing to take responsibility when a family cannot or will not.
For a juvenile justice system built around rehabilitation, the real test is not only what happens when a child appears before the Board. It is what happens after the hearing ends, the paperwork is completed and the child has to face the world again.
(*Names of all the teens cited in the story have been changed to protect their identities.)
(Suicides can be prevented. For help, please call Suicide Prevention Helplines: Neha Suicide Prevention Centre – 044-24640050; Aasara helpline for suicide prevention, emotional support & trauma help — +91-9820466726; Kiran, Mental health rehabilitation — 1800-599-0019, Disha 0471- 2552056, Maithri 0484 2540530, and Sneha’s suicide prevention helpline 044-24640050.)
