We are like insects and flies, says a sanitation worker Meena
Kayak hum zindagi bhar maila aur gandagi saron par dhotey rahian gey, Nahi!, gandagi , gandagi hoti, magar kiya karen, pait bharney key liaye yeh kaam karna padta hai. Humarey samaj key log chahtey hain key woh bhi, har eik key saath uthey aur baithey”.
(Is it necessary we keep carrying baskets of filth on our heads all our lives? No, Filth is filth. But to live, one has to do this job. The people of our community also aspire to sit with everyone else!)
These words of 65-year old sanitation worker Shyamawati aptly reflect the stark reality of modern India, which aspires to be leader of the world (Vishwa Guru) and super power.
Despite some stringent laws to eradicate manual scavenging, there seems to be no end to the deaths and the practice of manual scavenging and ‘hazardous’ sewage work in the country. As many as 631 people have died in the country while cleaning sewers and septic tanks in the last 10 years. And to top it all, in 2019 alone 115 deaths, the highest number, were reported as the country is witnessing much-touted Swachh Bharat Abhiyan which aims to create sanitation facilities for all. The figure was provided by the National Commission for Safai Karamcharis (NCSK) in response to an RTI query on the number of deaths of manual scavengers.
According to the Safai Commission, in 2016, 55 people died while cleaning sewers and septic tanks, 62 in 2015, 52 in 2014, 68 in 2013, 47 in 2012, 37 in 2011 and 27 in 2010.
While the Centre says over 340 people died due to cleaning sewers and septic tanks in the last five years. In a written reply to a question, State Minister of Social Justice and Empowerment Ramdas Athawale told Lok Sabha that Uttar Pradesh has reported a maximum number of cases with 52 deaths followed by Tamil Nadu (43), Delhi (36), Maharashtra (34), and 31 each in Gujarat and Haryana.
An NGO, the Safai Karamchari Andolan (SKA), recorded over 300 deaths in 2017 across India.
A scan of newspaper reports from the last few years tells us that workers have died cleaning manholes, septic tanks and sewage treatment plants in a variety of urban locations – from hospitals and shopping malls to residential neighbourhoods, farmhouses and apartment complexes.
Recently, two waiters, identified as Lokesh Kumar and Prem Chand, both residents of Trilokpuri in the national capital Delhi, died inside the septic tank of the banquet hall when they were allegedly forced to clean it. Their families claimed that the two were told that they would not be paid for the day’s work if they didn’t clean the tank. The police have arrested four persons in this connection. But the case is likely to die down with the passage of time as happened in other cases.
However, much of the discourse on manual scavenging presupposes that it persists as a result of failure to implement the law that prohibit it – had the law been implemented properly, the country would have seen an end to the deaths and the practice of manual scavenging and ‘hazardous’ sewage work.
In 1993, the Employment of Manual Scavengers and Dry Latrines (Prohibition) Act was enacted by the Congress government at the Centre, with the stated objective of declaring the employment of manual scavenging an offence. However, there were a series of conditions that rendered the law impotent. Among these was the condition that state governments would notify the construction and maintenance of dry latrines illegal only if there are adequate facilities for the use of water-seal latrines in that area.
There are an estimated 1.2 million sanitation workers in India, most of whom are Dalits or from denotified tribes (DNTs), once classified under the Criminal Tribes Act 1871 as ‘criminal tribes’.
They constitute the most wretched section of the society forced to live under miserable and inhuman condition for centuries.
“I do manual scavenging everyone considers disgusting. Cleaning cow dung is fine but no one wants to clean human excreta,” Meena told Radiance Viewsweekly.
Narrating her plight, she further said, “I had dripping of the wet muck. Once the full basket on my head fell on me and people around were spitting at me. I had never done this kind of work at my father’s home but I had to work in Delhi.”
Because of deeply entrenched caste prejudices, the society is not ready to give them the status of equal human beings.
As Shyamwati points out, “Scavenging is a living hell; after we finished our work, they’d leave the money at the doorstep for us. In any case, we were never allowed inside their houses.”
“Untouchability is still a stark reality in our country. Nobody welcomes us into their homes also. They still call us bhangi, untouchability has not ended,” says Meena.
