A Dalit woman stands outside a dry toilet located in an upper caste villager’s home in Mainpuri, in the northern Indian state of Uttar Pradesh. A caste-based profession, manual scavenging condemns mostly women, but also men, to clean human excreta out of dry latrines with their hands, and carry it on their heads to disposal dumps. Many also clean sewers, septic tanks and open drains with no protective gear. Credit: Shai Venkatraman/IPS

By External Source
Aug 27 2021 (IPS)

Manual scavenging is a caste-based profession that leads to discrimination and atrocities against those engaged in it. Generations of families from marginalised communities in India have been forced to continue in this profession because of social ostracism and a lack of alternatives.

Despite legislative and judicial interventions since 1993 and the enactment of a new law in 2013, manual scavenging continues in practice. People, especially women, engaged in this profession face systemic exclusion and find it difficult to access healthcare, education, welfare, and social security schemes. They work for negligible wages and accessing alternative livelihoods remains challenging for them, despite government schemes for this very purpose.

The Association of Rural Urban and Needy (ARUN), Centre for Equity Studies (CES), and WaterAid India jointly conducted a survey in four states (Bihar, Madhya Pradesh, Jharkhand, and Uttar Pradesh) to highlight these issues. The baseline survey had 1,686 respondents and the end of action survey covered 123 women manual scavengers (WMS) in six locations in two states—Jharkhand and Uttar Pradesh.

People, especially women, engaged in this profession face systemic exclusion and find it difficult to access healthcare, education, welfare, and social security schemes. They work for negligible wages and accessing alternative livelihoods remains challenging for them, despite government schemes for this very purpose

The findings of the end of action survey reaffirm the caste and gender-based nature of manual scavenging. It also draws attention to the level of awareness about the legal provisions for people engaged in this profession.

The link between caste, gender, and manual scavenging

All the survey respondents belonged to Dalit communities, such as Valmiki, Dom, Hari, and others.

According to the survey, 27.6 percent of the WMS were still engaged in cleaning dry latrines, coming in direct contact with human faeces. These women are informal workers, do not have fixed wages, and are not paid in a timely manner. This was evident as 20.3 percent of the surveyed WMS were unemployed and had no income. The average monthly salary of 64 percent of WMS ranged from INR 240 to INR 4,500.

This is despite the fact that the Minister of Labour and Employment has mandated basic wages for those employed in sweeping and cleaning activities to be INR 350 a day.

Difficulty in finding alternative livelihood options

Several respondents expressed that they had attempted to pursue other livelihood options to move away from manual scavenging, but to no avail. Some have managed to be employed as caretakers or cleaning staff in domestic, public, or institutional settings. Their work, however, still included cleaning toilets.

They were subjected to various forms of discrimination, which impacted their well-being. The localities where they lived often had no household piped water connection and they had limited access to stand posts that supply water.

They are commonly prohibited from eating with other people and have to use separate glasses and utensils in restaurants—in those instances where they are allowed to enter. Women involved in manual scavenging experienced triple oppression—as members of a caste involved in manual scavenging, as women, and as poor people with little or no formal education.

Access to services and schemes

All the respondents had Aadhaar cards, 99.18 percent had voter cards, and 90.24 percent had ration cards. Despite this, several of them reported not being enlisted as women who carry out manual scavenging activities under The Prohibition of Employment as Manual Scavengers and their Rehabilitation Act (PEMSR Act).

Even with the required documents, many of them are yet to be enrolled as people who are employed as manual scavengers. As a result, they have been excluded from several commitments made under the PEMSR Act and Self-employment Scheme for Rehabilitation of Manual Scavengers (SRMS).

For instance, 9.76 percent of the respondents conveyed that their state government had not issued ration cards to eligible households to purchase subsidised food grains from the public distribution system. As several of the WMS did not have the required documents to meet the eligibility criteria, they could not access essential items such as wheat, rice, and sugar.

Awareness of legal provisions 

Majority of the respondents (93.93 percent) knew that manual scavenging is prohibited by law and many (77.06 percent) were cognisant of the rules and provisions of the PEMSR Act. Further, 62.88 percent were aware that their employment was illegal.

