Gumpanpalle, Nagarkurnool (Telangana): For three years, Dasari Veeraiah and his wife Jyothi worked daily without pay. The couple subsisted at their employer’s behest and helplessly watched two of their children die as they were unable to pay for their treatment, Veeraiah said.
The couple’s roughly three-year ordeal ending in November last year was the price they paid for a Rs 15,000 debt incurred by a relative, Veeraiah added. He and his wife hail from the ‘particularly vulnerable’ Chenchu tribal community.
What they were allegedly made to endure counts as bonded labour, which is acknowledged as a form of slavery. Their employer’s son has denied this allegation.
Veeraiah alleged that their employer Chandya Naik Mudavath, who belongs to the Lambada tribal community, did not provide them with many basic necessities or even give them money when two of their three young daughters, aged three months old and two years old, fell ill with fever and jaundice, respectively.
“You need money to take them to the hospital, and when we asked him [Mudavath] to give us some [money], he wouldn’t. He’d keep saying ‘we’ll go to the doctor tomorrow’ but never took us,” Veeraiah said. He said that the couple buried their daughters in the forest near the farm they worked in.
Crucially, he said the Rs 15,000 debt they worked to extinguish at Mudavath’s farm was incurred by a relative of his who worked alongside him and Jyothi for a farmer in a nearby village.
Mudavath’s son Thulasiram, however, denied that his family members forced Veeraiah or Jyothi to work in their farm.
‘He would beat me with slippers’
Veeraiah alleged that while Mudavath allowed them to collect the ration rice they were entitled to, he didn’t give the couple any money to buy vegetables, and that they had to make do with just the vegetables that he provided them as well as any offal he would give them.
He also only owned just one set of clothes during his time working at Mudavath’s farm, Veeraiah said.
“If I objected to anything, he would beat me,” Veeraiah added.
According to Veeraiah, Jyothi’s parents preceded them in working at Mudavath’s farm in similar conditions and her father had died while working there soon after Veeraiah and Jyothi arrived about three years ago. The Wire could not confirm this.
Veeraiah said that Mudavath took him and Jyothi to his farm saying that he had paid Rs 15,000 to the farmer who previously employed them and to whom the couple’s relative owed the same amount in debt. Veeraiah said that he was made to understand that he was almost singularly responsible for paying the debt off.
Veeraiah’s father’s home in Gumpanpalle village. Photo: Anirudh S.K./The Wire.
At Mudavath’s farm, Veeraiah said he herded livestock and sprayed pesticide on crops while Jyothi said she picked cotton and removed weeds. “There was no power connection in the hut,” Veeraiah said, adding that it was “just big enough for a person to lie down in”.
He later clarified they weren’t given much of an opportunity to rest in any case.
“If I tried to nap when I was tired from working, he would stop me, saying ‘Get up! Does anyone rest for this long?’ … That work was horrible … And we never had the opportunity to take a day or two off to rest.”
“He would drink, and when he would be intoxicated, he often beat me with his slippers,” Veeraiah added.
Veeraiah underlined that their condition was that of near-complete captivity. He recalled leaving the farm about five or six times a year for festivals or to meet relatives, and that each visit did not last for more than a few hours.
Three-year bondage for Rs 15,000 debt ‘egregious’, says NGO
“When we heard what Veeraiah said, we were surprised that such things exist in our society,” said Kethepogu Mahesh, a member of the non-governmental organisation, Foundation for Sustainable Development (FSD), that aided Veeraiah and Jyothi in leaving work at Mudavath’s farm.
He added: “For a Rs 15,000 advance [debt], his working as a bonded labourer for three years seems like an egregious thing.”
If one assumes the couple’s bonded labour each day chipped off Rs 10,000 – which is about how much the FSD said they now earn together doing agricultural labour – the base amount would have been extinguished from their debt in a mere 15 days.
FSD employees said they were tipped off by another local NGO which came to know about the couple’s alleged situation.
“We visited them a couple times, found out what their situation was and confirmed that they were working as bonded labourers…following which we wrote to the [Achampet sub-divisional magistrate] on behalf of the FSD and facilitated their rescue,” which took place on November 13, Mahesh said.
In cases involving exploitation, as alleged here, those at the receiving end often continue to work without realising what they are being subjected to is bonded labour or slavery, and thus, illegal. For instance, members of the FSD said that Veeraiah’s mother-in-law, who was in a similar predicament as him and Jyothi, had opted to stay at the farm when they made contact with her there.
As for Veeraiah and Jyothi, they were issued ‘release certificates’ by the Achampeta sub-divisional magistrate on November 14. These certificates officially extinguish the debt bonded labourers are forced to work for and, according to standard operating procedure, are issued after the magistrate questions the labourers about the circumstances of their work and finds that they underwent bonded labour.
