
Located deep in Muzaffarpur, the village of Manika Gaji is a labyrinth of weathered brick structures covered in palm fronds and bordered by earth and puddles. Manisha carefully wades through the dirty slush to reach her “study room”: an enclosure of woven bamboo leaves, separated from the main quarters.
It was in this enclosure on the last day of 2024 that her father, Rajkishor Paswan, killed himself one cold, wet morning when he was unable to repay a debt he had received from a microfinance company. When Geeta Devi, Mrs. Manisha’s mother, saw her husband’s corpse hanging from the bamboo pole supporting the tin roof of the room, she untangled it and used the same rope to hang herself from a nearby litchi tree.
In pre-election Bihar, this is not an isolated case of harassment by microfinance companies (MFCs) that drove a couple to commit suicide. A report by microfinance self-regulatory body Sa-Dhan said Bihar had outstanding microfinance loans of ₹57,712 crore as of March 2025. The MFC’s forced repayment practices have forced families in remote villages to flee their homes or end their lives, but this deepening debt crisis is not an electoral issue for the ruling coalition or the opposition. The second and final phase of voting in Bihar will take place on November 11.
“Where’s the outrage?”
In the nearby village of Sakra, Wajid Biswanath Das calls MFC loans a “debt trap”. He asks: “Why are loans disbursed without any control?” His younger brother Shivnath and his wife Bhukti Devi committed suicide in March 2024 after defaulting on the monthly loan installments. Neighbors gave a grim account of the couple’s last days: “Sometimes (MFC agents) dragged their cattle, sometimes broke their dishes.” Their son has since “disappeared”.
“The government has to assess a person’s ability to repay or be willing to write off the loans,” says Mr. Das, the distraught brother. “Why is there no public or media outcry over this institutionalized harassment even as the election campaign is in full swing?” he asks.
The price of ambition
Ms. Manisha, who now lives with her elder brother and sister-in-law, wants to get a job with the police or the railways. She is studying BA at Shyamnandan Sahay College in Muzaffarpur and has also enrolled in a coaching institute in nearby Musahri sub-division.
It’s hard to imagine anyone devotedly pursuing a career in her squalid environment, but Ms Manisha says she won’t be “another downtrodden woman from her village, deprived of freedom and subjected to domestic violence”. She is no exception. Her friend Asha Kumari tutors schoolboys to raise money for her education while resisting peer pressure to get married.
However, financing their studies is still a problem. “It takes several thousands every month,” sighs Ms. Manisha, her eyes fixed on the bamboo pole where her father ended his life.
‘No help came’
Activists Vimlesh and Rani Prasad brokered Ms. Manisha’s meeting with Priyanka Gandhi when the Congress leader held a mahila samvad in Patna on September 26. “She was very kind. She asked her associate to look into my matter,” Ms. Manisha recalled. “But no help came.
It was in 2023 that Mrs. Geeta Devi first took a loan from MFC. Her younger son’s wedding was coming up and Ms. Manisha needed books and accessories. Her husband was a construction worker and worked for a measly ₹450 a day. It was difficult to find more than 10 or 12 days of work, limiting his monthly income to around ₹5,000.
The Bihar Caste Survey conducted in 2023 found that 94 thousand families in the state survive on ₹6,000 or less per month. India’s microfinance system began with networks of self-help groups focused on financial inclusion, later evolving into models for women inspired by the Grameen Bank, which have now turned into non-bank financial companies.
The debt cycle
Women who are unable to repay the loan received from one MFC tend to borrow from another, further entrapping themselves. Manisha’s sister-in-law Veena Devi states the extent of their poverty: “We earn ₹170 a day working in the fields.” Factory work is rarely available. A spice maker once set up a unit in Bela Industrial Area, “but transport was a problem. He was paying ₹5,000 a month, of which ₹1,500 was spent on booking an autorickshaw,” he says.
Without jobs, the endless cycle of debt can consume even generous giving. Villagers say that when Chief Minister Nitish Kumar disbursed ₹10,000 to members of Jeevika women’s self-help groups last month in a scheme launched just before the assembly elections, MFC agents pressured them to use it to repay their EMIs. “The police are doing nothing to stop the bratty behavior of the MFC staff,” claims Mr. Prasad.
Despite this situation, it is not uncommon to find voters complaining about failed crops and soaring food prices, stuck in debt traps, but still voicing their unwavering support for “Modi ji and Nitish ji”. The government’s actions and the deep penetration of Hindu nationalist sentiment into Bihar’s interior may have insulated Mr. Kumar’s 20-year rule from its epitaph.
(Those who are in distress or have suicidal thoughts are encouraged to seek help and advice from the helpline number here)
Anando Bhakto is a political journalist
Published – 9 Nov 2025 20:02 IST





