Right to dignity of prisoners’ families. The forgotten stakeholders in the justice system.

Abstract:

Our Indian constitution talks about rights of life, equality, speedy trials, and more. But to this day, there is no chapter in our law books that talk about post-conviction family trauma. Our Indian policy protects the victims and talks about reformation, but who protects the innocent family of the accused, who are mocked by society as they themselves are accused? The court delivers the judgment, but the society executes it every single day. The accused family is being deprived by society; the wife had to work as a street vendor for survival. Their children were mocked in school as images of a convicted murderer. Our biggest constitution in the world states about the right to life with dignity in most of the landmark cases, but when it comes to convicted families, it silently buries their dignity, right? This research paper will examine how the family of a prisoner also goes through pain and suffering even though they are not convicted of any offense.

Keywords: Prisoners’ family, Right to Dignity, Criminal justice system, Post-Conviction Stigma

Introduction:

Sunita Devi, the wife of an under-trial prisoner, now sells vegetables, as someone had to commence earning in the family for survival. Her son always receives mockery behaviour in the school. Their landlord told them to leave the house next month and not renew the lease because they are the accused family. Their neighbours stopped having conversations with them as if guilt is contagious. Her mother-in-law watches her son in the news, hoping her son’s name stops scrolling again and again. When the convicted family visits prison, they are not just carrying food but shattered hopes from the justice. Her children are in the habit of not asking the father anymore. The convicted family never committed the crime, but society declared them accused.

Although the example was fictional, the circumstances and all mockery expressed by society are real. Our constitution gives dignity to all people, but society snatches and takes away from the innocent. No one deserves to be declared guilty, but this should be told to neighbors and schools. These are just the innocent family of an accused; the court and society can at least help them search for any room and job for livelihood. Our judicial system should not collapse an entire conviction household, but it eventually does. Not just cross-examination and evidence should be part of justice, but empathy should also be included. Nobody talks about how a single jail sentence often turns it into a life sentence for the family. The punishment of a convict is measured in years, but what about the trauma of the family that stays forever and does not expire? In reality, in every criminal proceeding, there is an unseen courtroom at home, and unfortunately, that one never adjourns. Our justice can be blind, but society is not; they stare, gossip, and give scars and trauma for a lifetime.

The legal shadows: What rights exist?

Legal dignity in the constitution is just more than just a term; it should include not only the accused but also the convicted accused families who are being forgotten and side-lined. Our so-called honourable court states that the right to livelihood is also a part of the right to life, so why is the accused family left starving in this society? If the right to live with dignity had been given to the accused, then why not the child who is innocent? The court sees the accused as a human despite the committed offense, so why not give this human a tag and dignity to the family?

Each state introduced various schemes in regular terms, but no one had introduced any scheme to pay the school fees of the prisoner’s daughter, even though the convicted was the sole earner. Various schemes were introduced for widows, orphans, and acid attack victims, but none for prisoner’s families. Even deceased convicted widows do not receive any aid or pension from the government, not even from the Ministry of Women and Child Development. A little welfare scheme could save a family from being broke and collapsing, but sadly, the government remains silent.

Living on the Edge: The Everyday Struggles of Prisoner’s Families

From the very first day of being accused in jail, the families are left behind with a lifetime of humiliation. Stigma not only knocks at this period but instead barges in the house and then settles as unpaid rent. In Bihar, a mother had to start washing utensils in 3 houses because her son was arrested for theft and is still called by the tag of “chor ki maa.” Even in firms and companies, no one hires an employee whose family name was printed once in a criminal story.

A daughter or son of a convicted person should not be treated as a criminal. In Delhi, a girl was rejected for admission to school because her father was in Tihar. In accordance with which, the principal stated that she will not be good luck to their school. In school days, everyone was taught about the concept of equality, but that had been left behind at the school gate. The reality is that her right to education has been taken by just having the surname of her father. The same situation goes for a wife whose husband is being sentenced to imprisonment. She lives the life with the tag of widow. Relatives and friends often avoid sending invitations to their houses with the superstition of bad omen. Governments do not recognize the wife under the category of widow, and society does not recognize them as having the status of wife. She is struck between grieving for the funeral and being without a tag status.

The invisible gap: what Indian law missed?

When the state takes away the freedom of an accused and puts them in prison, then it should be liable for the responsibility of the convicted innocent family, especially if the accused was the only earner. Rights of dignity that are being provided should not be selective for some specific members; they should also include the ones silently suffering on the other side of the bar. If our constitution gave the rights of right to life with dignity to the prisoners, then it should also give this to their families outside. Our constitution should not be greeted with applause if they only care about the convicted in jail, not about the family silently suffering the post-trauma.

The centre had not yet launched any schemes for education, rations, or legal aid for the accused family. Even the family under trial gets no relief, as if they themselves are criminals also. Their family members are not considered orphans, widows, or elderly people, and so they are not entitled to any scheme benefits. Prisoners are part of the system, but our judicial system is not only about giving punishment but also about protection. There is no such type of provision of family counselling in jail manuals, not even for emotional support. Authorities working in jail often see family members as intruders and similarly behave in this manner and not like people still hoping for a family reunion.

A world beyond: what other countries do differently

In Brazil, prisoners are allowed to hold their families inside the prison. There are some special units that give the prisoner’s family permission to stay overnight with the prisoner, not as a guest, but as a human being. Their laws allow prisoners to meet their child in a house manner, not behind the bar, thus eliminating trauma for the child. Brazilian laws see the prisoner and the family as one and allow their dignity to exist, a lesson that Indian law had not yet learned.