Only 27.77 percent of the respondents had any knowledge about government schemes specific to their communities, such as rehabilitation and scholarship opportunities. When asked about rehabilitation provisions under the PEMSR Act, respondents revealed that they had faced several challenges. As per the Act, authorities are expected to identify the number of people engaged in manual scavenging and take measures to ensure rehabilitation.

However, among the WMS surveyed, this has not happened. Close to 42.69 percent of them had filed an application or self-declaration to the local authority so they can be identified as a manual scavenger. Only 6.5 percent of the respondents were included in the official list of manual scavengers released by the Government of India. Additionally, 47.1 percent of the respondents had applied for a one-time cash assistance programme under the SRMS. Of this, only 2.4 percent received the sum.

Systemic measures to eliminate manual scavenging

The complete eradication of manual scavenging as a practice can only be achieved once its caste-based nature is acknowledged and systemic measures to rehabilitate and provide adequate compensation are implemented.

1. Improve the legal framework

The definition of manual scavenging in the PEMSR Act must be broadened. It must also recognise the caste-based and generational nature of the profession, and expand the criteria for people to be enrolled under the Act, with clear guidelines for implementers. Alongside this, the enforcement of the provisions of the Act are critical.

2. Better data collection, monitoring, and accountability mechanisms

The government must consistently collect reliable data on people engaged in manual scavenging. This will allow for better rehabilitation measures and enforcement of the PEMSR Act. While the Act mandates every state and union territory to have a State Commission for Safai Karamacharis, only eight of the 28 states have set these up. Thus, it is imperative that state- and district-level commissions be instituted for better monitoring of the PEMSR Act.

3. Provide adequate financing

The SRMS should have adequate budgetary allocation and utilisation by the Department of Social Justice and Empowerment. Departments such as labour, urban and rural development, health, education, and others should be given responsibilities to ensure the upliftment of communities engaged in this work.

4. Increase rehabilitation compensation

Currently, grants for the rehabilitation of WMS under the SRMS are capped at INR 40,000 per individual. However, this amount is insufficient to set up viable enterprises. The National Human Rights Commission has also recommended that this amount be revised to INR 1,00,000. A faster and more efficient process to clear applications and disburse one-time compensation and loans must also be instituted.

5. Normalise use of protective gear and technology

The central and state governments should promote and mandate the provision and use of personal protective equipment (PPE) for all sanitation work. They must also prioritise sustainable technology alternatives to eradicate all forms of manual scavenging. Increasing budget allocation for sewage treatment infrastructure or faecal sludge treatments will allow for mechanisation of toilet tank emptying, cleaning, and transportation.

6. Coordinate civil society action

Civil society organisations must make a coordinated effort to improve the health, safety, and dignity of WMS. Organisations working in the water, sanitation, and hygiene (WASH) sector need to come together and work in conjunction with trade unions and the government to ensure that the livelihoods and human rights of people engaged in manual scavenging are protected.

Sharanya Menon is an editorial analyst at India Development Review. In addition to writing, editing, and sourcing content, she also supports the team with website management. Prior to this, Sharanya interned at The Institute of Chinese Studies and The YP Foundation. She recently graduated with an integrated masters in development studies from IIT Madras.

This story was originally published by India Development Review (IDR)

In India, close to a million Dalit women work as manual scavengers: labourers who are forced to empty out dry latrines with their bare hands. Credit: Neeta Lal/IPS

By Neeta Lal
NEW DELHI, May 4 2015 (IPS)

As India paid glowing tributes to Bhimrao Ramji Ambedkar, the architect of its constitution and a champion of the downtrodden, on his 124^nd birth anniversary last month, public attention also swivelled to the glaring social and economic discrimination that plagues the lives of lower-caste or ‘casteless’ communities – who comprise over 16 percent of the country’s 1.2 billion people.

The Right to Equality – enshrined in the Indian Constitution in 1950 – guarantees that no citizen be discriminated on the basis of religion, race, caste, sex or place of birth. The Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act of 1989 further lays down a penalty of imprisonment from six months to a year for violators.