From left to right: Jyothi, Veeraiah and daughter Anjamma, Veeraiah’s father Lingaiah and their dog Bunyi. Photo: Anirudh S.K./The Wire.
Under the Union government’s scheme for the rehabilitation of bonded labourers – which is meant implement the Bonded Labour System (Abolition) (BLSA) Act of 1976 – adult male bonded labourers who are released are entitled to rehabilitation worth Rs 1 lakh and adult women, Rs 2 lakh. Those rescued from extreme conditions are entitled to Rs 3 lakh.
The disbursement of these amounts is subject to a conviction in the case, but rescued bonded labourers – those issued a release certificate – are entitled to an initial rehabilitation amount of Rs 30,000 each under the scheme, regardless of whether a conviction takes place.
Police invoked Section 146 of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), which deals with unlawful compulsory labour, as well as section 16 of the BLSA Act, which pertains to compelling someone to work in the bonded labour system, against Mudavath in an FIR registered on November 14.
Accused’s son denies charges
Thulasiram, Mudavath’s son, denied that Veeraiah and Jyothi were employed as bonded labourers at their homestead.
He said the couple would often visit their property, where he said Jyothi’s parents began working about four years ago.
“They never stayed with us permanently, kept coming and going from here and would eat here,” Thulasiram said, when asked about Veeraiah and Jyothi. “We never forced them to do anything. They came and went whenever they liked.”
Further, Thulasiram suggested that Jyothi’s mother no longer worked for his family.
Thulasiram said that his family paid off a “Rs 20,000” debt that Veeraiah and Jyothi had incurred elsewhere and brought them to work in their farm only three months ago.
“… We [Thulasiram’s family] came to believe that they [Veeraiah and Jyothi] wouldn’t give us the money or do anything, so we took it [the Rs 20,000] lightly,” he added.
“We brought them [to our farm] but they left in two days,” he also said.
Couple awaits initial compensation sum, outlook for remainder unclear
Asked how he planned on using their initial tranche of compensation, Veeraiah said he looked forward to breeding goats and sheep for sale.
However, the couple does not have their money yet – they opened their first bank accounts only earlier this month. They are now going through the process of applying for the initial Rs 30,000 each.
At any rate, it may be a while until their case reaches a conclusion and the full rehabilitation amount is issued in the event of a conviction, the NGO’s members say.
Vasudeva Rao, the Telangana convenor of the National Adivasi Solidarity Council (NASC) network that helps bonded labour survivors and which the FSD is a part of, said that in no rescue case his organisation has facilitated so far has anyone received their full rehabilitation amount.
“In our case, no case has completed a conviction,” he said.
While the BLSA Act provides for accused persons to be tried summarily by an executive magistrate, which the standard operating procedure says should be completed in three months, Rao noted that the addition of a BNS provision in Veeraiah and Jyothi’s case means it will undergo a regular trial in court.
Veeraiah stands next to chillies they have bought from the nearby town of Achampet in order to ground into powder and eat.
Under the Union government’s scheme, Jyothi would be entitled to more money than Veeraiah in the event of a conviction, but at the moment Jyothi’s lack of familiarity with numbers is a gap the NGO is keen to fill.
For instance, Mahesh asked her if she could tell how much some banknotes he pulled out of his wallet were worth. “They’re all worth Rs 100,” she said. The shown notes ranged from Rs 10, to Rs 20 and Rs 100.
Extremely low literacy is one reason why Chenchus are counted as being among India’s 75 particularly vulnerable Scheduled Tribes. The other criteria for their inclusion in this category are their forest-based livelihoods, use of pre-agricultural technology, stagnant or declining population and a subsistence-oriented economy.
While Veeraiah and Jyothi now live in the former’s father’s home in Gumpanpalle village in rural Nagarkurnool district, many Chenchu people are forest-dwellers.
Krishnan of the NASC told The Wire that Chenchus are vulnerable to exploitation because whole communities have been displaced due to various ‘development programmes’.
“Because of the displacement, the tribe is not able to practice traditional means of livelihood, which includes collecting forest produce. This leaves them vulnerable to exploitation,” Krishnan said.
Asked about his plans to educate his four-year-old daughter Anjamma, Veeraiah said he intends to send her to a local government school and, when she reaches the sixth grade, would like to enroll her in a state-run residential school for Chenchu children.
With Veeraiah now working for daily wages and having the freedom of movement, FSD worker Tadem Jayaprakash asked him if he had been thinking about the world beyond his village or the fields that surround it.
“I don’t have such thoughts. I only think about surviving,” Veeraiah said.
