A migrant family in Mehdipatnam sipping their morning tea / Photograph by Meenakshi B.
Struggle and Survival: How Migrant Workers Navigate the City for a Sense of Belonging
Hyderabad is home to one of the largest migrant populations in India. The government welfare schemes are yet to reach them. Wages are low and living conditions are sub-standard, but migrant workers still have reasons to hold fast to the city.
Meenakshi B.
Migrant workers waiting for contract hirers at a labour adda / Photograph by Meenakshi B.
It is chilly. Hyderabad is waking up as the early summer heat is kicking in. The sun has risen enough to burn off the damp mist.
However, there are no signs of seasonal change in the life of the city’s migrant workers. For them, it is just another day of struggle and survival.
The hubbub in the ‘labour adda’ is audible from afar. This is where workers are hired for the day by contractors. Each labourer is excited to see a hirer walking towards them. If not hired by 10 or 10:30 AM, their wage of the day is down the drain.
Dashrath Dhakkal, 22, a seasonal migrant from Medak district of Telangana, has already given up on the tussle. He has agreed to talk over tea in a nearby stall.
“I had to fight with my family to move to Hyderabad. Finding jobs in my village is hard when the farming season ends, especially for the lower castes. Although the payment is reasonable, I miss hanging out with my friends from the village,” says Dhakkal as he takes the last sip of tea. He lives in a room shared with six others, but it never occurred to him to call them friends.
A normal morning sight at a labour adda in Lingampally / Photograph by Aditya Kaushik
Being away from home is always challenging. Apart from securing material well-being, home is where one seeks solace, cultivates bonds with others, makes a family, and brings up kids. It gives us a sense of belonging and serves as an extension of our identities. In Hyderabad, migrants toil their blood and sweat for the city’s development. But are they home?
Is Hyderabad Home?
Katravath Radhika, 23, is excited about the day as she cooks bhakri [round flatbread] for her Hyderabadi friends. She cooks for them often and feels that sharing authentic food has been one of the best ways to bond with them.
“I am the first one to get educated in my family. The facilities we live in are unimaginable in our village in Maharashtra,” she says.
As she puts it, it took 18 years for her daily wager father to call Hyderabad his home as a Maharashtrian. But for her, Hyderabad is home.
When asked about building her own family here, she paused for a moment. “If people would take a Maharashtrian girl as their daughter-in-law, then why not,” she says with an awkward smile.
The day has just started for her, and now she must rush to her skill training class with NGO United Way of Hyderabad (UWH), where she learns basic writing and learning, hoping to find work in places like supermarkets.
“In the past five years, hundreds of migrants were skill trained through various programmes throughout the city,” UWH camp coordinator Ashfaq Ahmed says.
Migrants constitute 67 per cent of Hyderabad’s population, with 7.1 per cent of those being interstate migrants, the Journal of Social and Economical Development cites. The invisible labour of migrants gets the job done and makes our lives easier. Economic opportunities are what draw workers from other states to Hyderabad. However, that is not the only reason.
For Anjaney Mogiya, an idol maker from Mewar district of Rajasthan, Hyderabad has been more like his own state. Each year he migrates to the city for about ten months (July–April) to make and sell idols.
“Since this city has a lot of people from different cultures, we get to make idols for various festivals. Unlike Delhi and other major cities, the competition among vendors is also less,” says Mongiya, who had tried his luck in several cities.
Anjaney Mongiya skillfully sculpts and paints idols during festival seasons / Photograph by Aditya Kaushik
“The amount of diversity in the place where migrants settle, the migrants’ social location in terms of race, gender, religion, and language, and the migrants’ prior interactions with varied communities as a result of migration are three elements that influence migrants’ sense of belonging. Hyderabad epitomises the symbols of cultural integrity and opportunities people seek and helps them live without compromising their authenticity,” Dr Manish Jha, a professor at TISS Mumbai who has studied migration, explains.
"Since this city has a lot of people from different cultures, we get to make idols for various festivals. Unlike Delhi and other major cities, the competition amongst vendors is also less."
Tottering Through Uncertain Times
According to a report by the Center for Migration and Labour Solutions, every year, over one lakh seasonal workers migrate to Hyderabad from Odisha.
Mainly from the Balangir district, they come to work in brick kilns. The majority of these brick kilns are allegedly unlawful. Simply put, they lack the requisite operating licences or registration for migrant employees. The 1967 Inter-State Migrant Workmen’s Act’s obligations for worker welfare aren’t followed in any way, states a report by Prayas Centre for Labour Research and Action.