"Men would shuffle in and out of my room at night as if I had no right over my body, only they did. It broke me down completely." -- A 27-year-old Dalit woman, forced to serve as a 'temple slave' in South India
Yet, despite constitutional provision and formal protection by law, the world’s largest democracy is still in the grip of what erstwhile Prime Minister Manmohan Singh described as “caste apartheid”: a complex system of social stratification that is deeply entrenched in Indian culture.

For millions of Dalits, or ‘untouchables’, existing at the bottom of India’s caste pyramid, discriminatory treatment remains endemic and continues to be reinforced by the state and private entities.

A 2014 survey by the National Council of Applied Economic Research (NCAER) revealed that one in four Indians across all religious groups admitted to practising untouchability.

This heinous practice manifests itself in multiple ways: in some villages, students belonging to higher castes refuse to eat food cooked by those who fall under the Dalit umbrella, which encompasses a host of marginalised groups.

In parts of the central state of Madhya Pradesh – which researchers say is one of the worst geographic offenders when it comes to untouchability – Dalit children are ostracised, or made to sit separately in school and served food from a distance.

A detailed study of the Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan, a government-sponsored programme aimed at achieving universal primary education, found three kinds of exclusion faced by students protected under the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (SC/ST) Act — by teachers, by peer groups and by the entire academic system.

This includes “segregated seating arrangements, undue harshness in reprimanding SC children, excluding SC children from public functions in the school and making derogatory remarks about their academic abilities”, among others.

Legal protections, but no implementation

India’s infamous caste system, considered a dominant feature of the Hindu religion and widely perceived as a divinely-sanctioned division of labour, ascribes to Dalits the lowliest forms of menial labour including garbage collection, removal of human waste, sweeping, cobbling and the disposal of animal and human bodies.

Data from the 2011 census reveals that some 800,000 Dalits are engaged in ‘manual scavenging’ – though some estimates put the number at closer to 1.3 million.

Despite enactment of The Employment of Manual Scavengers and Construction of Dry Latrines (Prohibition) Act of 1993, which provides for punishment, including fines, for those employing scavengers, hundreds of thousands of Dalits continue to clear human waste from dry latrines, clean sewers and scour septic tanks and open drains with their bare hands.

Dalits have historically been condemned to perform the lowliest forms of manual labour, from cobbling to garbage collection. Credit: Neeta Lal/IPS

In a blatant violation of this law, several Government of India offices continue to have such labourers on their payrolls. The majority of manual scavengers are women, who are forced to carry the waste on their heads for disposal in dumps, generally situated on the outskirts of towns or cities.

Over the years, scholars, researchers and academics have echoed what the members of the Dalit community already know to be true: that caste in India largely determines the limits of a person’s economic, social or political life.

Denied access to land, education and formal job markets, Dalit peoples face an additional hurdle: routine sexual, physical and verbal abuse by higher-caste communities and even law enforcement personnel, making it nearly impossible to seek justice or even basic recourse against discrimination.

Beena J Pallical, a member of the National Campaign on Dalit Human Rights, an umbrella group comprising various Dalit organisations, told IPS that even in the 21st century Dalits still remain the most vulnerable, marginalised and brutalised community in India.

“There is systemic and systematic exclusion of this class mainly because the political will to empower them is missing despite a raft of policy guidelines,” she said.

From as far back as India’s fifth Five-Year Plan (1974-75), provision has been made for channelling government funds into services and benefits for scheduled castes.

Schemes like the Tribal Sub-Plan (TSP) for Scheduled Tribes and the Scheduled Caste Sub Plan were introduced to allocate portions of the government’s yearly budget proportionate to the size of each demographic in need of state funds. Currently, scheduled castes comprise 16.2 percent of the population, while scheduled tribes now account for 8.2 percent of the population.

However, despite these policy guidelines, successive Indian governments have consistently ignored laws on allocation and lagged behind on implementation. According to Dalit activist Paul Divakar, analyses of federal and state budgets reveal that denial, non-utilisation and diversion of funds meant for the upliftment of scheduled tribes and castes are fairly routine practises.

“This clearly demonstrates that economic development of this [demographic] is not the government’s priority,” Divakar told IPS. “The Dalits continue to lag behind because of non-implementation of policies and lack of targeted development, which should be made punishable under Section 4 of The Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, 1989.

