Bengaluru has about 20,000 unhappy sweepers, who survive untold hardships. They are denied their salaries and access to basic facilities such as clean toilets and healthcare. They are vulnerable to sexual harassment and are exposed to illnesses on every work day. Through it all, their employer – the BBMP – remains infuriatingly indifferent. TNIE, in a six-part series, tells life stories of these pourakarmikas.
BENGALURU:Frustrated and desperate after being denied her salary for six months, 50-year-old Kondamma, threatened to commit suicide last week. S Subramani, another pourakarmika, who committed suicide in Vyalikaval, also had been unpaid for six months.
Kondamma resides in a small house at the Indira Harijan Seva Sangha slum, tucked away behind the Vivekananda Metro station. She is a widow with three children – two daughters, who are both married, and a sickly son, 28-year-old Channayya, who stays with her. Due to his ill health and addiction to alcohol, he has not had a regular job for many years and that effectively makes Kondamma the sole bread winner for them. And the non-payment of dues has severely affected her livelihood.
And cruelly, Kondamma has been afflicted with wheezing now, when every rupee is precious. “I spend about `3,000-5,000 on every visit to the hospital. The medicines cost `2,000. The owner of the house has been screaming at us for rent. How am I supposed to live?” she says. The last payment she received was for December and since then she has not been able to pay the rent either.
Kondamma has carried on sweeping streets and doing her work, hoping that the payment will eventually be made. Ranjit, another resident of the slum in which at least 10 more pourakarmikas reside, says no pourakarmika does any other work. There is stigma attached to sweeping streets and handling garbage, and so they are not invited to do domestic work.
Ranjit also reveals that the cost of medicines for Channayya is borne by his mother. “He has pimples all over his body, he needs regular injections and medicines and all of it is bought by money she earns. He is also very weak and thin and has not studied much,” Ranjit says, in front of Kondamma, who does not raise any protest.
After several months of waiting for payment, last week, something snapped in Kondamma. She called up an activist, threatened to commit suicide, and in a fit of anger, even went as far as to say that the activist would be responsible in case of her death. The activist then assured her that her payment would be credited in a few more days. Kondamma appears a bit sheepish as she recounts the incident, but is hopeful that the activist’s assurance will be fulfilled.
She either firmly believes that her payment will be credited soon, or is forcing herself to believe it as she does not want to think of the consequences. On being asked if she has a plan B, she insists that the payment will be made soon. “Once I get paid, everything will be fine,” she adds, managing to appear cheerful.