CHENNAI: As the sounds of Deepavali crackers fizzle out and the city’s lanes are strewn with its remnants, we take a look at the streets of Sivakasi that harbours the stories of firecracker workers. After the Supreme Court announced a nationwide ban on barium salts (green salts) in 2023, the workers continue to use red, yellow, and white salts to manufacture crackers. The production goes on in the factories, however, the hostile working conditions are not on a progressive tangent, the workers remark. Crammed rooms scattered with a variety of chemicals and crackers, prone to explosions, and workers covered in layers of chloride dust, are still common sights inside these factories.
The stories of schoolchildren in Sivakasi are testimonies to the ground reality of the lives of firecracker workers; their lives bespeak the pervasive nature of the occupation of fireworks, how it trickles down to every resident in the area. A teacher from Senior Government Higher Secondary School, Thiruthangal, P Vivekanandan, has witnessed the children’s battles with their circumstances. In the school, 80% of the students are from families of firecracker workers, and among them, many are orphans.
Firecracker work is the mainstay in Sivakasi. This occupation did not spare even children, let alone, adults. There is no official record about the school dropouts, however, he points out that children do lend a helping hand to their parents in the cracker productions. They assist their parents on their holidays and sometimes, even take leave to help them, without the knowledge of the school management.
A harrowing image of a jittery little girl mourning after a long wait for her deceased father has left him with a deep scar and the pain visits like a fierce ghost from the past. Vivekanandan recalls, “The kid’s father passed away in an accident that occurred in a nearby factory.
The incident happened around 11 am and even by 7 pm, the body wasn’t recovered. Buried under the rubble, his body stayed there for hours. With no crane truck in the locality to find and lift the body, it had to be arranged and finally, with the help of a police officer, I scrambled to find the body.”
Engulfed in the shroud of helplessness in the face of such numerous crises, he points out the lack of government intervention. The fire service department, he says, is also oblivious to the accidents and deaths. “This is the way of life for people living here,” Vivekanandan says.
Elaborating, he notes that the people who have died in explosions are mostly from scheduled castes. One has to be privileged to have the space and time to grieve, and grief cannot be afforded by many workers and families in Sivakasi. He says, “Even if there is a death in the family, they finish the rituals in two days and get back to work.”
Risks and reasons
Lack of proper measures and infrastructural gaps are causes for the tragic accidents and deaths that ensue. The compartmentalisation of factory rooms was a way to ensure that different kinds of crackers were produced in other spaces. However, now the spaces have shrunken into a room, and there is mass production. He explains, “Earlier, in five rooms, 25 cases of crackers were manufactured.
Each room is labelled as ‘medicine’, and ‘mixing’ and is used only for that purpose. Now, 25 workers work in one room and 25 cases of crackers are manufactured in a day. That is one of the reasons why fire mishaps happen. New people are hired and they don’t need to be fully equipped for the work. An oversight by one worker can lead to major mishaps.”
This large strip of land in Sivakasi has many small unorganised factories. Social structures have conveniently divided these factories and owners. While probes and raids are almost part of these factories, the inspection officers check them based on communities.
“The factory owners from wealthy areas in the city are often let off the hook. But, individuals from lower-income strata or lower castes, who plan to set up a factory, are barred from getting forward with their business and are crushed if they are found to be a threat to competitors. Officials clamp down on their setups when they track down any lower caste person trying to establish their factory. All of these happen in the dark,” says Vivekananda.
Of the 1,500 factories, 100 are run by people from lower-income communities, but they can’t be a competitor to established brands, says the teacher. Compensation is just a charity, a monetary replacement for a human loss, an offshoot of the government’s pity for these faceless people, who are aloof from the benefits. He says, “When accidents happen and lives are lost, only cheques are given to the children. The kids do not know what to do with the cheques.”
Where are the identities of these factory workers recorded? Is there a headcount of how many employees come for work on a particular day? Puthusamy, who works in a chemical factory says, “They (factory authorities) write our names on a notebook; there is no other way of ensuring safety. We use chemicals like red salt, yellow salt, white salt, and polyvinyl chloride, which have perilous side effects. After the work, my eyes start burning. Despite having to closely work with these chemicals, we are not given any materials like gloves, masks, or even soaps to wash off the chemical remains on our body.”
Implying the insignificance of their lives and looming uncertainty, he says there is no insurance for our work, too. Puthusamy says, “Amenities like provident funds and gratuity are offered to relatives of the factory owners, who do official work. We don’t have any benefits. In case of accidents, there are compensations from the government given to families. But owners usually turn a blind eye to such incidents.”
In case of an explosion, there are two vehicles of fire force to extinguish the water, says Vivekanandan. He adds, “But if the water gets over, they have to go almost 10 km to fill the tanks, which would take about two hours. Each factory should have a large water tank inside. This should be implemented as we have seen fire force workers struggling for water.”
Sparks of struggle
After Deepavali, the rains dampen the production, and profit is dull, too. When the factory doors are shut, there is no stable source of income for the workers. Puthusamy says, “For kattu velai (construction works), only 20 people would be needed. How can 200 people be accomodated?”
Managing the finances in the next two to three months is quite burdensome. Another worker Ganesh*, who has been working for 25 years in the firecracker company, says that he does vyavasaayam (agriculture) during the slump, which doesn’t fetch him enough money. He stresses the stagnancy of the job, “Apart from manufacturing fireworks, we are not equipped in any other work. We have no other choice, but to do what we already know.”
While there are workers like Puthusamy who want the issues to be addressed, there are workers like Shanthi too, who do the work of coating the crackers with layers of chemicals, without complaining a bit. Unsuspecting about the rights of the workers, she says, “I don’t know what chemicals they are. We use bare hands to coat these crackers. Our owner comes and supervises the work.”
As Vivekananda says, this work routine has become part of their lives, and not many question the system. There are numerous people and families surrendering to this job fraught with danger, and working relentlessly, to make their ends meet.
*Name changed