A PERILOUS EXISTENCE

The idea of flying by a sea plane was very exciting. I had never been on one before. Among the pre-requisites for the flight was advance information on our body weight. ‘Eighty five’, I said very reluctantly. Any discussion on weight does not make for pleasant recollections, at least for me and about myself !

It was early morning in July 2013. A team of four which included me made our way to the Dhaka airport and at the assigned time, we were asked to proceed for boarding. Excitement mounted. Walking across the tarmac, we could see the sea plane on the far side. A tall, lanky American pilot and his young Bangladeshi co-pilot greeted us as we got into the 8-seater plane. And because we had no other passengers, it felt just like a chartered flight – a real privilege ! After a quick briefing on safety and security, we were ready for take-off. The sea plane was operated by an NGO supported by various international organisations. Given the frequency with which disasters strike Bangladesh, this was a vital and reliable link to get relief supplies to far flung areas cut off due to disasters like floods and cyclones.

After a short taxiing, the plane took off. The weather was just perfect – crisp, warm, a slight breeze and just a few light clouds. The view was amazing. As we fly over the Dhaka airspace and over the country side, the views were just gorgeously green and fresh, thanks to the rains that had lashed the country a few days earlier. The flight was meant to take about an hour. And in this little plane with the lovely views, one wanted it to extend way beyond that. We were flying to the Koyra sub-district in Khulna, in the south-western part of Bangladesh. The area had previously been hit by Cyclone Aila in 2009 and it was not the first time it had been hit by a cyclone. This area was disaster prone with floods and cyclones becoming a regular feature. Often, it led to water logging over extended periods of time. From up in the sky, our destination was clearly in sight, but what we could see was mostly water logged areas, with clumps of land which looked lush green and tiny habitations clustered densely on the patches of land. It was just water and more water everywhere. And that is why we needed to come by the sea plane, for it could land on water.

As we started our descent, the country side came in clear view. Boats ferried across the water bodies – one couldn’t say if they were rivers, streams, lakes, ponds or just water trapped because it could not go anywhere. Soon, houses were visible, tiny figures of people moving around, some cattle here, a few vehicles there. In a couple of minutes, we would touch down, on water and soon, we could see groups of people lined up along the shore. The sight of the sea plane landing would always evoke curiosity as one can imagine. Eager children and adults, all lined up just to watch the landing. With a huge swishing sound and a lusty spray of water, the sea plane docked itself on the water, like a boat, rocking gently with the waves caused due to its landing. And soon, we saw a motor boat come towards it to ferry us to the nearest village, a ride of about 200 meters.

Landing in such an exceptional way and in a geography that one had only heard of, itself, gave us an insight of what life might be. It was a dry day, but it had rained earlier. Everywhere, there was water – large water bodies. The habitations were perilously close to the water. One could see that a moderate rainfall was enough to cause flooding.

“So what is it like to live here, and how did you face the cyclone when it hit”, we asked a group of women. They pointed out to a temple which was built on a high platform, and to a toilet that too was on a raised platform. “Those were the only two structures that were not flooded. All the other structures, and this house where you are sitting, were completely flooded. We could just see roof tops in most cases, and the trees. Everything was under water”, one of the women said.

“We lost a lot of cattle, cows and goats. Some chicken perished. Some of our children were washed away in the tidal waves that gushed in. We didn’t have much time, much of a warning and even if we did, there was very little we could do to save ourselves”, said another. The memories of that fateful day, four years ago, were still fresh in their minds.

“It was night. I was sleeping on the cot. When I woke up in the morning, I felt my hair. It was wet. I wondered if water had leaked through the roof. That is quite common during the rains. When I looked around me, I was aghast and sprung out of my bed with a start. The whole room was flooded. And I had stepped into 3 feet of water. My first thought was – where are my children. Fortunately, they were safe on another cot. I woke them up and my husband too and we rushed out of the house with them in knee deep water. But when we came out, what we saw was absolutely frightening. The entire village was under water and like us, people had just woken up to this horror and trying to find out what they had lost and what they could salvage”, another woman said.

