Illegality thrives, safety dies in Goa

A preventable nightclub fire that killed twenty five people has exposed long standing gaps in Goa’s safety oversight and raised urgent questions about the state’s regulatory culture.

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By Aditi Verma
New Update
Fire tragedy

The devastating fire at the Birch by Romeo Lane nightclub in Arpora, which killed twenty five people, has forced Goa into a moment of collective reckoning. What unfolded was not the result of unforeseeable misfortune. It was the predictable and preventable outcome of a regulatory culture that has grown permissive, fragmented and inconsistent. One public interest petition filed in the aftermath has highlighted failures across licensing, fire safety enforcement and local administration, yet the issues run far deeper than a single pleading. The tragedy lays bare systemic weaknesses that have accumulated over years.

The known facts already tell a troubling story. The nightclub was operating without a valid construction licence and in defiance of demolition orders. Fire safety norms had not been followed. Congested entry and exit routes created a catastrophic crush once the blaze began. Poor ventilation allowed smoke to envelope the premises, leading to suffocation deaths long before flames could reach many of the victims. These failures were not hidden. They were either visible to the eye or recorded in official notices. That such conditions persisted points not only to private negligence but also to public indifference.

To understand how a popular venue could operate in such an obviously unsafe condition, one must examine the structural weaknesses of Goa’s enforcement system. Responsibility for oversight is divided across multiple authorities, including municipal councils, panchayats, district administrations, fire services, urban development and tourism regulators. Each has a particular mandate, yet none possesses the integrated authority needed to ensure full compliance from high density commercial establishments.

Fragmented jurisdiction creates space for violations to slip between agencies. Licensing processes move in silos that rarely communicate. Fire safety reviews may not be cross checked with building permissions. Demolition orders may be issued by one body but left unenforced by another. This fragmentation not only confuses operators but also dilutes accountability, allowing unsafe structures to remain functional through bureaucratic inertia or political accommodation.

The second layer of failure is capacity. Goa’s tourism sector has expanded rapidly. Its regulatory apparatus has not kept pace. Fire departments remain understaffed and under equipped. Building inspectors must cover wide areas with limited personnel. Local bodies vary in their technical expertise and their ability to withstand pressure. In such an environment, routine oversight becomes irregular and reactive, surfacing only when complaints escalate or crises unfold.

Goa’s image as a safe and vibrant coastal destination is central to its economic success. Tourism is not just an industry, it is a livelihood ecosystem involving workers, small businesses, hoteliers, transport operators and local communities. The nightclub fire has shaken that image. International travellers and domestic tourists alike view destination safety increasingly through the lens of institutional reliability. A state where unlicensed structures operate openly despite official orders invites scepticism.

The tragedy also exposes the precariousness of the workforce that underpins the nightlife and hospitality sectors. Many of the victims were young staff. Their deaths, preventable in a properly regulated environment, highlight the inequities in a tourism model that relies on low wage labour without ensuring corresponding protections. An unsafe tourism economy is not simply a governance failure. It is also an ethical one.

If safety concerns become entrenched, insurance costs could rise for operators, global travel advisories may shift and investor confidence could weaken. The economic price of regulatory failure is therefore far greater than the cost of enforcement.

Beyond immediate economic concerns lies the more corrosive problem of declining public trust. When residents see illegal constructions persist despite repeated official notices, or observe authorities acting only after disaster strikes, faith in institutions erodes. People begin to believe that compliance is optional and that enforcement depends on political alignment rather than statutory norms.

This deterioration of trust undermines long term governance far more than any single incident. It nurtures a civic environment in which rules appear negotiable and preventable tragedies come to be viewed as routine. Such normalisation is dangerous. It undermines the very idea of public accountability.

Goa now faces a choice: incremental adjustments or structural change. The former may satisfy immediate demands but will not address the underlying failures. The latter requires political will, administrative clarity and a willingness to prioritise safety as a central pillar of economic strategy.

A state wide fire safety audit is the logical starting point. Every nightclub, bar, restaurant, hotel and beach shack must be assessed through a uniform protocol conducted by a technically competent and independent task force. The findings must be public. Transparency will build pressure for compliance and allow residents to understand the risks in their own communities.

Next, Goa needs a unified licensing and compliance regime. Instead of multiple agencies issuing separate permissions that can contradict or bypass one another, a single digital platform should integrate fire safety, construction permissions, occupancy limits, environmental compliance and tourism licensing. Such a platform would allow automatic alerts for expired licenses, overdue inspections and pending violations. It would also create a clear, auditable trail that reduces discretion and improves accountability.

The professional capacity of regulators must also be upgraded. Fire safety inspectors require modern equipment and continuous training. Building engineers need additional support. Local bodies must have access to technical expertise that matches the complexity of commercial construction in a high density tourism zone. Without skilled personnel, even the best policies will fail in implementation.

Equally important is accountability for official inaction. When demolition orders remain unexecuted or safety violations recur despite repeated notices, responsibility must extend beyond private operators to the public authorities who failed to enforce the law. Performance metrics that link administrative advancement to compliance outcomes could shift incentives in the right direction.

Finally, Goa must articulate a clear safety centred tourism strategy. Instead of treating compliance as an obstacle to business, the state should promote itself as a model of safe coastal tourism where regulations are predictable and rigorously applied. In the long term, safety is not a constraint on economic activity. It is a competitive advantage.

The Birch nightclub tragedy is more than a sobering incident. It is a warning. It reveals how deeply systemic failures can penetrate when governance adapts slowly to rapid commercial expansion. If Goa responds with superficial measures, the cycle will repeat. If it chooses structural reform, the state can rebuild trust, strengthen its tourism economy and honour the lives lost.

The path forward is clear. The question is whether Goa is willing to take it.

The writer is a policy commentator focusing on urban development, sustainability and public governance. Her work examines how planning, infrastructure and environmental decisions impact the daily lives of citizens.
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