“A majority of these people continue to languish in extreme poverty and unemployment because of their social identity and lack of resources. A holistic state intervention is vital for their all-round development,” he added.

Extreme violence

According to the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB), a crime is committed against a Dalit by a non-Dalit every 16 minutes; every day, more than four untouchable women are raped, while every week 13 Dalits are murdered and six kidnapped.

In 2012, 1,574 Dalit women were raped and 651 Dalits were murdered.

Dalit women and girls, far removed from legal protections, also continue to be exploited as ‘temple slaves’ – referred to locally as ‘joginis’ or ‘devadasis’. In a practice that dates back centuries in India, Dalit girls – some as young as five years old – believed to be born as ‘servants of god’, are dedicated in an elaborate ritual to serve a specific deity.

Bound to the temple, they are forced to spend their childhood as labourers and their adult life as prostitutes, although the custom was outlawed in 1989.

Twenty-seven-year-old Annamma* a jogini at a temple in Tamil Nadu, recalls how men (including priests) raped her for five years before she managed to escaped to a women’s home in New Delhi last month.

“It was as if I wasn’t even a human being,” she told IPS. “Men would shuffle in and out of my room at night as if I had no right over my body, only they did. It broke me down completely.”

In Sanskrit, the word Dalit means suppressed, smashed, or broken to pieces. Sixty-seven years after India’s independence, millions of people are still being broken, physically, emotionally and economically, by a system and a society that refuses to treat them as equals.

*Name changed upon request

Edited by Kanya D’Almeida

A Dalit woman stands outside a dry toilet located in an upper caste villager’s home in Mainpuri, in the northern Indian state of Uttar Pradesh. The village has witnessed major violence against those who have tried to leave the profession of ‘manual scavenging’. Credit: Shai Venkatraman/IPS

By Shai Venkatraman
MUMBAI, Jan 6 2015 (IPS)

Watching Bittal Devi deftly weave threads of different colours into a vibrant patchwork quilt, it’s hard to imagine that this 46-year-old’s hands have spent the better part of their life cleaning toilets.

Born in Sava, a village in the state of Rajasthan in northwestern India, Devi is from a community that, down the centuries, has worked as ‘manual scavengers’.

A caste-based profession, it condemns mostly women, but also men, to clean human excreta out of dry latrines with their hands, and carry it on their heads to disposal dumps. Many also clean sewers, septic tanks and open drains with no protective gear.

“One human being carrying the shit of another on their head is not the problem of that woman or that community alone. It’s the struggle of the people of this country and together we can abolish this.” -- Aashif Shaikh, founder of Jan Sahas, an NGO working to end the practice of 'manual scavenging'.
They are derogatorily referred to as bhangis, which translates into ‘broken identity’. Most of those employed are Dalits, who occupy the lowest rung in the caste hierarchy and are condemned to tasks that are regarded as beneath the dignity of the upper castes.

“I started doing this job when I was 12 years old,” Devi recalls. “I would accompany my mother when she went to the homes of the thakurs (upper castes) in our village everyday to clean their toilets.

“We would go to every home to pick up their faeces. We would gather it with a broom and plate into a cane basket. Later we would take the basket to the outskirts of the village and dispose [of] it.”

They cleaned 15 toilets each day, which earned them 375 rupees (a little over six dollars) per month, plus a set of old clothes from the homes they worked in, gifted once a year during the Diwali festival.

Devi remembers that she was unable to eat during the first week. “I would throw up every time my mother placed food in front of me”. Harder still to bear, were the taunts of her upper caste classmates.

“They would cover their noses and tell me that I smelled. I, along with the other children from my caste, was made to sit away from the rest of the students.” She eventually dropped out of school.

There was no question of refusing to do the work. “From birth I, like the other children from my community, was told that this was our history and our destiny,” says Devi. “This was the custom followed by our forefathers which we had to continue with.”

Caste-based discrimination or untouchability was banned in India in 1955 and several legislative and policy measures have been announced over the decades to end the cruel and inhumane custom of manual scavenging.

As recently as September 2013, the government outlawed employing anyone to clean human faeces.