“You people live in the developed countries. Why don’t you tell your governments that they must do something ? We are told that all this because of climate change and that climate change is because the developed countries have caused the environment to change. We never experienced disasters so frequently in the past, but this is now a regular occurrence. Your governments must do something about it and must compensate”, another lady said. Not with anger, but with conviction.

There was more for us to see. The tidal waves had made their fresh water sources totally undrinkable. The water had turned saline. That affected some fish varieties that thrived in fresh water. Fortunately, a local NGO and WaterAid had worked together to make the water fit for human consumption.

The waters that surged inland caused immense devastation for over a year, before much of it receded. But it left behind a trail of destruction - to their agriculture and livelihoods. To make matters worse, many businessmen from the nearby city of Khulna moved in to convert some of the arable land into shrimp farms, which further polluted the waters and rendered the land unfit for cultivation.

With their livelihoods threatened or destroyed, many of them moved to cities like Khulna. We met some of them settled in an informal settlement, a slum, with no basic services. Living in a city which tended to be more alien and hostile was hard in itself, but to make a living in a city was even more difficult. They had to find work in a range of unskilled, low paid physical labour to keep them going.

But as in the case of many such communities around the world, they discovered their resilience and are trying to cope. They have formed disaster management committees at the local levels, which can interact with the local authorities at the district level, to be better warned and better prepared. They are trying to adapt construction of their houses, toilets and water points in a manner that can withstand normal flooding. They are trying to identify technologies that can be effective in the face of such disasters. There is a lot more that needs to be done, but one thing was sure – they were not just sitting back and waiting for help. They had decided to take control and identify solutions ! 

ASPIRATIONS

“We want to develop this into a bustling town – and that is why, we have constructed the district offices a little away from where this town is actually located”, said Moses, a senior district official of Napak district. He was very sincere, and there was ambition in what he said. Even if it was difficult to fully be convinced about it – a glance out of the several windows in his office did not give a clue on how this wide, open space, beautiful as it was with some trees and open grazing land, could ever be transformed to a bustling town. 

Napak has population of 200,000 and is located in the north-eastern region of Uganda called Karamoja. The people of Karamoja faced several challenges – conflict, disease, flooding and poverty being some of them. One did wonder what would be the economic base around which a bustling town could develop. But the intention was very clear.

In a way, Moses was just reflecting a growing aspiration that is so evident in Uganda. This country with a population of 34 million and known as the ‘Pearl of Africa’ for its beauty, aspires to be a middle income country over the next decade or two. While it is predominantly agricultural, very poor and near the bottom on the Human Development Index, the newly found oil and gas is providing immense hope to this landlocked country, and combined with relative peace and political stability, the hope is very alive and real. It was thus interesting to also hear the Executive Director of the recently established Kampala City Corporation Authority (KCCA), a body that brings together various authorities, departments and organisations responsible for Kampala’s development, talk about building a Kampala ‘that every Ugandan can be proud of’.

Meeting the local community in some of the informal settlements in Kampala, there was a different kind of hope and aspiration. May and Care are two such community leaders who have grown up and live in the local community. Articulate and passionate, they dream of a better tomorrow. “We now know our rights”, said May. “The threat of eviction from our houses is still very real, but we know how to negotiate. We cannot just be taken for granted”, she said. “We are at war with our local community to get them to address internal challenges instead of waiting for others to come and solve our problems”, said Care. “We want to make sure that our surroundings are clean and our children are educated. We want the local community to engage with the municipality so that our issues can be addressed”.

But the most heartening cause for optimism came from a group of women, all of whom were HIV positive, who had come together as a mutual support and solidarity group. Initially, their focus was on HIV/AIDS, on improved awareness, education and treatment. But gradually, they realised their strength in just being together and providing peer support and counselling. They started working with a local NGO on housing issues and soon, started addressing issues of water and sanitation. Many of them also made a range of lovely handcrafted products which they sold in the local market, right outside the room where we met them. Oh yes, we had to make a mandatory visit to the market and yes, we did spend quite an amount during our impromptu shopping.

“We now have a bigger vision”, one of the women said. “Because we know our rights, we can talk, we can negotiate, and we are free”.

