Every night, when the city sleeps, a few remain awake to ensure that its mornings are clean. ‘Unsung Hands’, a documentary by college student Sreehari Rajesh, zooms in on these ‘invisible’ lives.
Rooted in an intent to create socially relevant work around marginalised communities, the documentary follows a Kochi-based couple, Murukan and Sunitha, who are engaged in sanitation work.
The duo collects waste from residential areas, often at night. Sreehari notes that their lives are shaped by double marginalisation, socially and by their work. “People don’t really understand the importance of their work. Hardly anyone appreciates it,” says the journalism student at Sacred Heart College, Thevara.
“We place the waste outside our homes or on the premises at night. When we wake up in the morning, it’s gone. Most people don’t even know the face or names of the individuals who clear it, or about their lives and struggles.”
Sreehari’s connection to the couple is personal. Murukan and Sunitha have been collecting waste from his neighbourhood in Elamkulam, including his home, since his childhood. Sunitha suffered a stroke that left her physically weakened. Yet, she continues to toil. That, he says, pushed him to document their story.
Rather than focusing solely on hardship, ‘Unsung Hands’ captures their lived experiences and resilience. Shot over 10 days, the early versions of the documentary focused largely on their struggles, some friends questioned why there was “so much sentimentality” when “sanitation workers are just doing their job for which they are paid”.
Those responses prompted Sreehari to rebalance the narrative — to show dignity and humanity as values that cannot be measured by wages alone.
“When the film included their life stories, people connected with it more emotionally,” he says.
Responses to the documentary have been mixed. Many viewers, Sreehari says, acknowledge issues such as delayed wages and neglect after watching it.
The documentary was screened at Sacred Heart College, followed by an interactive session with Murukan and Sunitha. For Sreehari, that moment transformed the film into a channel for dialogue between viewers and the workers.
“Even if just one viewer pauses for a minute to reflect on the humanity angle, it’s a triumph for me,” he says.
“For me, this is where meaningful thinking begins — not only in terms of government accountability for safety and fair pay, but also everyday civic sense and humanity. Proper waste sorting and ensuring workers are fairly paid are basics,” he notes. “And it does not cost much to offer a simple smile, a hello, or a thank you.”
Murukan and Sunitha become emotional as they speak about the documentary. “Watching ourselves on the screen was surreal. For the first time, we felt appreciated. When people watch this, they will understand how much hardship sanitation workers go through — how difficult our lives really are,” says Sunitha.
Murukan adds that people usually cover their noses and walk away on seeing sanitation workers clearing waste. “Even if we enter a tea shop, we are not treated with respect. In such moments, it feels as though people forget that we are human beings too,” he says.
He quickly adds that an “unforgettable moment” followed the documentary’s release. “Yesterday, while I was walking down the road wearing my uniform, a young man hugged me. He said he had watched the documentary after a friend forwarded it to him,” says Murukan. “His gesture left me misty-eyed.”