Mental Health of Labourers

According to the Economic Survey 2018-2019, almost 93% of India’s workforce is employed in the informal sector. The flower vendor on your street corner, the vegetable vendor who pushes his cart, the construction worker you see on your way to college and many other such labourers fall into the unorganised sector. We all have read and talked of the physical hardships they face, the lack of protective equipment provided, the measly wage system and the fact that they cannot afford to change their job and earn a livelihood someplace else. But what we have not considered is their mental health and well-being. After all, if the statistics provided by the National Statistical Commission is anything to go by, the informal economy contributes to about 50% of the GDP and if we are to progress as a country, the needs of these workers should also be taken care of.

Mental health has been a topic more people have started taking notice of and talking about. From the strain of long work hours to the strain of finishing your homework, the anxiety experienced by the public during the pandemic has made people realise the importance of mental well-being and the need to be positive and in a good mental space. Now, if paying a visit to the psychiatrist, is still considered something of a taboo amongst the educated folk, imagine how problems such as depression, anxiety, panic attacks, PTSD etc., are treated by the illiterate. Are they even aware such problems exist? Even if they do, can they afford to treat it? Most importantly, is the Government doing anything to assist them?

Let me present the stories of construction workers, manual scavengers and migrant workers during Covid-19.

My name is Seema and I am a construction worker. I live in a makeshift tent near the construction site with no latrine or kitchen facilities. I have a long and tiring day ahead. But I really hope I am not asked to work in the top most floors. I witnessed an accident a couple of years back and ever since I am acrophobic and experience vertigo. But that is how life is in these places.

Seema is pessimistic about life and suppresses her fears in order to earn a living. Construction workers have poor working conditions and poorer amenities. Despite the two historic legislations, The Building and Other Construction Workers Act 1996 and the Building and Other Construction Workers Cess Act 1996, which tried to transform the lives of construction workers, there is no significant improvement to their lives.

My name is Ramu. I am a manual scavenger. I live in the city of Delhi and clean sewages for a living. I hate my job. I hate the way the people on the streets look at me. I want to wipe the repugnance off their faces when they throw their money at me when I finish my job. I want to scream that I am also a human being, just like them. The only reason I do it is because, tomorrow, my children should not end up with the same job. I indulge in alcohol and marijuana to reduce my sufferings.

I have a counterpart in the village. Her name is Rani. She has been cleaning human excreta for 15 years. She was forced into the job because of her caste. The stench of the latrines suffocates her. Her wage includes one paltry roti a day. She is revolted by herself and her way of life. She trudges on only for her kids.

The physical hardships of Ramu’s and Rani’s jobs are obvious. But the continuous degradation and stigma of untouchability takes a toll on their mental health. While there are Government provisions which help them set up shops, nobody is willing to buy from them because of their previous jobs. Despite the Employment of Manual Scavengers and Construction of Dry Latrines (Prohibition) Act, 1993 and the Prohibition of Employment as Manual Scavengers and their Rehabilitation Act, 2013, manual scavenging continues to be a foul, inhuman and deeply casteist practice prevalent in several Indian states. The Socio-Economic Caste Census of 2011 counted over 1.82 lakh families that had at least one member employed in manual scavenging.

My name is Siraj and I am a migrant labourer. I face daily discrimination at work because I look different from the locals. When the Government announced the first lockdown, I was gripped by fear and insecurity. Where will I live? What will I eat? How will I provide for my family? I was roaming the streets with some other migrant workers to find some form of a job, exposing myself to the virus. A couple of my friends have committed suicide because they don’t see a way out of this. But I don’t want to give up hope. Not yet.

The issue of migrant workers has plagued the Government ever since the Partition. Data from the National Sample Survey in 2007–2008 revealed that about 28.3% of the workforces in India were migrants. If not registered, they are particularly vulnerable and excluded from welfare schemes. It is a pretty complicated issue but there has not much done from the Government’s side.

The abovementioned stories might involve fictional characters but their struggles are extremely real. When one comes to know about the ugly truth, one’s conscience is stirred and an obvious question comes to mind. What is the Government doing?

The Government passes bills but does not execute them. In fact, the source of the data quoted in this very article, which has been collected by Government organisations, is not known. When they cannot be entrusted to collect data in a reliable manner, expecting them to reform the sector is delusional.

Mental health is an extremely real problem. According to the National Crime Records Bureau, 2018, the suicide rate amongst daily wage workers is 22.4%. But in a society where people think madness is the only mental illness, it is very difficult for the problems of these labourers to be addressed. The psychology of employers, which is to undermine physical labour, discriminate against them, behave rudely and rashly when they ask for better pay is not a new issue. This mind-set has been prevalent for ages. Education is indeed important. But just because someone did not have access to it does not mean they are dirt. The issues of caste, race, gender and religion still cast their evil eye upon society. To realise that all humans are made of the same blood, bone and flesh, to treat them as equals no matter what and to realise that mental health requires care and attention are the little things we can do to make society a better place.