“We are like insects and flies…they can squash us, walk over and seek their progress,” she adds.
Vishal, a young sanitation worker, has the similar bitter experience. He says, “It has been ingrained in people’s mind that if a certain person is of certain caste, they cannot go beyond the dictates of their caste. If he is a potter, he will only make vessels. If he tries to move forward, he will be pulled down with the excuse as to who will make our vessels then? Who will do our cleaning then?”
He alleged that the upper caste officials do not want us to progress, and to be given equal opportunities.
There is a great deal of evidence that links the practice of manual scavenging to caste in the Indian subcontinent – dating to texts such as Narada Samhita and Vajasaneyi Samhita, which relegated the work of scavenging to slaves. These texts demonstrate that the work of cleaning human excreta has long been linked to coercion. The Brahminical social order assigns labour to individual castes along the axis of work that is ritually ‘pure’ or ‘polluting’, and within this logic, removing human excreta is considered the most polluting occupation and, as a result, has been imposed upon Dalit castes.
It is interesting to note that despite the widespread opposition amongst upper-caste Indians to reservation policies for Dalit and Adivasi people, in the case of municipal sanitation jobs there is an unstated 100 per cent reservation for those belonging to scheduled and backward caste groups.
Activist V R Raman, who is also head of policy Water Aid, says this is one of the worst forms of exploitation that has been celebrated as tradition in our country. Speaking to Radiance, Raman underlines, “Many of us are proud of our centuries-old heritage and civilisation but this is one issue where we must be ashamed of our history.”
In line with Raman’s views, noted activist and retried IAS officer, Harsh Mander said, “It is a social truth we must face as a reflection of ourselves that this system has continued over centuries because it did not trouble any of us privileged lot.”
Bezwada Wilson, national convener of Safai Karamchari Andolan, an organisation working to eliminate manual scavenging, poses a question, What is scavenging? It is asking another human being to clean human excreta by hand. It is happening everywhere in the country as 1.6 lakh women have been doing this job, Wilson who has played a vital role in the struggle against scavenging told Radiance.
The Magsaysay Award winning activist wanted to be a priest, but he found dry latrines even in churches and no one was willing to do anything about it.
Later, when he went to court with this matter, he found the very court had dry latrines cleaned manually which is illegal. This led to the establishment of the Safai Karamchari Andolan, said Wilson.
Mander described the Andolan as the biggest movement against casteism and untouchability post-Independence.
The Act 2013 makes it clear that cleaning of sewers or septic tanks without protective gear amounts to hazardous cleaning and attracts penal consequences.
The deaths of sewage workers have reached epidemic proportions across Indian cities, though there has been little State intervention in the issue.
Activists, however, said that such deaths continue to happen because of poor implementation of the Prohibition of Employment as Manual Scavengers and their Rehabilitation Act.
Wilson blamed the poor implementation of the law that has left the sanitation workers in a lurch.
“A single person has not been punished under the Act since its enactment. An Act should not be a false promise like an election manifesto; it should be what we should implement in an unequal society,” he underlined.
Sanjeev Kumar, secretary of Dalit Adivasi Shakti Adhikar Manch (DASAM) agreed with Wilson that strict implementation of the Act is the biggest issue. Akhila Sivadas, Executive Director of the Centre for Advocacy and Research (CFAR), suggests there is a need to recognise the magnitude of the problem.
Families of sanitation workers have developed a strong grudge against the caste system and the successive governments.
“We don’t own land; we don’t have any employment. The children of the privileged go to school, join the army, police and swanky workplaces; but why not us? Why are we pushed only into manual scavenging?” they asked.
All I want is for my children to have respectable, well-paying jobs. Is this our destiny to clean other people’s filth? I am not going to put my children into all this, I want my children to study, Meena emphasises.
Mander’s Centre for Equity Studies has conducted a detail survey of the current working conditions of sanitation workers. It also published the India Exclusion Report which provides graphic details about sanitation workers.
Mander suggested a joint survey under the Central Act where civil society members, representatives of the movement and the government would get together and come up with recommendations to put a stop to manual scavenging.