Dharavi by Joseph Campana

Author:Joseph Campana
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers India
Published: 2013-02-15T16:00:00+00:00

The most important quality for any woman who wants to work in the recycling business in Dharavi is courage, Hanumanti says. ‘The courage to work hard as well as the courage to confront people, both are required. Without that, a woman will not survive here.’ We are sitting at the back door of her shed, facing a wasteland between buildings. Spools of ripped-out tape are glinting in the evening sun; yogurt containers, biscuit boxes, rubber soles, all kinds of garbage cover the ground. Children small and big, with or without sandals, with or without clothes, are playing on the waste.

Like other work sectors, the recycling world in Dharavi is hostile to women. People would not sell waste to Hanumanti when she first started, or they would quote exorbitant rates. ‘When I went to the market, they would try to harass me or abuse me, the men would mock me,’ she recalls. ‘I learned to talk nicely to everyone, calling the men “brother”, “baba”, and kept working. I learned not to wear nice clothes or jewellery because that would attract unwanted attention. In a new business you learn as you go along, with a rhythm of loss and profit. But as women, we face additional hurdles and sexual harassment. Of a hundred men in this business, eighty are scoundrels. We have to constantly face such men.’

Years after her first husband died, Hanumanti married again. She did this, in part, as protection against being a single woman. She is entirely capable of looking after herself, she says, but having a husband around can reduce unwanted attention from other men. Her husband drinks a lot. When he is sober, he sporadically helps her. ‘He does a bit of the work, but the real labour is mine. He is a husband in name only,’ she says with a disdainful smile. ‘I have to look after the house as well as the business. My entire family depends on me. I have no option but to keep working. Even after all these years, I cannot rest,’ she says, her eyes always exhausted, her half-grey hair dishevelled.

Recently, two fans and a rusting bicycle were stolen from Hanumanti’s shed. All godowns here, even those that are locked, are frequently burgled. ‘Even if I ask a male worker to sleep in the godown, one man is no guarantee against a group of men who easily break the lock,’ she says. ‘Sometimes, the men who sleep there overnight are in partnership with the people who steal. Nobody can do anything about this problem.’

Complaining to the police does not help; the police don’t take any action. Instead, they are a source of harassment. ‘Every week, they come here,’ Hanumanti says, pointing to the silver-grey tin door of her shed. ‘All of them have to be paid hafta (weekly sum).’ Extortion eats into the hard-earned incomes of people at the low end of the recycling business.

Rents for godowns can range from Rs 8,000 to Rs 20,000 or more, in addition to deposit amounts.

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