The legal gaps in Jharkhand’s witch-hunting cases

Ranchi, Jharkhand: It was dusk on September 17, 2025, when Lukhi Devi, 69, was killed in Guruburu village in Jharkhand’s Khunti district, hacked to death with an axe by a neighbour who believed she was a witch.

Choron Munda, 30, had lived across the lane from her for years. His family and hers had a history of disputes, frequent arguments, verbal abuse and long-simmering hostility.

Earlier that year, his two-month-old daughter died. The family blamed Lukhi Devi.

“When someone dies suddenly in villages, people often believe that someone has done witchcraft,” said Saiko police station in-charge Prabhat Ranjan Pandey. “And when two families are in conflict, they say all kinds of things to each other…that someone will fall ill, that someone will die. When something like that actually happens, people start believing it was caused by a witch.”

On the evening of the murder, Munda offered Lukhi Devi a ride back to the village on his scooter, along with her son-in-law, Maniram Munda. Near the village, he led them to a field, gave them alcohol, and then attacked her with an axe. Maniram was not harmed.

According to Pandey, suspicion had deepened after the child’s death, alongside the ongoing disputes between the families.

Police recovered the axe and a hoe used in the attack, along with blood-stained clothing. Munda was arrested the next day after confessing. A chargesheet has been filed and the trial is ongoing in a Khunti court. His bail application was rejected.

The case has been registered under the Jharkhand Prevention of Witch Practices Act, in addition to murder. Under these provisions, the accused could face life imprisonment.

When the law works and where it doesn’t

In Jharkhand, this is what a witch-hunting case looks like when the legal system works. Lukhi Devi’s case, however, is an exception, and even here, where the police acted swiftly, what followed remained uncertain. 

Her daughter, Birsi Devi, who filed the first information report, no longer lives in the village. Their house remains locked. A neighbour confirmed the killing but declined to say more. “No one lives there anymore,” she said.

According to Pandey, such cases can also lead to attempts at monetary settlement, where the accused’s family offers compensation to the victim’s relatives to resolve the matter outside prolonged conflict. It is unclear whether Birsi Devi received any such settlement.

Ranchi-based advocate Sunil Kumar Mahto said there is no legal provision for relief on the basis of private compensation in such cases. “A conviction typically results in imprisonment along with a fine imposed by the court. If the fine is not paid, an additional term of imprisonment may follow,” he said. 

Informal settlements can weaken the deterrent effect of the law by creating a parallel, extra-legal resolution mechanism.

There are also formal compensation mechanisms, but these depend on the law being set in motion. Ajay Kumar of the Ranchi-based organisation ASHA said that under the Jharkhand State Legal Services Authority, dependents of a victim can receive Rs 1 lakh if an FIR has been filed. In cases of serious assault, compensation of Rs 50,000 is provided.

But without an FIR, there is no compensation. Applications are routed through the District Legal Services Authority to JHALSA. More often than not, cases do not reach this stage.

Advocate Kumar Anshuman said the problem often begins much earlier, in forms that the law struggles to capture. “Harassment of women often starts within the marital home, with verbal abuse. Over time, this expands to the village level,” he said. “In rural and backward areas, this kind of social labelling…calling someone a witch…becomes normalised, even though it falls outside formal legal categorisation until it escalates into violence.”

Simmering accusations

Some cases unfold over years and are marked by accusations, coercion, financial demands and the absence of any legal intervention.

Take the case of Savitri Munda (36) of Kochbong village in Ranchi district, who married into a family already under suspicion.

When she arrived in 2008, villagers accused her father-in-law, Dhirju Munda, of “keeping a ghost”, a spirit that killed others if it was not appeased.

“Once, the villagers made an effigy of the ghost,” she said. “They forced my father-in-law to cremate it at Dasham Falls and had his head shaved. Then they warned him not to think about it again.”

After her father-in-law died in 2011, the accusations shifted to her. Deaths in the village, whether due to illness or accidents, were attributed to her.