Well, if a nation is built on the aspirations and hopes of people, then surely Uganda is on the right track. We also had the opportunity of meeting the Prime Minister in his office together with a number of ministers and other senior government officials. Clearly, Uganda was open for and ready for business and one does hope that the Pearl of Africa can truly become a thriving and prosperous country ! 

A TRUE INSPIRATION

With a charming smile, she made her way into one of the large meeting rooms in this imposing hotel in Kathmandu. She was one of the thousands of delegates for the South Asian Conference on Sanitation (SACOSAN) being organised by the governments of South Asian countries. In 2013, it was the turn of Nepal to play the host. And the grand hotel in Kathmandu seemed to be just the right venue – centrally located, extremely well equipped and with the capacity to hold thousands of delegates across several of its large meeting rooms. Protocols also had to be observed as many top ranking politicians from Afghanistan, Pakistan, Maldives, India, Bhutan, Bangladesh and Nepal would be attending, together with an entourage of officials. Also in attendance were several representatives of international organisation, NGOs and the private sector.

But as she made her way through the busy corridors, she had to stop several times, at several places. She was obviously quite well known and so people wanted to stop to have a chat with her, shake her hand, exchange visiting cards. And she did so with amazing patience, grace and charm – and inspite of her youth, there was a certain maturity and gravitas about her that one could notice very quickly. But, as I said, she stopped many times on her way to one of the meeting halls, where she was either a panellist, making a presentation, or in the audience listening keenly to the presentations and making it a point to ask a question – so that she could make a point.

So what was it that made her special ? She was Amrita Gyawali, an activist and a crusader for rights of people who are disabled. She herself was severely disabled and a wheelchair user. But that, in her view, was just a fact of life. She was on a mission – to ensure that people with disabilities have adequate and appropriate access to water, sanitation and hygiene services.

It was during one such panel discussion that I happened to listen to her speak. She was perhaps the last speaker on the panel. There was a very articulate and slick presentation by a lady representing a Geneva based organisation. There was an academic presenting his experiences from Pakistan. There was a community leader from India talking about his campaign on behalf of people living in the slums. And then it was Amrita’s turn to speak.

“I am here to speak on behalf of people with disabilities like myself”, she said, softly, yet firmly. “It is sometimes difficult to understand why our needs are not  understood. And it is not just about public places and public facilities. Even in this hotel, which is a 5-star hotel and caters to the needs of the elite and the well-off tourists, I had trouble getting in. I had to be physically carried up the short flight of stairs in my wheelchairs by some men for me to come here and talk to you today”, she said. As she looked around, there was total silence. Silence as people tried to absorb what it meant or a silence of embarrassment.

“But this is quite common, so it does not come as a total surprise. And as someone who has been disabled from a very young age, I have come to live with it, but we cannot accept this anymore. I have suffered and faced severe disadvantages at every stage in my life, at every place I have visited. As a child in school, I struggled because it was difficult for me to get into the toilet without being assisted. At times, I had to face the immense embarrassment of having to relieve myself while I am in my class, much to the disgust of other pupils. And can you even think of what my situation would have been when I became an adolescent girl and started menstruating”, she continued. Her voice was calm. There was no anger in her voice, which seemed very strange for someone who had faced so many challenges in her young life. But, there was firmness. Firmness to state her issues as they were – stark and real. Firmness in being determined to make a point and make people think differently.

“The situation was the same when I pursued higher education. There were toilets for girls, but that was a distance, away from the building and not accessible. My classroom was not always on the ground floor, and even if it was on the ground floor, there were no ramps, so it was always a challenge to get into the building and into the classroom. I always had to depend on the mercy of my friends, who were very supportive. But my independence was affected. I did not even have the most basic freedom to move around, attend classes or use the toilet without being dependent on someone all the time”.

“And for those of you who are from Kathmandu, do you realise that in this big city, we have 61 public toilets, but none of them are accessible to people like myself ? So if we were to go out to do a bit of shopping or for leisure, how do you expect us to relieve ourselves ? Even many of the restaurants and cinemas do not have accessible toilets. Don’t we exist ? Don’t we too have some basic needs that any human being has”? she asked. Again, there was no anger. Just stating of facts. Just that same firmness and determination. This was such a great opportunity for her to advocate, to lobby, and she was not going to let that go. Here she was, young and articulate, and here she was on a mission – to make a difference to the lives of people with disabilities around the world, in enabling them access some of the most basic facilities and most basic rights – that of water, sanitation and hygiene, and thus enable them to lead a life of dignity.

