|
Magazine
No release from bondage
|
What happens after children bonded in labour are freed? Do they stay free or are they sent back to work again? VICHITRA SHARMA follows up.
|
Working in an embroidery shop ... a lost childhood.
A CHILD has six main rights — right to safety, growth, food security, schooling, play and development in an environment free of exploitation. However, these can't be fulfilled if the parents, the wider family or guardians lack an enabling environment to live with dignity.
New Delhi: Inder is scared and unsure. He is six and looks around at the other boys for answers. Still dazed, Inder is one of the 19 boys between six and 12 who were picked up from a basement sweatshop in the heart of Delhi's East of Kailash (Garhi village). His cousins and he were brought to Delhi by Feroze Khan who also hails from Muzzafarpur (their hometown in Bihar). He assured their mothers that he would educate them, teach them some skill and also send some money every month. But these were merely empty words.
The basement at Amrit Nagar, where the children were kept for over eight months, has a small door at one end for an entrance next to a sewage drain. There are three large rooms with no ventilation. A corridor along the room on one side has ventilators opening onto the drain. The dark and dingy rooms have just one little room up a stairway, which served as a toilet and bath.
The children, sitting in a large dormitory at the Prayas Observation Home for Runaway Juveniles, revealed their experiences. Some were outspoken but others required some coaxing to speak.
The children were divided into three units (factories) under the charge of Zulekha, Jafir and Feroze Khan. They had to put "silma, sitara aur jari ka kaam (glitter)" on garments meant for trendy fashion houses. "We worked from 6 a.m. to 12.30 p.m. and then after half hour's break for lunch again until 9 p.m. or 11 p.m., according to the workload," explained Mohammad Usman, 11. "In our factory," added Dinesh, "we even worked until 2 a.m."
Were they beaten? He nodded in affirmation, adding that if he made a mistake or fell asleep on the job, he would be kicked.
Outside the Observation Home, under the shade of a huge neem tree sat the family members of these children. For three days, they assembled daily in the hope that the Magistrate of the Juvenile Welfare Board would grant them the permission to take the children home.
In the crowd were Sharda and Leelamani. Both are grass cutters. They have come to collect Inder, Dinesh and Satbir. "What could I do? My husband died of Kalazar. I have six children; the eldest is a daughter, 14. She and I are the only earning members. We get Rs.10 each for cutting grass," said Sharda. Abject poverty forced her to send young Inder to Delhi. Jaggannath Paswan, a "taari tapper" (toddy tapper), Sharma Paswan. Chander Kumar, Baijnath Paswan, Nageshwar Paswan tell the same story.
T.C. Gautam, an activist of the Rastriya Shoshan Mukti Morcha, took up the issue of bonded children. He moved to the National Human Rights Commission and the Deputy Commissioner of Police on behalf of the parents from rural Bihar.
For 12 days, the children were kept in the observation home while the families tried to collect some proof of parentage to get custody of the children. Interestingly, many returned to Delhi with the sarpanch's certificate, a ration card and an election identity card from remote rural Bihar. Even the grass cutter, Sharda, possessed an election identity card.
Muzzafarpur (Bihar): Six weeks later, it was time to check out on the children. The journey to Basatpur, Kattha and Madhochapra was arduous and uncertain. Large craters passed off as roads. Even the kilometres marked on the milestone had faded, a sign that this, perhaps, was what one called "the godforsaken" areas of Bihar. Contact was finally established at the tea stall through a photograph of the rescued bonded children.
Exasperation evaporated at the sight of the beaming faces of Satinder, Dinesh, Mukesh and Inder. All looked up eagerly to see if I had come to take them back to the big city.
"We want to go back to the children's jail. Please take us with you. We liked it there. We were able to study and also play there," said Satinder as the others chorused the same.
Initially shocked and disbelieving, I realised that they were referring to the Children's Observation Home. The police had housed the children there until the legal formalities of handing them over to their guardians were completed. That was, perhaps, the closest they had ever got to living in a comfortable and fulfilling surrounding.
Back in their village, they faced hunger, starvation and misery once again. They were still wearing the T-shirts and jeans provided by Prayas, over a month ago. Ironically, the rescued children were the only ones fully clothed. Others wandered around the village almost naked.
Dried toddy tree leaves and branches formed the bedding. There was no food. Sarda's family of seven (six children and a mother) were going to eat boiled snails for dinner because that was all that could be collected from the nearby river without having to pay for it.
Her 11-year-old girl stood in a corner with a blank expression. Despite the starving family, she had lipstick, nail varnish and cheap plastic hair clips and earrings. It was going to be a long, hard life ahead, full of exploitation for this girl.
The toddy-tapper was sending his child again to Delhi? There was silence. This was a secret. If the police found out, there would be more trouble.
New Delhi: Four months later, many have again found some odd jobs in the city. Pradeep, 12, is back in the Observation Home for the fourth time in as many years; Madan, 14, of Ferozabad has been thrown out by his "cruel" big brother twice despite having accepted custody before the Juvenile Welfare Board; Javed, 13, was ill-treated by his step-mother and is on the run.
These boys have one thing in common. They are the "repeaters". "It's a big social problem," says Rameshwar Goyal, member, Juvenile Welfare Board, who has the unhappy role of restoring these children to their parents or relatives knowing that they cannot look after them. Anita Pandit and J.P. Tiwari, the other two members, are also helpless. "Under the present law, we can do little, but to give custody to the guardian."
It's an aimless exercise. Within days of being restored, the child is sent off to work again in the hope that employer will send some money to his parents. This seldom happens.
The records tell heartrending stories. A vigilant police constable picked up a four-year-old who was washing dishes in a Delhi dhaba. A doctor couple was fined Rs.100,000 for exploiting their domestic help for five years. Her mother had left her with the couple when she was 11. A 10-year-old boy was compensated with Rs. 25,000 after being beaten up by a constable for stealing a mobile phone. The father refused to take him back. A beggar's child ran away as he refused to beg with his father. He was picked up from the railway station and sent back to the father.
Some were restored thrice, others four times. They continue to be on the run from poverty-related situations: too many children, sick father, no work, beatings at home...
(Some names have been changed.)
This series of articles has been brought out by the Press Institute of India as a sequel to the Manual of Reporting on Human Rights in India brought out by the Press Institute with the support of the British Council and the Thomson Foundation of Britain.
Printer friendly
page
Send this article to Friends by
E-Mail
Magazine
|