In 2017, villagers asked her to arrange a ritual to rid the village of the supposed spirit. On the instructions of a woman exorcist, she spent around Rs 1.2 lakh on items including gold, silver, brass, goats, chickens and pigeons.

The ritual was postponed multiple times as more deaths occurred in the village. It was never performed.

Savitri said the postponements gave her time to resist the pressure and reconsider complying with the demands.

She believes the accusations were also linked to land. Her family owns around 20 acres, which she said others in the village had their eyes on.

In 2018, she and her husband approached Kharsidag police station to file a complaint, alleging harassment on accusations of witchcraft and coercion to organise the ritual.

The officer on duty refused to file an FIR.

“This is an internal village matter,” Savitri recalled being told. “If you want to live here, you have to adjust. Sit together and resolve it.”

With no FIR registered, the harassment continued.

Relief came only after Geeta Birua, the wife of the village head, connected her with ASHA, a Ranchi-based organisation working against witch-hunting.

Poonam Toppo of ASHA counselled Savitri and helped build her confidence. Ajay Kumar also intervened by speaking to the woman exorcist who had demanded the ritual, telling her that such actions amounted to harassment and could not continue.

Members of the organisation advised Savitri and her husband to document any further harassment on video. This, Savitri said, created a sense of fear among those targeting her, including the exorcist, and the harassment gradually reduced.

Law and its limits

Jharkhand has had laws against witch-hunting since 2001, when it adopted the Bihar Prevention of Witch Practices Act.

The law provides for up to three months’ imprisonment and a fine of Rs 1,000 for branding someone a witch. All offences are cognisable and non-bailable.

Legal aid systems also exist. According to officials at the Jharkhand State Legal Services Authority, victims can approach District Legal Services Authorities for help. Para-legal volunteers are deployed across blocks, hospitals, police stations and panchayats to assist with filing complaints.

If police refuse to register an FIR, victims can have their statements recorded before a magistrate.

On paper, the system anticipates the gaps. In practice, accessing it is far more difficult.

According to National Crime Records Bureau data, 74 cases of witch-hunting-related killings were recorded across India in 2023, of which 22 were in Jharkhand the highest among states.

Yet these figures sit alongside widespread underreporting.

In Khunti district, police data shows six such murder cases each in 2019 and 2020, eight in 2021, followed by a sharp decline: three in 2022, one in 2023, none in 2024, and one in 2025, the killing of Lukhi Devi.

Officials say this reflects both a drop in registered cases and some increase in awareness.

Activists disagree.

“In witch-hunting cases, complaints are usually not registered unless there is a major incident—murder or severe assault,” said Ajay Kumar, founder of ASHA. “Without early legal action, the perpetrators are emboldened. The victim continues to live in fear.”

Data also shows how often police action requires escalation. In Jharkhand, hundreds of cases involving violence against women are registered each year on the orders of a magistrate, indicating that complaints are not always accepted at the first instance.

Advocate Mahto said weak policing compounds the problem. “Superstition and illiteracy remain widespread, and the policing system is often ineffective,” he said. “Police tend to respond more readily to those with money or influence, which means many genuine cases of witch-hunting never come to light.”

Police officers acknowledge that they often try to resolve such cases informally. One officer said attempts at compromise are common because the victim and the accused must continue living in the same village.

Panchayats, too, play a limited role. Neeral Horo, village head of Kochbong, said his gram sabha holds monthly meetings where residents are told that witchcraft is a superstition.

According to Kumar, local governance structures are often constrained by electoral considerations. “The groups making these accusations tend to be organised,” he said. “No one wants to antagonise them.”

(Rahul Singh is a freelance journalist and member of 101Reporters.) 

This story has been produced by 101Reporters, an independent news agency with a network of 3,000+ freelance journalists across the country, in collaboration with Crime & Punishment, Vidhi Centre for Legal Policy.