A thunderous applause followed her presentation. Many people were on their feet to applaud. Many were moved to tears. And she made her way out of the hall, she was greeted by many. Journalists were lining up to interview her. She met everybody with her trademark smile and her charm. She did not hold any grudges against anyone. She was just making a point, a simple point.

Later, I learnt a bit more about her personal story. Her family met with a serious accident when they were travelling in Nepal. All of them perished, but little Amrita, who was only 3 then, survived, but with severe disabilities. She had been physically immobile since then. She was taken to the SOS Children’s Village where she grew up and in their care, she blossomed into a bright young girl with ambitions, and more importantly, a desire to be independent. With the help of some friends, she tried her hand at various jobs.

At some point, she got in touch with WaterAid Nepal, who were very keen to mainstream disability in all their programmes and advocacy work. That was something that resonated with Amrita, and soon, she started working with our Kathmandu based team as a consultant. But, she still had an issue of accessing the toilet. That spurred our team to convert a toilet on the ground floor to being disabled friendly – that in itself was educational for the team. Her work space was also adapted such that she could work comfortably using the desk space.

But Amrita’s campaign is far from over. She is always on the forefront when advocating for rights of people with disability for better living and a life of dignity. And her style remains the same – calm, firm and charming ! 

WHITHER THY RELIGION

People in most parts of Africa (as is the case in most parts of Asia too – bar a couple of countries I think) tend to be very religious. Malawi is no different.  A largely Christian population, people tend to be very devout. Sundays are normally reserved for attending church and various social activities related to the church and the local community.

It was thus with some consternation that the local parish in a neighbourhood of the capital city Lilongwe noticed the dwindling numbers in the church. This was a decade ago. Women seemed to absent themselves more than men. This was something that they wanted to look into. This was definitely not a good sign. Were people getting disenchanted with their religion ? Were people turning away from their own chosen religion to another one, another congregation, another faith ? Or, was something seriously wrong.

The nuns decided to go around the local community and investigate. It did not take long to find out what the root cause was – it was lack of water. And the ‘culprit’ in this case was the local water utility. Water connections had been disconnected. This meant that women had to travel longer to fetch water and this was increasingly getting more difficult. With water not being of good quality, it meant that people were falling ill. A combination of these factors resulted in less people turning up for prayers at the local church. The cause had been identified, now a solution had to be found.

The nuns knew of a local NGO working in the neighbourhood. They decided to approach them who, in turn, approached WaterAid’s office in Lilongwe as the root cause of this problem was lack of good quality water supplies. But first, the reason behind the utility disconnecting the water supplies had to be established. The story that was revealed was quite an interesting one, though not entirely surprising.

The local community who belonged to the poorer sections did get water connections from the local utility. A water rate was also fixed. Households had to pay cash to local contractors who would then collect and remit it to the utility based on consumption. This went on for sometime. The local contractors were appointed by the utility. They were not from the local community or known to them. What they did not realise was that the amount paid by them were not remitted to the utility. The contractors pocketed the money and at one point, just disappeared from the scene.

What the local community then faced was a double whammy – lost cash and lost connections. They tried reasoning with the local utility that it was not their fault, but the local utility would not take any responsibility. For them, the local community was a defaulter and as per their norms, they could no longer avail the services of a water connection.

Unravelling of this story then led to various discussions with the local community and the utility. A way forward had to be identified. Negotiations finally started bearing fruit. The utility agreed to restore the water connections if the outstanding amounts could be paid by the local community. This was difficult for the local community, but not impossible. They asked the utility if the payments on which they had apparently defaulted, could be paid over an extended period of time. A formula was then worked out. The local community would pay the water charges as per current agreed rates for consumers but would also pay a little extra. That additional amount would go towards paying off the earlier dues.

