
THE allegations emerging from the Bengaluru daycare centre are every working parent’s nightmare. It is something truly appalling and blood-curdling. We are not talking about a child falling off a swing or a momentary lapse in supervision. We are talking about allegations of systematic cruelty against toddlers — children allegedly locked inside bathrooms, placed inside washing machines, sprayed with toilet jets because they cried. With no CCTVs in sight.
But this story is about more than one criminal investigation. It is about trust. It is about corporate responsibility. And above all, it is about women’s place in India’s workforce.
The uncomfortable truth is that if men were both primary caregivers and breadwinners, we would not be having this conversation. Daycare procedures would be bulletproof. Every process would be scrutinised, every caregiver vetted, every complaint treated as a crisis.
Instead, here we are.
We recently saw disturbing allegations involving abuse at a childcare facility associated with FirstCry in Aurangabad. Separately, there was a scandal at TCS. The facts are different. The legal questions are different. But the underlying issue remains the same: how responsible are companies for the environments they create?
Today’s HR departments do far more than process salaries and approve leave. They shape workplace culture. They oversee employee wellbeing, grievance mechanisms, vendor management and organisational trust. If a childcare facility operates inside a corporate campus, carrying the company’s name and serving its employees, parents naturally assume it reflects the company’s standards.
That assumption carries enormous responsibility.
For me, however, this is primarily a feminist issue. Because when childcare fails, who carries the emotional burden?
The mother.
Yes, most fathers love their children deeply. Many are active and devoted parents. But if we’re honest about Indian society, mothers still shoulder the invisible labour. They research daycare options. Pack meals. Schedule vaccinations. Call every hour to check in. Leave work when the child develops a fever. Remember birthdays, school projects and doctor’s appointments, while somehow also meeting office deadlines.
When something like this happens, it doesn’t merely traumatise parents. It sends a chilling message to thousands of women contemplating a return to work: perhaps it simply isn’t worth the risk.
India already loses women at every stage of professional life. Women graduate from universities in impressive numbers, yet workforce participation drops sharply during marriage and motherhood. At senior management level, women become a much smaller minority. By the time we reach CEO positions, the numbers shrink further.
Every childcare failure widens that gap. Because suddenly, families begin asking a familiar question: “Should someone stay home?" And somehow, despite decades of progress, “someone" almost always becomes the mother. This is why childcare is not merely a family issue. It is an economic issue.
Every woman who leaves the workforce because childcare no longer feels safe represents lost talent, lost innovation and lost leadership. Companies lose experienced professionals. Industries lose future executives. The country loses productivity.
Women’s empowerment cannot be measured only by how many girls attend school or how many women enter engineering colleges. It must also be measured by whether mothers can continue working without living in constant fear.
Many developed countries treat childcare not as an employee perk but as essential public infrastructure. Caregiver qualifications are regulated. Background verification is rigorous. Staff-to-child ratios are monitored. Safeguarding protocols are mandatory. Facilities undergo inspections. Reporting obligations are clearly defined.
Does abuse still occur? Tragically, yes. No country is immune. But stronger systems create stronger accountability. That is the standard Indian parents deserve.
This incident should also prompt multinational companies to ask themselves uncomfortable questions. Are childcare standards truly identical across every country where they operate? Do Indian employees receive the same level of oversight? The same frequency of audits? The same investment in caregiver training? The same governance?
I am not suggesting that standards are lower in India. That requires evidence. I am saying these are entirely legitimate questions for mothers, fathers, employees, regulators and boards to ask.
One mistake companies often make is viewing daycare as an employee benefit. It isn’t. It is infrastructure. No organisation would outsource building security and then stop conducting audits. No company would outsource food safety and assume its responsibility ended with signing a vendor contract. Childcare deserves exactly the same seriousness.
Whether a facility is operated directly or through a third-party vendor is almost irrelevant from an employee’s perspective. Parents did not choose that vendor. The company did. Corporate accountability cannot end at procurement.
Over the past decade, organisations have rightly invested enormous effort into strengthening workplace safety through procedures like POSH (Prevention of Sexual Harassment) compliance. Training is mandatory. Internal committees exist. Documentation is maintained. Audits happen because everyone understands that prevention matters.
So, where is the equivalent institutional seriousness for child safety? Where are the surprise inspections? Who reviews CCTV footage? How are caregivers recruited? What psychological screening takes place? How much training do they receive in child development? What is the staff-to-child ratio? How are incidents documented? How are parents informed? These are not unreasonable demands. They are the minimum expectations for anyone entrusted with children.
Equally troubling are reports suggesting that a previous whistleblower may have faced consequences after raising concerns. If true, that deserves as much scrutiny as the abuse allegations themselves. Healthy organisations protect people who speak up. They do not punish them.
More so, children cannot advocate for themselves. Which is why adults who do must know they will be protected.
India now needs mandatory national standards for corporate daycares — independent child safety audits, regular surprise inspections, professional certification for caregivers, psychological screening, mandatory CCTV retention, transparent grievance mechanisms and robust whistleblower protection.
Because this is no longer just about one daycare. It is about whether modern India truly supports working families.
We tell women to study harder, dream bigger, become financially independent, break glass ceilings and lead organisations. But if we cannot guarantee that their children are safe while they do so, then our promise of women’s empowerment remains incomplete.
Women’s empowerment does not begin in the boardroom. Sometimes, it begins in the daycare facility. Because when parents lose faith in childcare, mothers leave the workforce. And when mothers leave the workforce, India loses twice — once as a society, and once as an economy.
