Water & SanitationNovember 15, 2019

Photo essay: Where there are no sewers

A window into the world of the people who clean latrines in urban India.
2019-11-26 00:00:00 India Development Review Photo essay: Where there are no sewers
5 Min read Share

Well over two billion people today lack access to basic sanitation facilities, according to the World Health Organization; about 760 million of them live in India. November 19th is World Toilet Day, the goal of which is to make the global community aware of their right to safe and dignified sanitation and to support public action and public policy to bring this right closer to those who do not enjoy it. This photo essay focuses on the back-end of the sanitation chain, on those who clean out latrines where there is no flush or sewer to carry away the waste. When this work is done without mechanical equipment and without protective clothing, scooping out faeces from ‘dry’ latrines and overflowing pits, it is called “manual scavenging”.

It’s an ancient profession and India, which made the practice illegal in 1993, still has over one million such cleaners (the exact number is unknown, and declining). They service low-income urban households and railway tracks and army barracks; they come from the lowest strata of the Hindu caste system and about 90 percent of them are women. Despite valiant civil society (and several governments) efforts to train them for other professions, breaking out of this denigrated caste-based profession remains very difficult. Many mehters live in the shadows of society, invisible yet reviled, taunted yet essential, trapped in an unconstitutional practice without viable alternatives.

men walking on road

The toilet cleaners of Lucknow | Photo courtesy: CS Sharada Prasad

Related article: Building long-term sanitation solutions

In a real sense, 70 years after Indian independence, this is a community still waiting for its freedom. In this photo-essay, we explore the daily lives of the toilet-cleaners: their homes, their hopes, their work, and their determination to get their children out of it. If World Toilet Day is about expanding access to clean toilets, it must also be about those who have to clean the toilets.

It’s December and we’re in Lucknow. Old Lucknow is a city of medieval architecture and narrow alleys. The alleys are crowded, with gutters on either side that drain away anything that flows-rainwater, bath water, kitchen waste, human excreta. The streets have no sidewalks. On this cold winter morning, most people are indoors, but those who pass Rajan either don’t see him or they say nothing. He’s cleaning out a household toilet in broad daylight, his socks and flipflops protecting his feet from the cold and the muck.

man cleaning waste

The excreta is loose, so it takes several attempts to clean it all out. When he’s scooped everything into his bucket, he carries it down the alley, and tips the waste into the gutters on the side. The yellowish sludge dissolves into the watery blackness.

man carrying buckets of waste in an alley

Rajan is from the Valmiki caste; he’s from a family of scavengers and he inherited his job when he was just 14 years old. He lives with his wife and sons in a two-room house, with a small main room leading to an even smaller kitchen. The house is right next to an open drain, but it is spotless inside.

doorstep saying welcome

family of manual scavengers

With young children to manage, the mother of the boys works as a part-time domestic help in nearby houses. She goes into her immaculately-maintained kitchen and starts making tea for her guests. She pours the milky tea into three tiny steel glasses; Rajan looks at the number of glasses and says that he doesn’t want any.

woman in house kitchen

Rajan doesn’t want his boys to inherit the family job. Except for the little one, they all go to school. The second one is especially bright and plans to be a bike mechanic, he says.

young boy smiling

bags lined up on wall

This is a community that will do just about anything to make sure their children get educated. Kishen and Meena, like Rajan, have pinned all their hopes on education for their children. They both clean toilets. Their house is just a room, 15 feet by 10 feet. At one corner, there’s a small kitchen-like setup. The house is lit by a single lightbulb, but the toilet is a porcelain pour-flush one, clean and dry.

Related article: Photo essay: How sanitation workers live and work in urban India

indian toilet in ground with bucket

Their problem is TV, they say; no one touches his homework when the Hindi soap operas come on. No one even moves. “These children think that education is free. Education is free only in government schools. But our children: I save up every month to send both my children to private schools.” Meena is proud and worried all at once. The children go to a Christian school, 3 kilometres away from home. “Better to send the children to a school a bit far away from where we work. If other children get to know the child’s caste or the parents’ occupation, they bully our children.” A rickshaw comes for them, she says, they don’t have to walk.

mother smiling and holding child

This evening, Kishen and Meena are back from a full day of work. They wash, then settle down to their dinner-roti and dal. “You know, when you start doing this work, it is hard to eat dal for a couple of months,” Kishen says. “Anything yellow makes you sick.”

man sitting and eating on the ground

Meena moves closer to the fire and suggests some chai; she hasn’t had any all day. It’s not that there’s no time: But “we don’t eat or drink until we’ve washed ourselves. Cleaning the shit of these people is bad enough. I don’t want to put that in my mouth.”

woman sitting on the ground and laughing

The next morning, just after 7am, we go out with Vasumati. Her husband doesn’t want her to do this work. “But we have two children and we need money for their school, for their shoes,” he says. “We could start a business with the money the government will lend us. But we don’t really know how to manage a business.” He’s afraid the business will fail and the family will lose their home. How about a small business that does not need a big investment? A corner shop or a tea stall? “A tea stall is a great idea. People drink a lot of tea in Lucknow. But if they get to know our caste, we’ll run into problems.”

There’s no easy escape out of this job, they all know that.

woman sitting on ground

small bucket hanging on wall

worship area in home

Vasumati takes us to her storage spot. A broom, a bucket, a U-shaped scooper, and a bamboo basket are stacked on top of one another. They are covered in dust and ash; it’s easier to empty the bucket with the ash layer because the content doesn’t stick to it. Vasumati covers her head and hair with her scarf. She covers her nose.

Related article: Sanitation efforts must focus on quality, equity, and social inclusion

cleaning equipment

Her first stop is a house that we don’t even have to enter. There’s a hole covered with a metal sheet about three feet away from the entrance. She slides open the door and squats in front of the opening.

woman manually cleaning latrine

Vasumati cleans a household latrine | Photo courtesy: CS Sharada Prasad

How much do the households pay? We ask, as Vasumati scoops the excreta into her bucket. “Rs. 50 ($0.75) per person per month. Children who have not reached puberty and people over 60 years are not counted… Who can argue with them? These rules have been around for a long time.” She moves carefully, avoiding the water she is flushing into the gutter, then she straightens up.

She has to get going. She has 32 more toilets to clean today.

woman carrying buckets in alley

All pictures courtesy: C S Sharada Prasad. To view and download more images of different resolutions related to these stories, please visit Sharada’s Flickr album.

This photo essay was originally published on India Water Portal

We want IDR to be as much yours as it is ours. Tell us what you want to read. writetous@idronline.org

Comments

We hope the conversations that take place on idronline.org will be energetic, constructive, and thought-provoking. To ensure the quality of the discussion, our moderating team will review all comments and may edit them for clarity, length, and relevance. Comments that are overly promotional, mean-spirited, or off-topic may be deleted per the moderators' judgment. All posts become the property of India Development Review.
Get smart.
Sign up for our free weekly newsletter, IDR Edit.
Follow us
Get smart. Sign up for our free weekly newsletter, IDR Edit.

IDR is India’s first independent media platform for the development community.

We publish cutting edge ideas, lessons and insights, written by and for the people working on some of India’s toughest problems. Our job is to make things simple and relevant, so you can do more of what you do, better.

IDR is produced in partnership with Ashoka University’s Centre for Social Impact and Philanthropy.

Privacy Policy | Terms of Use | Contact
© 2020 India Development Review    
India Development Review is published by the Forum for Knowledge and Social Impact, a not-for-profit company registered under Section 8 of the Company Act, 2013.
CIN: U93090MH2017NPL296634