On the face of it, it appeared to be unfair. The poor community had to pay the same amount twice, just because they were cheated by the contractors who actually collected water charges but did not remit. But they were also practical. Paying off the past dues through a slightly enhanced payment system would mean that they could immediately get their water connections restored. These connections were more reliable and the water was of much better quality. In absence of these connections, they had to fetch poor quality water from longer distances resulting in lost productive hours and illness. The water also was more expensive. The unregulated private water vendors used to charge them 5-10 times more for this water. So, in principle, the higher water rate was perfectly fine.

But, something had to be in place before this arrangement would be operational. The local community wanted to appoint their own ‘kiosk managers’. These would be people responsible for operating the water kiosks (a common place where the water utility would provide a communal service and from where people could collect their water and pay the charges). The kiosk managers would be from the local community and hence accountable to them. They would be supervised by a local management group.

The utility also agreed to set up a Kiosk Management Unit. This unit (initially supported by WaterAid), would be the ‘social arm’ of the unit and be responsible for managing the relationship between the local communities and the utility. This was considered very important as it was about trust and confidence building, but it was also about making sure that the utility would look at the poorer sections of society as their clients and be accountable to providing quality service to them.

I visited Lilongwe for the first time in 2006 when I heard about this. During my visit to the local community, they told me about the progress they were making in collecting the charges including the previous ones. The utility’s kiosk management unit was also functional. The consumer now had strong links with the service providers. There was greater confidence and trust. Since then, I have been informed that the past dues have been paid off in full. The kiosk managers are also running their small enterprises around the kiosks and thus making an additional income.

I have not yet checked if the church attendance is back to past levels, or indeed growing. Perhaps they are. Perhaps, with a bit more time and much improved health, people have more time for pursuing their religious interests. Perhaps God too is happy. Didn’t someone say, ‘Cleanliness is more important than godliness’ ?

A REASON FOR HOPE

The drive to Alere village in Kuji sub-county of Amuria district was a pleasant one. Drives through the countryside are often pleasing for the eye. The area had received some good rainfall in the preceding weeks and the lush greenery was evidence of that. But the beauty of the terrain hid an acute form of harshness that became evident once we started speaking to some of the people.

It was May 2010. For miles on end, there seemed to be no habitation. An odd bicyclist, a small group of kids herding cattle, a group of women going to or coming back from their market place with little kids tied securely to their backs or carrying small loads on their heads was all that we could see. The road was basically a mud track.

As we reached Alere, the atmosphere was a festive one. There were festoons and flowers. Our arrival was treated by some enthusiastic ululating, applause and of course some thumping music and robust dancing. One could be forgiven for believing that it was indeed a festival – except that it was not. It was just because a new borehole with a handpump was being commissioned, bringing an end to the travails faced particularly by women and children in accessing water. I have often seen the elation when a facility as basic as water is made available, I do believe in its transformational value, but one can still sometimes not fathom how critical, life saving or life changing it can be !

After the rituals, it was time to have a few conversations. Almost all the people from the 200 odd households had assembled and seated themselves comfortably under the generous shade of the mango trees, laden with fruits. The storyline was fairly familiar – earlier, the only source of water was a small stream at a distance, women and girls had to regularly spend lot of time in collecting the water which often was not of good quality, cases of cholera and diarrhoea were high and sometimes, they were bitten by snakes or other insects as they went looking for water in the streams. But, there was much more.

This district was in proximity to the Karamoja region which had witnessed a long period of instability and conflict. This was the area where the notorious Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) was operating. There were many cases of violence perpetrated by the LRA, but more worrying was that of children, particularly boys being abducted and trained to be child soldiers, ruining permanently their childhood and their innocence. The conflict brought in the military sent by the government to maintain peace, and there were often pitched battles between the LRA and the military. And the poor community got caught in the crossfire, with the LRA suspecting them to be sympathetic to the military, while the military suspecting them to protect LRA members. Either way, they had no choice, caught between the devil and the deep sea.

The Karamoja region is also home to a community known as cattle rustlers. They fundamentally believe that all cattle (cows in particular) anywhere in the world, belong to them. Their affinity to cattle often brought them in sharp conflict with other settlers, especially farmers. These cattle rustlers would come in hordes and forcibly take the cattle away. Cattle is valued in the area as they provide the most inflation busting insurance, an asset that is liquid only next to cash, and this was something very important for the impoverished community. But often, they had their cattle taken away by force – the ensuing violence in case of any resistance had also caused fatalities.