In the UK, separate family counselling and especially school counselling are being organized to listen to the other side of the accused family. Kids in school are not called criminals; instead, they are looked at as children needing care. School teachers are sensitive, not scandalized; they help the child in need, not humiliate them in school. Emotional damage is seen as a real harm in the UK, unlike in India. In a nation like India, our system must realize that children are the future, and losing them will be dangerous to the nation.

The Women Who Wait: Forgotten Wives, Invisible Lives

When a man goes to prison, his wife is rarely mentioned in court. Her pain doesn’t appear in any judgment, and her name is nowhere in the jail register. But she carries the sentence too—quietly, in full.

These women, especially those from rural or lower-income backgrounds, face the worst kind of punishment: social exile without legal guilt. They’re labeled “kaidi ki biwi” (prisoner’s wife), and overnight, everything changes—neighbors stop talking, landlords ask them to leave, and children are mocked in school. For many, there’s no way to earn, no support system, and no place to grieve or even explain. Worse still, their loyalty is questioned. If she waits, people whisper. If she moves on, they shame her. She is stuck between society’s judgment and survival. There are no schemes, no pensions, no emotional support, not even legal clarity on conjugal visits or marital rights during long-term imprisonment.

And yet, these women wait. Some sell vegetables, some take cleaning jobs, and others just pray. They visit prisons, traveling hours for five minutes across a cold barrier. They write letters, bring medicines, raise children, and carry hope in silence. In a justice system obsessed with verdicts, their stories don’t fit the file. But if justice means fairness, then we must ask—who fights for these women, and when will the system finally see them?

After the Acquittal: When Freedom Comes Too Late

When someone walks free after years in prison, having finally been declared innocent, the legal system calls it justice. But what does freedom really mean when everything you loved has already been lost?

For the family of an acquitted person, the damage is irreversible. Years spent fighting a false case drain them emotionally, socially, and financially. Children grow up without a parent. Wives raise families alone. Savings vanish into legal fees. Sometimes, the acquitted return to a home that no longer exists—a parent has died, a job is lost, or the child doesn’t recognize their voice. Acquittals don’t erase the years gone. The label of “criminal” doesn’t fade so easily. Society remembers the arrest, never the judgment. Even neighbours rarely believe the innocence. Employers don’t rehire. Families are stuck in limbo—no compensation, no apology, and no healing. The courts move on. But the families remain frozen in time, trying to rebuild a life with cracks no one else can see. The trauma is silent, unrecognized, and unsupported by any government scheme or legal redress.

If justice only corrects the file but not the fallout, can we really call it justice? We need a system that acknowledges the suffering of those proven innocent—not just legally, but socially and emotionally. Because freedom delivered late is not freedom at all. It’s a scar.

What can India do to fix this?

In India, the system should organize a meeting of the prisoner with his children in an open area, not through rusted bars. Make the prison system safer for women so that they should not be afraid to visit their husbands. Our nation should reform the system in such a way that when a child visits prison to meet their father, fear should be replaced with love when meeting their father. When a family’s only earning member is in prison, the other family member has to earn for the sake of survival. Legal aid that is provided to the prison should not stop at the prison gate; it should be extended up to the family’s house. The family should not fall into debt because of someone else’s crime. When the case stretched and delayed for many years, so did the poverty at the family’s house.

Before denying bail to a prisoner, the judges should see the only earning member and what would happen if the bail is rejected. A mother listening to the news of her convicted son, a wife who had to start earning, and a child who had to drop out of school after her father was convicted of a crime. The court should look beyond the accused and see that denying bail will also be an offense—the invisible one. Courtrooms should make the space for parents, mothers, and children to speak, because their voices are unheard by the society. Welfare of the family is not an act of sympathy; it is an integral part of a fair process.

Conclusion:

Our justice can punish the guilty and accused, but the only humane act by the system can protect the system that is left behind. If a system can build prisons, it can also build compassion—but only if it chooses to build. In every courtroom, there should be a setup to listen to the voices that are never heard, the ones that depend on hope from justice. A system that forgets about the outside family is on the verge of forgetting what justice actually means. Our judicial system can close a case by stating our judgment, but it takes humanity from the court to keep a family away from financial distress and apart from one member.

References:

1. Olga Telis v Bombay Municipal Corporation [1986] AIR 180 (SC).

2. ‘Delhi school rejects child because father is in jail’, The Indian Express (New Delhi, 17 July 2023) https://indianexpress.com.

3. Ministry of Women and Child Development, Annual Scheme Booklet 2023 (Government of India) https://wcd.nic.in/schemes-list.

4. Ministry of Home Affairs, Model Prison Manual 2016 (Government of India) https://www.mha.gov.in/sites/default/files/ModelPrisonManual2016.pdf

5. Agência Brasil, ‘MJ sets national standards for intimate and family visits in prisons’ (2 December 2021) https://agenciabrasil.ebc.com.br/en/geral/noticia/2021-12/mj-sets-standards-intimate-visits-countrys-penitentiaries accessed 9 July 2025.

6. Commonwealth Human Rights Initiative, Barred and Behind Bars: The Plight of Women with Incarcerated Family Members (CHRI 2020) https://www.humanrightsinitiative.org.

7. National Legal Services Authority, Report on Legal Aid to Families of Prisoners (NALSA 2022) https://nalsa.gov.in.

8. Anup Surendranath, ‘Criminal Law and the Stigma of Association’ (2019) 11 NUJS L Rev 122.

9. Barnardo’s UK, Locked Out: Children with a Parent in Prison (2018) https://www.barnardos.org.uk/resources/locked-out

10. People’s Union for Democratic Rights (PUDR), Acquitted But Not Free: The Continuing Injustice of Social Stigma (2020) https://pudr.org.

11. Justice AK Sikri, ‘Law and Compassion Must Coexist’, Keynote Lecture at NLU Delhi (2019) https://nludelhi.ac.in