The light turns red. A tiny hand appears—grimy, persistent—on your car window. A girl no older than six, barefoot and blank-eyed. Next to her stands a young mother holding a baby—unnaturally still, drugged, sedated to sleep for hours in the blistering sun. You fumble for coins, maybe glance away. But in that very moment, a system meant to protect her looks the other way too.
Goa’s recent crackdown on beggars by Chief Minister Pramod Sawant has triggered applause in some circles. But here’s the question no one seems to ask—What happens to the children?
History repeats
We’ve seen this performative sanitisation before—during the G20 events in Goa. The poor were pushed out of sight to welcome global leaders. Children vanished overnight. Once the summit ended, they quietly returned. The clean-up was for cameras, not for care. Now, the script seems dangerously familiar.
A network hidden in plain sight
Child begging is not a random act. It's a well-oiled network, a shadow economy exploiting hunger and desperation. Some children are trafficked, others migrate seasonally with families from drought-hit Latur, Osmanabad, parts of Rajasthan, and even beyond. Some come to sell cheap jewellery or balloons at festivals and zartras, others are forced to beg—drugged infants in arms—to arouse pity.
They live in deplorable makeshift shelters, vulnerable to abuse, exploitation, hunger, disease, and neglect. Their safety is nobody’s priority.
Laws that lie dormant
It’s not like Goa lacks legal tools.
The Goa, Daman and Diu Prevention of Begging Act, 1972, clearly defines "begging," provides for receiving centres, certified institutions, and mechanisms for rescue, detention, and rehabilitation. Yet, none of these shelters exist in practice.
The Goa Children’s Act, 2003 is another powerful but neglected law. It promises to protect children from abuse, exploitation, and trafficking and mandates safe shelter and rehabilitation. It outlines the rights of “children in difficult circumstances”—including street children and child labourers.
But these laws remain dusty documents in government archives, rarely discussed, barely enforced, and wholly disconnected from the ground reality.
Apathy by the system
that must protect
The Supreme Court of India, in a significant order, directed states to implement the Standard Operating Procedure (SOP) for Care and Protection of Children in Street Situations, developed by the National Commission for Protection of Child Rights (NCPCR).
This SOP demands:
· Mapping of street children: Identifying children living, working, or begging on the streets through coordinated surveys and outreach.
· Immediate rescue: Prompt removal of children from street situations by trained personnel, ensuring safety and dignity.
· Open shelters: Temporary spaces providing food, medical care, psychological support, and protection.
· Individual care plans (ICPs): Tailored plans for each rescued child addressing their needs—education, health, family reunification, or alternate care.
· Rehabilitation and reintegration: Long-term strategies to reintegrate children into society through education, skill-building, family support, or foster care systems.
In Goa, the District Child Protection Units (DCPUs) are inactive, indifferent, and largely invisible. They don’t map vulnerable children. They don’t coordinate rescues. They barely monitor welfare. While the CM announces crackdowns, the very agencies meant to act are asleep at the wheel.
Police protection missing in action
Under the Juvenile Justice Act, each district is mandated to have a Special Juvenile Police Unit (SJPU) which is non function and not constituted properly , with designated Child Welfare Police Officers (CWPOs). But in Goa:
· CWPOs (Child Welfare Police Officers) are either not formally appointed or, if appointed, remain unaware of their legal responsibilities under the Juvenile Justice Act.
· Without proper training or orientation, cases involving children are mishandled—viewed through a criminal lens rather than a protective one.
· The absence of child-sensitive approaches often leads to re-traumatisation, making children fearful of authorities rather than feeling safe and supported.
How do we expect protection when those tasked with safeguarding children don’t even know the laws that empower them?
No shelters. No mother-child homes. No plan.
There are no open shelters for street children in Goa. There are no mother-and-child homes, leaving no space for women with babies to be kept together during rescue. As a result, rescues become displacements, and separations become the norm.
Children are either sent back to unsafe environments or vanish altogether into deeper systems of abuse.
The migrant question—and the federal answer
A common but cruel argument often whispered is: Why should Goa invest in children who aren’t from here?
But the answer is clear: Children are children—irrespective of where they come from.
Besides, this isn’t only Goa’s burden. The Mission Vatsalya Scheme, run by the Government of India, allocates funds to every state—including Goa—for the rescue, care, and rehabilitation of children in street situations. This is a federally supported responsibility.
What’s lacking is not money.
It is will. It is humanity. It is courage to act.
The crackdown we really need
Chief Minister Sawant’s initiative must be lauded if—and only if—it leads to real protection and rehabilitation, not just superficial clean-ups.
Goa must:
· Activate and empower DCPUs: Ensure fully functional District Child Protection Units with dedicated staff and resources.
· Constitute and train CWPOs; strengthen SJPUs: Appoint Child Welfare Police Officers (CWPOs) in every police station, ensure they’re trained in child laws, and reconstitute Special Juvenile Police Units (SJPUs) for effective child-friendly policing.
· Implement the SOP: Follow the Supreme Court directive with concrete action plans, timelines, and accountability.
· Establish receiving centres and open shelters: Create proper institutions for temporary and long-term care of rescued children.
· Set up mother-child homes: Build shelter homes that allow young mothers and their children to stay together with dignity and support.
· Revive forgotten legislations: Enforce provisions under the Goa Children’s Act, 2003 and the Goa, Daman & Diu Prevention of Begging Act, 1972, both of which remain neglected.
· Spend Mission Vatsalya funds transparently: Use central assistance meaningfully for infrastructure, services, and outreach, and publish regular public audits.
The child at your car window is watching
What kind of Goa are we becoming?
One that hides its pain beneath tourism brochures and glowing GDPs?
Or one that stands up for every child—seen and unseen?
Will we keep removing children from streets for summits and selfies—only to abandon them when the spotlight dims?
Will the next red light you stop at show a different child, still waiting, still hungry, still invisible?
She isn’t just begging for a coin.
She’s begging to be seen. To be safe. To be loved. To matter.
And that, dear reader, is the question we can’t afford to ignore.
Peter F. Borges is an Assistant Professor of Social Work at the D.D. Kosambi School of Social Sciences and Behavioural Studies, Goa University. He has served as the Hon'ble Chairperson of the Goa State Commission for Protection of Child Rights