HIV/AIDS was a major scourge. It was quite widespread in the region. Worse still, because of the relative inaccessibility of villages and issues of conflict,  and of course government apathy and lack of resources, not much was forthcoming in terms of services or awareness. It was quite heart wrenching to see a frail elderly woman being the sole carer of six young children, since their parents had both died of HIV/AIDS. It was almost impossible for her or her grandchildren to work and fend for themselves, and they had to largely rely on the generosity of their (already impoverished) neighbours to bail them out. A small patch of a kitchen garden with some vegetables was probably the only ‘sustainable’ source of food for this family. Looking at the children, one wondered how long they would survive, for they looked extremely malnourished – and one would never know if they had been affected by the deadly virus !

And then, to make matters even more difficult was that this area was prone to flooding. A heavy downpour in the catchment areas meant that this community would be flooded. This was a rather regular occurrence during the monsoon season, thus further marginalising them.

The newly installed and inaugurated hand pump had thus to be seen in this context. A community that had almost given up any hope of anything that would be positive or transformational in their lives, had now reason to be optimistic and aspire for a brighter future. A young girl said that she aspired to be a teacher. Many adults nodded in agreement, saying that while their lives had been spent in despair, they had hopes for their children. Women said that precious time and immense toil could be saved with water almost at their doorstep. A lot of money (which was scarce anyway) could be saved for not having to pay for medicines. Children would be much less vulnerable to disease and death. But there was also reason for some mirth. A young man, thanking us for supporting the community with the hand pump said that his wife looked more beautiful now as she could bathe regularly, and that she also smelled good as she was using soap as well ! 

A LIBERATING EXPERIENCE !

The November morning air was crisp and dry. It was well past 10 a.m. and the roads of Ouagadougou, the capital of the West African country of Burkina Faso were busy. A recent economic spurt and the relocation of several international operations from neighbouring country Cote d’ Ivoire because of conflict there had meant that Ouaga was much more happening city – it anyway had a reputation of being boisterous, and I remember lying awake all night in my hotel room because of the loud music blaring from the night club just across the road which was busy till the wee hours of the morning.

But this morning of 2011 was going to be a very different experience. We were making our way to the main prison in the country, right in the heart of the city, where we were to launch a ‘WASH in Prisons’ initiative (WASH stands for Water, Sanitation and Hygiene), in collaboration with the Ministry of Justice. As we were driven in to the premises of the prison, we could see the dilapidated prison building, which even from a distance appeared to be in need of some urgent upkeep.

This was a prison meant to lodge 400 prisoners, but currently was bursting at its seams with an occupancy of 1,600 prisoners. There were separate sections for men, women and children and a separate section for prisoners charged with very serious crimes such as murder and rape. Our focus was on the sections meant for those charged with relatively minor offences such as theft. Of the 1,600 prisoners, 25 were women and 39 were boys in the 14-17 age group.

All the male prisoners were out in the open but confined to a compound within which there were bathing, washing and cooking facilities – very basic though. We were thus allowed to take a look at their rooms. Each room measured about 12 feet by 10 feet, and each room housed 6 – 10 men. At the corner of each room was a very basic toilet, probably measuring 3 feet by 3 feet, and most of them had just a curtain in place of a door. Lack of running water and blocked drains meant that the toilets were very dirty and the stench was unbearable even for the few minutes we spent there ! This was pretty much the condition of all the rooms we visited on all the three floors of the building meant for the men. The situation outside was terrible – with most of the sewer drains broken and in a state of complete disrepair, teeming with mosquitoes !

The female ward was much better and quite clean, probably because there were only 25 inmates, or probably because the women chose to keep it clean. Unlike the men who were busy bathing or doing odd errands in the public space, most of the women were in their rooms which were more like dormitories and were busy with cooking, cleaning, making bags or busy with their embroidery or tailoring.