On the ground, however, these measures have proved ineffective, the main reasons being that policies are not properly implemented, people are unaware that they can refuse to work as manual scavengers, and those who do resist face violence and the threat of eviction.

Women unite for change

According to the International Dalit Solidarity Network, which works towards the elimination of caste-based discrimination, there are an estimated 1.3 million ‘manual scavengers’ in India, most of them women.

Civil rights groups say that often women are victims twice over. Not only are they are looked down upon by the upper castes, they are also forced to do the work by their husbands who find it degrading, but expect the wives to continue with the custom.

Bittal Devi’s neighbour, Rani Devi Dhela, also started working as a manual scavenger at the age of 12, an occupation she continued with in her marital home, as her husband was unemployed.

She enrolled her four children in the village school, hopeful that education would change their future. Reality dawned when her 11- year-old daughter came back home in the middle of the day, sobbing.

“She had worn a new set of clothes to school and the upper caste children and teachers taunted her for showing off,” Dhela tells IPS.

Her daughter was told to clean up another child’s vomit and the school toilets. “When she refused they told her that this was her future as she was a bhangi’s daughter and that by attending school she should not entertain any illusions about herself.

“A teacher even threatened to pour acid into her mouth. That was the day I realised nothing would change unless I challenged these people. I put the cane basket down for good and decided that I would rather starve to death,” she adds.

At a rally in New Delhi, Dalit women burn baskets used to collect human waste as a sign of protest against the caste-based practice of ‘manual scavenging’. Credit: Shai Venkatraman/IPS

It was a battle that Dhela found herself all alone in. The upper castes ganged up on her and her community failed to extend support. Worse still was the reaction from her husband and in-laws, who beat her up.

“The thakurs burned down our hut and told my husband they would throw us out. But my children supported me,” says Dhela.

Eventually so did a few other women, including Bittal Devi. Together, they travelled to a nearby town, to the office of the NGO Jan Sahas, which has been campaigning against manual scavenging for over 17 years.

“We had been trying to get the community in this village to stop manual scavenging but they were too scared to resist,” Sanjay Dumane, associate convenor of Jan Sahas, tells IPS. “After what happened to Rani Devi [Dhela], some of them decided to fight back.”

But there was fierce resistance from the village police who not only refused to register a complaint, but also advised the women to accept their place in society.

It was only after they approached police authorities at the district level that action was taken.

“A platoon of police vans came into the village with senior officers who warned the upper castes that they would be jailed if they were found violating the law on manual scavengers,” says Dumane.

An uphill battle

As of early February 2014, manual scavenging is no longer practiced in Sava village. “Some of the upper castes have chosen to boycott us,” says Dhela. “They don’t invite us to their weddings or for festivals. But my children and husband are proud of me and that makes me happy.”

“A lot of people tell me ‘You had no right to leave the profession’,” adds Archana Balnik, 28, who campaigned to put an end to manual scavenging in her village of Digambar in the central Indian state of Madhya Pradesh. “But I want to change my future and that of the children in my village.”

Most of the women who have quit have found work in road and bridge construction projects. A few have enrolled in Dignity and Design, a low-cost, community based initiative launched by Jan Sahas in the states of Bihar and Madhya Pradesh for the rehabilitation of women liberated from manual scavenging.

“We provide training in basic skills like tailoring and embroidery and have set up units for manufacturing bags, purses and other products,” Aashif Shaikh, founder of Jan Sahas, tells IPS.

“We hope to set this up across India with the support of the government and private sector.”

Women like Bittal Devi and Rani Devi Dhela are the ambassadors of Jan Sahas, which claims to have liberated over 17,000 women from manual scavenging across different parts of India.

Changing attitudes across the country, however, is an uphill battle. The recent India Human Development Survey report highlighted how deeply entrenched notions of caste purity are in contemporary Indian society, with a fourth of Indians practicing untouchability.

“There are signs of change especially in the younger generation, which is more educated,” says Shaikh, whose NGO conducts awareness campaigns in colleges and schools.

“One human being carrying the shit of another on their head is not the problem of that woman or that community alone. It’s the struggle of the people of this country and together we can abolish this.”

Edited by Kanya D’Almeida