
Smita Singh was a champion for justice — and she was my friend. Soon after I led our missions ministry to engage in the fight against human trafficking I met Biju Mathew in India. Biju introduced me to a young lady named Smita who was engaged in both rescues and the aftercare of young girls who had suffered unimaginable abuse at the hands of evil people. That was the start of a wonderful friendship and partnership in the gospel with Biju and Smita.
Earlier this week, my friend Biju called me from India to tell me the unbelievably sad news that our dear friend Smita had died. The tears came immediately. I could not stop crying. How could Smita be dead? Her value to the work of the kingdom is inestimable. Of all people, Smita understood and embraced God’s passion for justice like few others. I have found myself wiping away tears many times since that phone call.
In these days of absolute chaos in our own country we need to know about people like Smita. When so many are trying to make a point with destructive and ugly and hateful behavior, Smita actually made a difference by embodying what it means to compassionately move in the direction of people in need, just like Jesus. I am grateful to have known Smita and to call her my friend. She will forever be one of my heroes in the faith.
With his permission, I am posting Biju’s tribute to Smita from a letter he sent to his team and co-workers at International Justice Mission. Please take a moment to read Biju’s heartfelt words that show the beauty of a life well-lived for the kingdom.
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Dear Friends,
I write to you with a heavy heart. I woke up this morning hoping that yesterday was a bad dream. That I could pick up the phone and call Smita. And we could catch up on life and she could share about the joys and frustrations with the children in her homes.
Smita was a bold visionary. She pioneered IJM’s aftercare work in Kolkata in 2006. Then she launched out with an ambitious dream to start Mahima shelter homes, because she believed that the children deserved better than the current care that was being offered. Smita was unafraid to see hope in the darkness and put herself in harm’s way in order for that light to break through. She imparted this hope into every child she encountered, whether it was on a rescue operation or at her shelter homes. On recues, Smita’s calmness diffused through the team; it disarmed the angriest child; and emboldened police officers with courage to press on with the rescue. When taking the stand to testify in court, Smita’s calmness and reassurance would frustrate the fiercest defence attorneys.
Smita was the embodiment of courage and compassion. It exuded out of her. Her stubbornness was also unequally matched. She was a sister to me and we fought, loved and respected each other like siblings do. Smita could hold the complex. She was someone who didn’t over-simplify life, emotions or thinking. She understood that life was rich with pain, sorrow, joy and love. She understood that to know pain is to know love.
I mourn with you IJM Kolkata. The city has lost a daughter, a sister, and a mother to so many. I will pray for her mother especially. Smita’s mother’s words at the funeral this morning continue to echo in my thoughts: “tui iswarer meye. Iswar tor jonno opekha korche. Papai ache okhane” (You are the daughter of the Lord and the Lord is waiting for you. Your Papa is there…).
Smita selflessly fought for the freedom of so many and it’s hard to imagine this life without her. We mourn a loss that cannot be quantified, ache deeply as we try to imagine this fight without her and yet, we celebrate her life. Smita’s life profoundly impacted each of us; the city; and this country.
Let me leave you with this quote from Frederick Buechner that brings me solace today:
When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.
Much love to each of you,
Biju C Mathew
Vice President, Strategy & Operations | Africa & Europe
INTERNATIONAL JUSTICE MISSION®













