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Life in a Metro
As cities get inundated with malls and multiplexes and the country climbs yet another rung in its developmental history, TWF Mumbai correspondent Jayalakshmi Sengupta peeks backstage into the lives of the people who make this happen and, covered in grime and grunge , continue to live in the gutter of India’s business capital
Every fledgling town, every bustling city, every expanding metro has “them”. Huddled in hundreds and hundreds of small groups, they live a dismal life, working silently behind the scenes, to add to the glitz and glitter, the sparkle and shimmer of a burgeoning nation. Some see them as encroachers and a serious threat to law and order but come to think of it, without them we would not have the roads and fly-overs, the bridges and the skyscrapers, the malls and multiplexes. They are the construction workers.
“Why do you want to write about us? Why will anyone be interested?” is a genuinely stunned question of Amol, who has just been initiated in to the family trade at the tender age of 14. He and his family are among the millions of itinerant casual labourers who live in small make-shift shanties made from the throw away construction materials of cement bags, plastic sheets and bamboo shafts. They go where their work takes them, living a nomadic life, carrying only bare necessary items like utensils and clothes in small bundles. In the rainy season when there is no construction work available in the cities they make a mass exodus towards the villages to work as agricultural labourers, for those four months.
Next to the agricultural sector the construction industry is supposedly the largest income generating avenue for this illiterate, unskilled poor people, which is forever on the rise. The 8.5 million figure of the National Survey of 87-88 had increased to 286 million by 1997. “But this 6 % to 10 % of our population is the most vulnerable segments of the unorganized sector in India,” shares Patil, a social worker from Navi Mumbai. The casual, temporal nature of their job, low wages, long and uncertain working hours and inadequate welfare facilities continue to plague their existence.
“Their unhealthy living conditions and low nutritive diet make them particularly prone to all kinds of diseases,” shares, Eknath Bagul a medial social worker with the Mahatma Gandhi Hospital (MGH) of Kamothe, Navi Mumbai.
The 344 sq km area of Navi Mumbai alone, purported to City and Industrial Development Corporation of Maharashtra Ltd (CIDCO) a decade ago to be developed as a planned city, “has seen a quantum leap in construction after 2001,” shares Mr B. Gaekwad, a spokesman of CIDCO. Contributing to its “turn around” story that has put Navi Mumbai on the map of one of the fastest and most futuristic cities of India, are its few thousand workers who still live in abject poverty.
CIDCO like any local Municipality is directly responsible for the welfare of these people and to abide by the 1) The Building & Other Construction Workers (Regulation of Employment and Conditions of Service) Act, 1996 and 2) The Building & Other Construction Workers’ Welfare Cess Act, 1996.This comprehensive Central Legislation had been introduced on 20.8.96 for this category of workers precisely to end their misery. “But these acts are still not being implemented as rigorously as they should in most states,” according to Gaekwad.
CIDCO has been providing regular medical attention to its workers and services like crèches, shares Reema Dixit, chief social service officer of CIDCO. “But unfortunately apart from a few social structures, CIDCO is not directly involved with construction work anymore”, shifting the onus of the welfare measures to private builders. “But in the absence of an invigilating team, nothing questionable ever comes up and the plight of these people is never adequately addressed,” laments Patil.
Going back to the “Juna Basti” in Kharghar, Navi Mumbai, where Amol lives with at least a hundred others, one is hounded by more questions and moral dilemmas. “Will your story fetch us water and bed sheets?”
The local Bal Bharti Public School has been providing them with old clothes every now and then. But at 9.6 degree Celsius the coldest day in the 46 years, they need something extra to cover themselves with. Men in drunken stupor, their shivering and squealing children and sleepless women (some running high fever for days) all wait listlessly for their “good samaritan” to turn up.
Inspired by the “Lead India Campaign”, 70-year-old Pabitra has come forward to help them in their plight. Along with him, the residents of the local Raghunath Vihar AWHO complex generously contributed hundreds of bedcovers, to keep them warm through this unprecedented change in weather.
“We should ideally make them self reliant with micro financing, literacy drives, and health awareness programmes like SEWA has done in Ahmedabad. But for that we need dedicated effort and organising these people is a huge challenge.”
“The laws and rules and even voluntary donors and charitable institutions are all in place. All we need are crucial catalysts, NGO’s and social workers or even informed citizens to form a link to help the system perk up and make a difference where it should ”, Pabitra adds.
The harrowing tales of these men and women bring out the loopholes in the system that need immediate advocay.For example if employed, the contractors and builders are supposed to provide these people with a place to stay and are also responsible for their safety and welfare as per labour laws. Needless to say, it is hardly the case. When Sudamma’s husband fell down from the 10th floor of a site, no compensations were given for his treatment and no effort taken to help the family. The matter was immediately hushed up and he eventually died.
“Due to lack of timely and routine medical attention they are one of the biggest carriers of tuberculosis and malaria, and extremely prone to substance abuse,” informs Dr Kadam, Director, Mahatma Gandhi Hospital (MGM) Kalamboli . His team of social workers routinely provide charitable support and awareness programmes to poor people. “But it is difficult to coordinate and reach out to the construction workers as they do not stay in one place and do not come for follow up check ups, reluctant to lose a day’s wage.”
If life is slapdash most of the time it is only shoddier the other times. Once out of jobs, they have to look for vacant spots, away from the city to perch themselves, far away from the basic amenities of life. Availability of the water and medical facilities are always the most crucial needs, but the least of their headaches. Living the life of fugitive and bearing the brunt of being “encroachers”, routinely harassed, expelled and stopped from making unauthorized dwellings by the administration, is the biggest bane of their life. “Where do we go, what we do, who do we turn to for help? We have no idea. We feel so helpless.” Their remorseful refrain fills the air.
Living in a group helps at such times. The others always pull up and share their meagre resources, be it food or water, in times of dire need. 40-year-old Sudam Rathore, originally from Akola district of Nagpur, muses: “The movie ‘Sadak’ song was made on us - Raheneko ghar nahin, sone ko bistar nahin” .
“We come to know that we are not alone, there are many others suffering like us”, stinking of country liquor, toothless Tukaram, from Elivar, philosophises. “We are all waiting to die and we drink to forget it”.
Tukaram’s comrade Mohan chuckles and gets ready for work. His hand had been fractured at work, a month ago and been on a sling ever since. He is lucky it hasn’t got infected but it is just a matter of time. Till then he must look for odd jobs to save up some money for his treatment. Meanwhile Amol has one last question… “Will my picture come on your paper?” |
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