In Kashmir, Young Women Face the Dual Fight Against Conflict and Addiction

Content warning: This story describes sexual abuse and drug use.

SRINAGAR, Kashmir – The house stood in ruins with crumbling walls, cobweb ridden roofs and a silence thick with decay. Nighat* had been brought here before, but this time was different. The man waiting inside was older than others she had met in the home, his presence overpowering, his breath stale, his body heavy with a stench. She had come there to exchange sex for drugs. 

When it was over, Nighat curled into herself and wept. She had finally reached a breaking point after months of courting a cyclical addiction to heroin. 

For the first time, she felt the pull to reclaim herself and set forward on the path to recovery — but not without initially admitting her addiction to concerned family members, and facing down her supplier once and for all.

Health experts say Nighat’s case is a cautionary tale of climbing drug addiction in the Kashmir region, most recently among young women. According to a 2022 survey conducted by the National Institute on Drug Abuse in 10 districts of Kashmir, about 2.23 percent of the population, or about 52,000 people, have a dependence on opioids. Among these, about 32,000 people administer the drugs through injections, placing them at added risk of health complications and exploitation. 

The scale of substance abuse in Kashmir has grown with each passing year. Between 2018 and 2022, narcotic-related cases in the region surged dramatically. According to a recent study published in the Journal of Drug Issues, substances like cannabis, heroin, codeine and poppy-based products dominated the landscape. Further, a Ministry of Social Justice and Empowerment study found that Kashmir is home to about 1.35 million drug users, or nearly 8 percent of the region’s total population — a figure significantly higher than the national average. 

In the same study, researchers highlighted how Kashmir’s unique geography adds another layer to the crisis. Its proximity to Pakistan and Afghanistan, countries at the heart of major global narcotics routes, has long facilitated cross-border smuggling. This strategic positioning, combined with decades of political instability, porous borders and limited surveillance, makes the region a destination for drug consumption and a critical corridor for trafficking into the rest of India. 

Nighat’s Descent into Addiction

Before Nighat’s struggle with heroin, in 2019, she was a bright 20-year-old student with dreams of becoming a teacher or government employee. Yet her life had been marked by loss: Her mother had died young, and her father’s recent remarriage brought a new family — and growing distance. Still, she persevered, falling in love with a neighborhood boy, Tameem*. When that  relationship ended, Nighat took heartbreak poorly, and left her feeling withdrawn and aimless. 

In a moment of despair, she confided in a classmate, Riffat*, who handed her a pill with the promise: “It will help you relax.” The pill turned out to be heroin.

That night, Nighat thought she felt better — detached, numb, and, for the first time in days, calm. “When I took it, I felt better for the night, almost like I lost consciousness. I truly believed it was helping me relax,” she told More to Her Story.

For five days, Riffat supplied her drugs for free. But on the sixth day the exchange changed. Riffat told Nighat she had to pay for the heroin.

Nighat came from a poor family and struggled to find the money. “I managed to arrange 300 rupees and bought more drugs from my friend. This was all happening during regular school hours,” she said.

She returned for more. “I went to Riffat again and pleaded before her to give me the drugs, but she refused,” Nighat said. 

“I can’t give it to you without money,” she told Nighat.

Nighat’s friendship with Riffat, initially built over shared dreams of their future after attending school, turned into a transactional relationship over drugs. Capitalizing on Nighat’s need for heroin, Riffat introduced Nighat to a man who would eventually exploit her for sex in return for heroin.

“At first, I refused. But [the man] insisted, saying, ‘Don’t you want the drugs? I’ll give it to you for free,” Nighat said. 

“It was my first sexual experience, and it was forced. Afterward, he gave me drugs.”

For months, Nighat said heroin numbed her senses, blinding her to the exploitation she was enduring. Every time she used the drug, she said, it carved a deeper pit inside her. She didn’t have the words for the pain. 

One day, Riffat told Nighat to come to school early and wait outside the gate: She had booked a flight for Nighat to the city of Jammu with other women likely hooked on heroin. In Jammu, she was instructed by Riffat to have sex with strangers in exchange for drugs. Over several months, Nighat would hide the clandestine trips from her family, flying out in the early morning hours, claiming she was attending school, and flying back home the same day.

“They took all of us to a hotel room, kept us there till around 3 p.m., and all day, men would come, of all age groups from different religious backgrounds. We were subjected to exploitation for drugs and injections,” she said. 

Over the course of these months, Nighat was recruited by Riffat to scout out other young girls to groom and exploit via drug addiction. On at least one occasion, she was caught and outed by family members for her addiction and sent to a rehabilitation to recover, only to return to drug use again. 

But one day, Nighat confided to an aunt about her return to drug use. Instead of taking her to a center where Nighat had been before, her aunt brought her to a different, specialised facility in Srinagar, where specialists identified Nighat as a high-risk addict in urgent need of intervention. 

There, Nighat was “given proper counseling, medication and support which gradually helped me return to my life,” she said.

She began to heal, slowly. Her aunt kept a close eye on her, offering her the support she needed once she returned home from the facility. 

Then, one day, the past came calling again. Riffat phoned, asking whether Nighat had found new recruits — young women who would be candidates to get hooked on heroin just like Nighat. “Have you done anything? Is anyone new involved?” Riffat demanded.

This time, Nighat didn’t comply. She shared the number with her rehabilitation counselor, who took immediate action by warning Riffat of legal consequences if she continued to contact Nighat. Riffat backed away. That call became a closing chapter. 

“After that confrontation, she left me alone,” Nighat said. “I haven’t heard from her since.”

Institutional Support

Nighat’s experience is part of a widening drug surge in Kashmir, where addiction has escalated into a serious public health and social crisis. The region’s strategic location along major trafficking routes from Pakistan and Afghanistan has made it a hotspot for narcotics smuggling and consumption. Thousands, especially young women like Nighat, find themselves trapped in the grip of heroin addiction, often facing exploitation and social stigma.

In response to this growing crisis, local and national efforts have begun to take shape. One notable example is The Grooming Kashmir De-Addiction Centre, established in 2019 as Srinagar’s first private rehabilitation facility dedicated exclusively to women. Founded by psychologist Laila Qureshi, the center provides a safe, supportive environment where women can begin to reclaim their lives from addiction.

According to the government’s budgetary allocation under the 2024 National Action Plan for Drug Demand Reduction, officials are supporting specialized recovery clinics for women to provide gender-sensitive care. These centers are staffed by women and offer other services, including gynecological support, hygiene provisions and inpatient and outpatient treatment in a safe and confidential environment.

The central government has spent ₹5.45 crore, or about $635,000, between 2021 and 2024 on 32 rehabilitation centers in the region, as part of the National Action Plan for Drug Demand Reduction. They include one main rehabilitation center, several drop-in and outreach centers, peer-led community programs, district-level facilities, and treatment units in government hospitals.

It has been three years since Nighat overcame her addiction. She graduated from school—a milestone she once thought out of reach. Though the weight of her past still lingers, she carries it with a new strength.

Now, Nighat dreams of becoming a psychologist, driven by a hope to help other women trapped in the cycle of addiction. She wants to offer the care she herself once needed.

“If I can sit with someone who feels lost and say, ‘I’ve been there, and you can come back,’ then maybe all of this means something,” she said.