On the evening of July 19, 40-year-old Sahida Fakir stepped out of her home in Sanpada, Navi Mumbai, to buy food for dinner. Her 10-year-old son remained at home. It was an ordinary domestic errand in the life of a woman who had lived in Mumbai for nearly two decades. She never returned.
According to her husband, Jumman Fakir, the family soon received a call from the Mumbai Police’s Chembur Crime Branch. Sahida had been detained on suspicion of being an “illegal immigrant”. Within days, the family was told that she had been sent to Bangladesh. Her husband says he had repeatedly approached the authorities with documents establishing her identity and roots in West Bengal, but they were allegedly disregarded. Sahida eventually called her family from Satkhira, Bangladesh.
The story, first reported in detail by Scroll on August 11, is disturbing not merely because of what allegedly happened to one woman, but because of the larger question it raises: what happens when the State begins treating Bengali identity as evidence of foreignness?
The Indian Express separately reported that Sahida was detained on July 18 and that sources said she was taken to Assam before being pushed across the border along with others. The report also provided that her family was preparing to approach the Calcutta High Court and that a migrant workers’ forum had written to the Ministry of External Affairs seeking intervention.
The facts, as reported, demand something more than administrative clarification. They demand scrutiny of the entire architecture through which a person can apparently move from being a resident of India to being labelled an “infiltrator”, detained and ultimately expelled from the country without a meaningful opportunity to contest that determination.
A woman disappears, and the State’s explanation is suspicion
Sahida’s case is particularly troubling because her family says it did not merely possess one disputed identity document. They produced a birth certificate recording her birth in Swarupdaha village in West Bengal in 1988. They produced a school certificate, a voter identity card issued in 2008, documents relating to land in Gobindapur, and records concerning her family. Her parents’ names, according to Scroll, also appeared in the 2002 electoral rolls.
None of these documents, individually, should be treated as an automatic and conclusive certificate of citizenship. That distinction matters. A voter ID, Aadhaar or land document cannot, by itself, settle every question concerning citizenship. But that is precisely why the State’s obligation becomes more important, not less. If citizenship is disputed, the answer cannot simply be deportation. The dispute must first be investigated.
Sahida’s husband told Scroll that police asked for the birth certificates of her parents even after he had produced her own birth certificate and other documents. He said the family could not provide such certificates because they were from a generation in which birth registration was not common. That raises an obvious question: how much documentation must a poor citizen produce before the State believes that she belongs to the country in which she was born and has lived?
For months, instances of forced deportations and illegal pushbacks have surfaced from Assam, West Bengal, Gujarat, Rajasthan, Maharashtra and Delhi of individuals “suspected” of being Bangladeshi nationals. In many of these cases, the family of those deported have approached the courts alleging that the removals were carried out without any disclosed nationality verification, without travel documents, and without Bangladesh formally acknowledging or accepting the individuals concerned.
Detailed reports may be read here, here, here, here and here.
The most dangerous word in this story is “suspected”
There is a profound legal difference between suspecting that someone may be a foreign national and establishing that they are one. The first is an investigative starting point. The second is a legal conclusion. Sahida’s case, as reported, appears to collapse the two. Scroll reported that the family was not given documents relating to her arrest or detention and that the Mumbai and Navi Mumbai police did not respond to questions seeking clarification about the grounds for her detention.
When the State takes away a person’s liberty, the burden of public accountability does not disappear merely because the allegation involves “illegal immigration”. If anything, the stakes are higher because the consequence may ultimately be removal from the country itself. The Constitution does not create a zone of executive immunity around immigration enforcement.
Article 21 protects life and personal liberty. Article 14 demands non-arbitrariness and equality before the law. Article 22 contains safeguards concerning arrest and detention. These constitutional protections cannot become conditional upon whether the person is socially respectable, economically secure or perceived to “look Indian”. And the constitutional question becomes particularly serious when a person is allegedly identified not through a properly adjudicated finding but through a combination of suspicion and social profiling.
The border cannot become a substitute for a hearing
Sahida’s husband told Scroll that she was detained because she was Bengali. In Maharashtra, the crackdown has become increasingly expansive. Hindustan Times reported in March that the state government told the Legislative Council that more than 2,000 alleged illegal Bangladeshi nationals had been deported in 2025, compared with 202 in 2024, and that the state planned intensive “combing operations” in slums, construction sites and other areas. There is nothing inherently unlawful about a State identifying and removing foreign nationals who are illegally present. Immigration control is a legitimate governmental function. The danger begins when the hunt for foreigners becomes a hunt for people who appear foreign.
