Habib-un-Nisaa was horrified at the violence she witnessed, but was also inspired by the protestors. “I am an ordinary mother, and my kids are my world,” mother of the late Sana Shaik told PARI. “I have lived the life of a housewife but the people in power have disrupted it. My daughter died because of their decisions. You are supposed to protect us, not ruin our lives.”
After Sana aced her exams on May 3, 2026, the union government announced that the NEET paper had been leaked, and students would have to appear for a re-examination. She was devastated – her intense preparation had already taken a toll. NEET is a highly competitive exam, where more than two million aspirants battle for fewer than 130,000 spots in medical colleges. After years of preparation, Sana thought the pressure was finally behind her. But now she would have to go through the grind all over again.
Sadly, the weight of writing the exams again seemed greater than writing a suicide note. “I’m sorry,” she scribbled one day before the re-exam on June 21 before she hung herself in her room.
She is among over 20 students that died by suicide for the same reason.
“She didn’t answer my call that morning,” Jafar says. “Maybe if I had managed to speak to her, she would still be with us,” the distraught father says speaking at the site.
“I came all the way to express what I am going through,” the grieving mother, Habib-un-Nisaa says. She is still struggling to accept that her eldest daughter is no more. “We might die in five years, or we could be alive till we get old, but we will carry this pain for the rest of our lives,” she says. “At night, I can’t sleep properly, my hands and legs start shaking in the middle of the night.”
Yet, the parents left their two daughters – aged 15 and 11 – behind and travelled to Delhi. “I keep thinking of them and feel anxious. I came here to tell the people in power that they are wrong. Has power blinded you? The students are protesting for mothers like me. They are sensitive. It was painful to see the police beat up those who shared my grief. If you can’t understand our pain, what is the point of your power? Bachchon pe itna zulm mat kariye [Please don’t punish our children so much].”