The last section was meant for the children – and this was the most moving bit. These were children, just as old as mine, who probably had indulged in petty crimes either because of poverty or because of being misguided.  Their rooms were like dormitories as well, about a dozen boys in each, with some very basic bathroom and toilet facilities. The rooms were empty. All the boys were being taught by a local teacher in a classroom in the same section. As we walked into the classroom, they all stood up, respectfully and sat down only when the teacher asked them to. They could have been just like any other children of that age and at that time, in a regular school. But here they were, in the confines of a prison !

A discussion with our colleagues and the prison officials revealed that most of them were indeed quite poor and came from families who led difficult lives. They did not have the wherewithal to afford expensive lawyers to bail them out and they would probably be confined to this existence for several years.

What happened later was much more uplifting. The reason why we had launched this initiative was because the prison authorities were keen to spread hygiene awareness among them, so that they would be less prone to illness. They were hoping to raise resources from the government to get better and more toilets. But as part of this initiative, the prisoners were to be trained in latrine construction, so that these basic skills could come in handy on their release when they got back to their communities, and the more skilful and enterprising among them could also become masons.

The launch of the initiative was quite a fun filled event. There was a local comedian, a popular one, fluent in French and English, who was the master of ceremonies, who through his hilarious compering, drove home some serious messages on sanitation and hygiene. There were skits and role plays by the prisoners, including the children. There was a general sense of them wanting to do something to improve their lives and inject that bit of awareness and dignity in their drab lives within the prison. And there was hope – that the messages and skills they learnt here would be put to good use by them while they served their prison sentences and when they went back to their communities ! 

WHERE ARE THEY ?

It was a hot May afternoon in 2013. Returning to Hyderabad after several years, I could sense how this city had grown immensely, just going by the heavy traffic and the general buzz around the city – a city that had prospered in the modern era thanks to the IT boom. Cyberabad was an alternate name to the city.

But the main arterial roads do not tell the full story – and that is what we got to know from Chandbhai, one of the volunteers of Basti Vikas Manch, a local community forum of people (loosely translated as Neighbourhood Development Forum) living in low income settlements or basti of Bhokalpur. Their origins had an interesting yet tragic beginning.

The local community, who were supplied water through a network of pipes by their local utility were rudely awakened when contaminated water killed 30 people in a matter of few days in 2009. Till then, people were largely concerned about getting just about enough water in their locality. Little did they realise that this very water could one day be the cause of a major tragedy. The reason was that there was a sewer pipe that was running just above the water pipe, and leaks in both these pipes resulted in the water being contaminated.

30 deaths in a matter of a few days was indeed shocking, but the apathy of those responsible was even more so. When the local community members went to complain, they found that neither the officers of the utility nor their local elected representatives in the municipality were available. In a desperate act, they lodged a ‘missing report’ with the local police station, expressing concern for their officers and corporators who had gone ‘missing’. Thanks to some sympathetic journalists, they were also able to get media attention to a tragedy that could otherwise have gone unnoticed.

This terrible experience resulted in several positive benefits. Firstly, the local community decided that they had to be organised and that they could not simply rely on their elected representatives who had other vested interests. Basti Vikas Manch was a result of that realisation. A community that had a significant representation of both Hindus and Muslims and in a context that could potentially be sensitive and vulnerable to communal violence, it was important that local interests were way above narrow religious ones.

Secondly, the importance of safe water became very apparent. Water quality monitoring became important. They set up local labs with basic equipment to ensure regular testing of water quality. With a strong community forum, water supply was being monitored, but water quality monitoring was also given equal importance.

Thirdly, the community also realised the importance of proper sanitation facilities. Now this was a major challenge given the congested settlement. During my visit, they shared a new problem – a public toilet was demolished as those living near the toilet complained about stench. And while the men have an alternative of using the toilets of a mosque nearby, for the women, there was a serious concern about lack of facilities.

Things have now significantly improved, thanks largely to the dedicated work of the volunteers, cutting across social and economic groups in the community to ensure that people have access to water. Sanitation as a challenge is being addressed. But more importantly, their voice and organisation has been recognised by the local utility, who now urge them to come to them directly with their complaints before reporting it to the local media, a tactic they had used effectively in the past. It is not surprising therefore that the level of responsiveness of the service providers has significantly increased !