Basheer Ahmed, 43, from Balangir, works in a brick kiln in Quthbullapur of Hyderabad. When asked how he works round the clock in such harsh conditions, his sunburned cheeks creaked into a worn smile.
“We play folk songs while working at the site. I do not even realise how time goes. The guaranteed money I will get by the end of the day drives me to work harder and if I manage to make good savings by the end of the week, I will treat myself with mutton biriyani from Old city”, he says.
People like Ahmed do not care about a permanent settlement due to a lack of money. They hardly access any government services or benefit from any schemes.
Migrant worker Basheer Ahmed (far left) with a friend / Photograph by Aditya Kaushik
Manvi Devi, an urban development project officer at Greater Hyderabad Municipal Corporation (GHMC), explained the limitations of the authorities about the same. “They [migrants] constantly shift locations, and we cannot make them choose shelter residences. Many are reluctant to live apart from their families, and the shelter homes given are gender specific,” she says.
Not a Voluntary Choice for Everyone
Not all migrations are willful and by choice. Hyderabad is one of the prominent locations for human trafficking under the guise of employment. Children account for the majority of the victims, some even with their family’s permission.
Talking about making the city safe for people trafficked into the city, Deputy Commissioner of Police (Crimes) Dira Kavita says, “Entities like Awara, Darpan, and Bharosa, among others, try to help these people. In January, 829 trafficked minors were rescued as part of Operation Smile from various work sites.”
Most of the saved kids are returned to their homes.
Sunita Krishnan, founder of Prajwala, an NGO that works with victims of sex trafficking, disputes the rationale behind this.
“Sending these children back is irresponsible without considering the circumstances at home. They could get trafficked to other locations again, if not to Hyderabad. It would be preferable, in my opinion, to rehabilitate them here,” she says.
Forced migration is not restricted to trafficking alone. The women in more than half of the households migrate following men’s decisions. According to reports, female migration is at its highest between the ages of 21 and 30. In addition, many young girls in the labour force travelled with their mothers while they were young.
Sense of Belonging
Migrant workers face discrimination every day.
People think of them as different, Dr Manisha Jha said. “In this country, it is unsurprising that migrant workers are treated poorly. We overlook the fact that the poor experience numerous forms of deprivation because we assume there are significant distinctions between them and us, including social, cultural, familial, and spiritual ones, in addition to material ones,” she says.
Poornima Nagaraja, psychiatrist and founder of the Dhrithi Foundation, who has closely worked with the migrants, says, “Their sense of alienation from the city comes from the lack of familiarity with the food, culture, and lack of empathy from the locals and living away from family. Otherwise, most migrants find Hyderabad far better than many other metro cities.”
Having access to public places instigates a great sense of belonging in people.
"Their sense of alienation from the city comes from the lack of familiarity with the food, culture, and lack of empathy from the locals and living away from family.''
Shanti Bhuiya, 36, from Bihar, had to bury her daughter Divya in an open field. She had died from a fever. “Eight years ago, my daughter Divya died from a simple fever. She was nine months old. Without a fixed place to stay, we had to bury her in an open field as we moved around the city,” she recollects the grim episode.
Bhuiya makes ends meet by hawking crockery on footpaths. Widowed a year ago, she has pinned all her hopes on her two sons, who are attending school.
Migrant worker Shanti Bhuiya in the green saree with her family and a friend / Photograph by Meenakshi B.
Having no access to public facilities like crematoriums and hospitals has created a sense of antipathy among migrants. The only way for them to access a toilet is to stay near a public one.
The officials are confident that they will be able to address these problems soon. The government plans to roll out a migrant workers policy to assure them numerous benefits, including accident insurance, ration cards, affordable rental house, and school admission for their children.
“The data collection process is almost over and we are striding toward the implementation. We are trying to increase their inclusivity in public places through different initiatives,” says Deputy Commissioner of Labour M. Neelamma about the initiative’s progress.
Migrant workers are looking forward to the long-due reforms.
Vaktiar Rathore got back to his toy business after learning about the government project that is underway.
“If things get better, I will be much happier staying here. It is just that sometimes I miss eating our home food. But if my living conditions get better, I can buy things from the market and tell my wife to cook for us,” he says.
Rathore looked at his 11-year-old nephew sitting nearby with hope in his eyes.
This photo essay showcases the daily lives of a few other migrants that Vantage had the opportunity to talk to / Photo Essay by Meenakshi B.
This article was published on 26 April, 2023.
Meenakshi B. is a storyteller in progress, busy documenting the anecdotes of daily lives around her and currently pursuing her Master's in Communication at the University of Hyderabad. meenakshib771@gmail.com