Freed
slaves rebuild their lives
|
|
By
Sanjoy Majumder
BBC News, Tamil Nadu |
Under
a scorching midday sun, a group of men survey a row of
thatched huts built on a barren stretch of land.
|
Conditions
are basic in Palabakam village |
"We could
place the classroom there," says Rajamani who is
perspiring heavily. Palabakam is a very basic, almost
primitive village that has just been built in the southern
Indian state of Tamil Nadu, just a few hours drive north
of the capital Madras. But its inhabitants are not put
off by its remote location or the fact that most of the
houses provide only a little protection from the harsh
climate.
The 400 people
who live here all have one thing in common - they were
recently freed from a life of virtual slavery. "We
were bonded labourers," explains Murugesan, "working
in rice mills not far from here."
Murugesan
is one of 100 people who were released from several rice
mills located in Red Hills, just 17km north of Madras.
|
"There
was no drinking water, no toilets, no where to bathe |
All of them are
Irulas - an indigenous tribe local to the area but displaced
from their land over the years. "Thousands of Irula
tribal families are kept as bonded labour in hundreds
of rice mills in Red Hills," says Sidhamma, a women's
activist who helped free the bonded labourers. "They
are mostly illiterate and completely unaware of their
rights," she says.
Life of slavery
Lakshmi,
32, recalls her life in the rice mill as one that she
would like to rapidly forget. "We slept in the open
- never mind whether the sun was beating down or it was
pouring with rain. "There was no drinking water,
no toilets, no where to bathe. If I wanted to take a bath,
I had to do it in the open, in front of all the men."
She
has three children, who were also forced to work - the
younger ones cleaned the mill while the older ones helped
dry the paddy. "Many children had accidents
because they live in close proximity to mill equipment,"
says Rajamani. There was also no question of going to
school. It comes as no surprise then that one of the first
things that the freed labourers did was build a temporary
classroom for the children.
Hard struggle
For some, the consequences of working in those conditions
were horrific. D Sekhar, 28, was working in a rice mill
when his wife died after giving birth to their third child.
"She was forced to work right up to her delivery
and soon after," he says. "I was not even able
to conduct a proper funeral for her."
|
I
don't know how to read and write, but I want a better
life for my children
Rajamani |
Women's
activist Sidhamma says many of the women were vulnerable
to sexual exploitation. Rajamani was among several men
who ran away from the rice mill last December and approached
the activists to ask them for their help. "It was a very brave thing to do given that they could be brutally
beaten up by the owners if they were caught," says
Sidhamma.
Despite approaching the local authorities, they received
little help. "They
insisted that there was no bonded labour in the rice mills.
"This despite the fact that the workers would be
paid 15 rupees ($0.03) a day for 19 hours of hard labour,"
says Sidhamma. Under Indian law, employees must be paid
a minimum wage of 86 rupees ($2) for eight hours of work.
"Besides this, many of the workers were forced into
high debt by the owners, lived a life of virtual imprisonment
and could be traded by their employers," says Krishnan,
himself a former bonded labourer who now works to rehabilitate
them.
It was only after mass demonstrations by the workers
and the intervention of India's National Women's Commission
- a federal government body - that they were rescued.
"We managed to get wide publicity and the matter
was even raised in the Indian parliament," says Sidhamma.
|
The labourers worked 19 hour shifts for a mere three
cents |
Freedom
Several
months later, the rescued labourers are enjoying the benefits
of freedom, however basic. "It
is a wonderful feeling," says Murugesan. Most of
them now work as labourers in nearby farms. "We are
paid 50 rupees ($1.15) for half a day's work, the women
get 30 rupees (70 cents)," he says. Each family was
also given 40,000 rupees ($922) by the government. Some
of them have used the money to build brick houses.
Machines silent
But not everybody is happy. At the Bagalaxmi rice mill
in Red Hills, I am greeted with open suspicion as I ask
to be shown around. A few people are at work, but the
machines are silent. "We used to have 50 people working
here," says owner G Balasubramaniam. "Now there
are only 10." He insists that he takes good care
of his employees and that the bad publicity has only resulted
in his financial doom. "There is no help from the
government. They are only interested in helping the workers,"
he says bitterly. Back at Palabakam, a class is under
way in the village school. Gautami, a young woman from
a nearby village, now teaches some 70 children. "This
is a community school, run by us. There is no government
role here," she says as she assists a young girl
with her sums. "I teach them everything - how to
read and write Tamil, how to count - all that I know."
"It is very important for our community to be literate.
Because we were uneducated, we were exploited," says
Rajamani. "I don't know how to read and write. But
I want a better life for my children."
Story
from BBC NEWS:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/1/hi/world/south_asia/4511639.stm
Published: 2005/05/11 07:42:11 GMT
© BBC MMV