The Continuing Evil of Manual Scavenging—Arnaaz Zaman

On 10^th September, 2018, five young individuals were killed due to toxic gas poisoning after they were coerced to illegally enter a sewer tank. This incident, which took place just a few months ago at the DLF apartment complex, was reported from the bustling city of New Delhi.

What is important to ask here is, why such incidents are significant in the public discourse.  Most people in cities like Delhi don’t pay heed to manual scavengers who work in extremely unhealthy and insanitary conditions.  To most they are just sources of hindrance that cause inconvenience and traffic jams during monsoons.

However, what is important to highlight is that such incidents have to be placed in a larger social context. They have to be understood as a product of social hierarchies, mainly the caste system, that has plagued our society for hundreds of years.

The National Commission for Safai Karamcharis (NCSK) has reported that one manual scavenger dies every five days cleaning sewers and septic tanks. These deaths do not just indicate poor working conditions but social inequalities that subject only certain marginalised groups to such menial labour. The incident of 10^th September 2018, was registered under the Scheduled Castes and Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, 1989.  Thus, social evils like caste and untouchability, that are often trivialized by even the ruling authorities, are the source of such instances.

To draw upon Dr B.R. Ambedkar’s interpretation, the caste hierarchy is not just a division of labour, but in fact a division of labourers. Hence, the lowest rungs of the caste system are trapped into the vicious cycle of hereditary occupation and are coerced to perform labour like manual scavenging, associated with impurity and indignity.

Surveys conducted by the Human Rights Watch have showed that the men and women of the Valmiki (a Dalit community) were employed by urban municipal corporations, which means that they were either directly employed by the government or indirectly by contractors. An account of a Safai Karamchari in the Bharatpur Municipal Corporation, explained her work as:

“I clean my area, these two lanes. I clean twice a day because it’s so dirty. I sweep the roads and I clean the drains. I have to pick out the excreta, along with any garbage from the drains. I have to do it. If I do not, I will lose my job.”

To give a background, the Employment of Manual Scavengers and Construction of Dry Latrines (Prohibition) Act was passed in 1993. This marked the initial recognition of the rampant prevalence of manual scavenging. This law was further strengthened in 2013, with the Prohibition of Employment as Manual Scavengers and Their Rehabilitation Act. By the latter legislation, the scope of the law was increased by including all forms of insanitary latrines, open drains and pits than just dry latrines.

In spite of these laws, in 2013, the government recognised 12,742 manual scavengers in 13 states, of which 82 per cent were in Uttar Pradesh alone. Also, in the 2011 census, it was revealed that 740,078 households across the country were still dependent on manual scavengers for cleaning their toilets.

Although the 2013 Act talks about the importance of rehabilitation, studies have shown that states like Gujarat, Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra, Uttar Pradesh lack proper protection of manual scavengers. Grassroot organisations like Panchayats often employ Dalits to cleans toilets, drains etc. On refusing to engage in such activities, they are often threatened with violence. The Human Rights Watch reported an account of a woman in Mainpuri district, Uttar Pradesh:

“They called our men and said, ‘if you don’t start sending your women to clean our toilets, we will beat them.’ They said, ‘we will not let you live in peace.’ We were afraid.”

This account also shows how lower caste women are more vulnerable to be subjected to exploitation. Also due to entrenched patriarchy their struggles aren’t recognised and they aren’t even paid regular wages.

Clearly the State has not invested enough in eradicating the phenomenon of manual scavenging. This is important as modernizing India’s sanitation was a key point in Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s manifesto in 2014. However, the resilient presence of this practice and the caste system cannot but be seen as a failure of the society as a whole.

Another appalling account is of a Graduate manual scavenger Kailash who began cleaning toilets in Nhavi, Maharashtra in 1989.

“I studied Commerce and Banking, but I couldn’t find work. Even though I am educated, the Panchayat hired me to clean toilets because I am from this community.”

So, caste hierarchies are so deeply internalised that even education cannot break the taboos of purity and pollution. In order to bring about effective reforms, a caste-based approach is imperative rather than a class-based approach. The most dangerous pattern is visible among the urban upper caste elite, who fail to acknowledge their privilege that has enabled them access to social, economic and cultural capital. Hence to invigorate the principles on which the Indian nation-state was formed, there has to be collective social action.  Pushing the oppressed into an isolated dungeon instead of providing a ladder to counter social disparities, will not secure the future of this nation.