The physical act of pushing someone across an international border has consequences that are fundamentally different from ordinary detention. Once a person is in Bangladesh, an Indian court’s ability to protect her becomes substantially more complicated. Access to lawyers, family members and documents becomes difficult. The very act of deportation can therefore create a second legal problem out of the first. This is exactly what makes Sahida’s account so alarming. According to the Indian Express, she said she was taken to the Assam border and pushed into Bangladesh at around 1 a.m. She reportedly walked for hours through muddy fields before local residents helped her and a family in Satkhira provided her shelter.
A precedent already exists for bringing people back
The danger of mistaken deportation is no longer theoretical. In 2025, several Bengali-speaking residents working outside West Bengal were detained and sent across the Bangladesh border amid claims that they were Bangladeshi nationals. One of the most consequential cases involved Sunali Khatun, her husband and their son. The Calcutta High Court’s September 2025 judgment in Bhodu Sekh v. Union of India is particularly relevant. The court examined the deportation of Sunali Khatun, Danish and their son Sabir. The authorities had argued that the family had failed to establish Indian citizenship. But the court also considered the procedure prescribed by the Union’s May 2, 2025 memorandum for persons suspected of being Bangladeshi or Myanmar nationals who claimed Indian citizenship in another State.
The memorandum contemplated verification by the State or district from which the person claimed to originate. Where a person claimed Indian citizenship and residence in another State, the concerned authorities were required to seek verification from that State and district administration. The judgment records that such verification was to be undertaken within a specified period, during which the person could be kept in a holding centre.
The Calcutta High Court ultimately held that the procedure had not been followed and described the authorities’ action as being undertaken in “hot haste”. It set aside the detention and deportation orders concerning Sunali, Danish and Sabir and directed the authorities to take steps to bring them back to India. In May 2026, the Union told the Supreme Court that it would bring back people deported to Bangladesh and verify their citizenship claims. All those six deported in this case are now back in India.
Detailed reports may be read here and here.
Notably, a separate affidavit was filed by the Union Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA) on July 31, 2026 in Rajubala Das v. Union of India pursuant to the Supreme Court’s order dated March 21, 2025. The affidavit sought to explain the legal and administrative framework governing deportation where the nationality of a declared foreigner remains unknown or unverified. In doing so, the Union makes one of its clearest judicial admissions to date: deportation cannot even be initiated unless the individual’s nationality has first been verified by the receiving State, appropriate travel documents have been obtained, and the receiving country has agreed to accept the individual.
The affidavit fundamentally distinguishes between being declared a foreigner and being legally deportable. While a declaration by a Foreigners Tribunal may settle a person’s legal status within India, it does not, the Union now accepts, authorise the State to physically remove that individual from Indian territory. Deportation remains contingent upon a separate process involving diplomatic engagement, nationality verification, issuance of travel documents and, most importantly, the consent of another sovereign State. In other words, the executive cannot unilaterally deport a person merely because Indian authorities believe them to be a foreign national.
Detailed report may be read here.
The SIR connection makes the situation even more sensitive
Sahida’s case also comes amid intense scrutiny of electoral citizenship verification in West Bengal. According to Scroll, Sahida’s parents appeared on the 2002 electoral roll, while Sahida herself was marked “under adjudication” in the recent Special Intensive Revision process, with an appeal pending before the relevant tribunal. The fact that an electoral-roll dispute exists cannot itself establish whether Sahida is or is not an Indian citizen. But it does reinforce why administrative processes must remain separate and carefully bounded. Being excluded from an electoral roll is not the same thing as being declared a foreign national.
Indeed, in August 2025, the Supreme Court sought clarity from the Centre on the standard operating procedure governing deportation drives and specifically raised concerns about allegations that Bengali-speaking minorities were being singled out. The Court observed that while persons attempting to illegally cross into India could be dealt with at the border, once a person was already inside the country, the law prescribed a procedure.
Over the past few months, multiple petitions before the Supreme Court and High Courts have alleged that persons suspected of being Bangladeshi nationals were taken across the international border without any publicly disclosed deportation process. In several cases, families have alleged that individuals were picked up without prior notice, denied access to lawyers or relatives, and removed without any disclosed deportation order or travel documents.
Detailed report may be read here, here, here and here.
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