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Sunita Devi was nineteen years old when UJAS field workers first encountered her at a brick kiln on the outskirts of Jodhpur. She had been brought there as a child with her parents, who had accepted a small "advance" from the kiln owner — a sum that, under the logic of debt bondage, could never quite be repaid. Her parents worked. Sunita worked. Her younger siblings worked. Year after year, the debt remained, a fiction the kiln owner deployed with cold precision.

The liberation process was not instant. UJAS worked for months building trust with Sunita and other families, documenting the labour violations, and coordinating with the District Labour Commissioner and local police. When the families were finally freed, Sunita was given access to the UJAS Women's Crafts Centre — a space she described, in her own words, as "the first place I ever felt like a person, not a tool." She learned bandhani tie-dye, embroidery, and block printing under master artisans. Within eighteen months, her work was being sold at exhibitions in Jaipur and online.

Today, Sunita runs her own small unit under the UJAS cooperative umbrella, employing three other women from her former kiln community. She is saving to educate her daughter in a residential school. She sits on the UJAS women's advisory committee. When she speaks at community meetings, younger women lean in to listen. "They said I was born to carry bricks," she tells them. "I knew I was born to create something beautiful — I just needed someone to give me the tools."

Kavita Bishnoi did not set out to become a leader. She was a widow in her mid-thirties, farming a small plot of land in Barmer that had technically been in her late husband's name — land that her in-laws had begun to claim after his death, using informal village pressure and an old social norm that said women did not inherit. When UJAS women's rights workers arrived in her village for a legal literacy camp, Kavita was among the women who stayed after the session to ask more questions. She stayed later than anyone.

Over the next six months, Kavita helped UJAS identify 33 other women in her panchayat area who were in similar situations — widows, deserted wives, or women from landless households who had legitimate entitlements under existing law but had never been able to assert them. With UJAS's legal support, she co-organised a women's march that covered four villages and ended at the tehsil office with a collective demand for land records to be transferred into women's names. The local revenue officials, initially dismissive, were met with a crowd of over 400 women who refused to disperse until they received written acknowledgement of their petition.

The campaign succeeded. By early 2023, 34 women — including Kavita — had received land titles in their own names. Several have since used these titles as collateral to access bank loans. Kavita now leads a women's rights monitoring committee in her block, training others to navigate land records and legal processes. She has travelled to Jaipur twice to testify before state-level advocacy forums. "No one gave us the land," she says, standing straight. "We stood, we marched, we demanded — and they had no choice but to listen."

For the Hindu minority living in Pakistan, religious persecution is a daily reality. The testimonies shared at the public hearing painted a harrowing picture of a community systematically stripped of its fundamental rights. Mr. Chetan Ram shared the heartbreaking story of a nine-month-old infant girl from his community who passed away. In Hinduism, cremation is the mandated last rite, yet Pakistani authorities and local leaders forcibly buried the child against her family's will, denying them their most sacred religious practices.

The oppression extends into every facet of life. Sindhi blogger and activist Mr. Rakesh Lakhani explained how hostility toward Hindus has disseminated to all corners of Pakistan. Establishing Hindi newspapers is prohibited, landlords routinely interrupt religious sermons (Path), and laborers are frequently denied their proper wages. Perhaps most chilling are the widespread accounts of the abduction of young Hindu girls, such as 17-year-old Rinkle Kumari, who are forcefully converted to Islam while the legal system turns a blind eye to their families' pleas.

Faced with such pervasive lawlessness and terror, migration becomes the only viable means of escaping tyranny. As Mr. Lakhani powerfully stated during his testimony, "If the border were hypothetically opened for a day, the entire Hindu population of Pakistan would move to India." These individuals arrive seeking nothing more than the basic human right to practice their faith in peace.

For young Pakistani refugees in India, the dream of an education is often crushed under the weight of missing documentation. Without official citizenship or recognized caste certificates, schools and universities frequently deny admission to refugee children, leaving an entire generation stranded in academic limbo.

Ms. Devi Rani, a 23-year-old woman living in Jodhpur, had been pursuing a B.Tech degree at the Manav Institute in Hisar. Despite having lived in India since she was an infant, she was ultimately forced to abandon her studies because she lacked citizenship documentation. Her younger siblings have similarly been barred from attending school. She spoke passionately at the hearing about her simple desire to build a future for herself—a future that is currently being denied by bureaucratic red tape.

Similarly, Mr. Kishor was barred from gaining college admission for the exact same reasons. Even when alternative educational avenues are found, the lack of a caste certificate means these refugee students are subjected to exorbitant fees that their families, already struggling with poverty and displacement, cannot possibly afford. Their testimonies serve as a stark reminder that true liberation must include the right to learn.

Bhairon Singh, Uttam Singh and Swaroop Singh are brothers who migrated to India following the 1971 war between Pakistan and India. Although their joint family consisted of a large number of individual families, it was allotted only a single ration card. This was in the name of Bhau Singh, the brothers’ father.

The land allotment made on the basis of the ration card was therefore made only in the name of Bhau Singh. Consequently, the three brothers are left with very little land after the equal division of the land. The single ration card system followed for the purposes of rehabilitation is a serious problem as this has left many families without enough land to sustain them.

Bijal was allotted land under the 1978 rehabilitation package. After his death, his wife Sita, was not able to claim it as another party occupied it illegally.

A letter of complaint was presented but so far no action has been taken. Illegal occupation of the allotted land is a major problem which gets aggravated in the circumstances where the aggrieved is poor. The costs of litigation have to be borne by the hapless, poverty-stricken migrants, which, in many cases, they cannot afford.

Sada Ram came to India in 1971. He settled in Pugal, along with his three brothers. The entire family was allotted 25 bighas of land in the name of Sada Ram, of which 10 bighas are un-irrigated.

Over the years the family has expanded and now consists of 27 people. The amount of land is too small to support such a large family. Hence, Sada Ram’s two brothers are landless and do not even have a plot of land for their homes.

Jujhardan Charan came to India and settled in Dhansar. He was allotted 75 bighas of land in 1978 in Shiv in Barmer. However, he did not actually receive the land.

In 1980 the Government informed him that the land he had been allotted was now part of the Desert National Park, which could not be cultivated. Because of this he now is forced to work as an agricultural labourer. There are numerous other cases like this.

Kesaram started a cloth business in Bhawalpur, Sindh. In 2000, along with his brother, he expanded his business and opened two showrooms of readymade garments.

An officer of the local electricity board strung together unsheathed electric cables over 7 shops, of which 2 belonged to Kesaram. 6 months later at 11 PM a fire broke out in which Kesaram's shops were burnt down. He lost Rs. 70,000/- cash and Rs. 10 lakh worth of goods. This news hospitalized him. No action was taken by authorities.

Kesaram lost his mental balance. The family then decided to come to India. They applied for visa in 2006 but were granted it in 2009. They reached Jodhpur on March 21st, 2009. His problem now is that he has been fined for late application for his annual visa extension. This lapse occurred due to financial instability and mental ill health. He wants to be pardoned for this lapse because he cannot afford to pay it.