covid 19 lockdown migrant workers

During Lockdown, Law Students Across the Country Chip in to Help the Underprivileged

From legal and financial help to ensuring stranded workers are fed and reach home, students from many law universities have risen to the occasion.

Chennai: What would have otherwise been a period of interning with law firms and lawyers, the COVID-19 crisis has turned many law students towards helping the marginalised secure their rights. In the past few months, alumni and law students of National Law Schools have offered legal and financial help to many, ensuring that migrant workers are fed and sent home. In a certain case, students have also fought to secure the jobs of sanitation workers.

‘RML Corona warriors’

When the lockdown was announced, 13 students from Dr Ram Manohar Lohia National Law University in Lucknow had to stay back at the hostel. The initial phase of the lockdown was spent chatting with each other, walking down the empty corridors, catching up with people through their phones and playing sports in the multipurpose hall. Soon enough, along with the rising COVID-19 count, the photos of migrant workers walking home populated their newsfeed.

On May 16, Sumant Dixit, one of the key persons in the initiative that was later christened the ‘RML Corona Warriors’, requested the college mess workers to pack food for around 200 migrant workers. He asked local NGOs to pick the food up and distribute it.

Students of Dr Ram Manohar Lohiya National Law University helped the mess workers prepare food for stranded migrant workers. Photo: By arrangement

Encouraged by the NGO’s feedback that the food packets had helped the migrant workers, the students then began ‘Mission Triple H – Hygiene, Health and Hydration’. The ‘RML Corona Warriors’ began packing sattu, glucose, sugar, rice, wheat, biscuits, bananas, water bottles and ORS. They realised that apart from food, female migrant workers also needed personal hygiene items such as sanitary pads, which they ordered in bulk. While the student group would sift through the relief supply and pack them into convenient wholesome packs, the university’s mess workers packed boxes of poori-sabzi, chole or rajma chawal.

“When we saw migrant workers walking home in the scorching heat with plastic sheets tied to their bare feet, we ordered 500 pairs of slippers for a mixed age group. We also got ration kits arranged for rickshaw pullers who had to go back home empty-handed after queuing up at public distribution centres all day long,” said Sumant.

When the RML Corona Warriors saw migrant workers walking home with plastic sheets tied to their bare feet, they distributed 500 pairs of slippers. Photo: By arrangement

On May 29, they arranged the return of 42 migrant workers from Lucknow to their homes in Ghazipur on a bus. Further on June 6, the students distributed ration kits to sanitation workers employed by their own university.

Donations poured in from fellow students, relatives, friends and alumni as everyone could see the work being done through a Facebook page. The support system grew stronger, starting with one NGO to eight more getting on board.

They soon added another H to their mission. “Those who didn’t have food, transport or anything in particular, could call up our helpline. Our legal aid committee would put them in touch with the appropriate NGOs,” said Sumant. By the end of May, the student team had fed and taken care of several thousand migrant workers.

NLUD: Workers-students solidarity

On December 27, 2019, the National Law University in Delhi sacked 55 sanitation workers without giving them prior notice. Most of them had worked at the institution for over a decade. Then began the relentless struggle of the university’s students, who stood in solidarity with the workers to help them get their jobs back. They cited unlawful termination and breach of constitutional rights. On June 15, after 163 days of battle, the sanitation workers were reinstated through an official move by the minister of labour and environment, Gopal Rai.

Also Read: Government Has Created an Archive of Distress, a Museum of Misery For Migrant Workers

It took five months for the student team to have a face-to-face meeting with the minister, along with representatives of the workers, contractors and the NLUD. The minister called for the immediate re-appointment of the sanitation workers and invalidated the contract signed between the university and the new contractor, Rajendra Management Group. The company had offered the services of only 36 sanitation workers, far below the actual need of the university.

The six students who led the NLUD Workers-Students Solidarity finally heaved a sigh of relief. During the past few months, they had approached the labour office, the university’s governing council and also had a meeting with the chairman of the Delhi Bar Council instead of taking the recourse of courts.

The students continued to help the sanitation workers with dry ration, medical expenses and counselling. When the lockdown was imposed, the sanitation workers and their families had to grapple with starvation, unemployment and poor health. Many of them were women and the sole breadwinners.

In the last week of May, the students helped the father of one of the sanitation workers get admitted to a hospital. The man was diabetic and succumbed to his illness. His last rites were taken care of by the students.

“We did feel hopeless at certain junctures in this battle, but we never let that affect the workers. We just wanted to keep them united. Uncomfortable issues must be raised in this culture of silence,” said Vidushi Prajapati, member of the NLUD Workers-Students Solidarity and a fourth-year law student.

NLUD students who helped 55 sanitation workers get their jobs back at the university after a relentless battle lasting 163 days. Photo: By arrangement

NALSAR for migrant workers all the way

When the students and alumni of the National Academy of Legal Studies and Research (NALSAR), Hyderabad got to know about brick kiln workers who had been stranded and jobless, they immediately got together to create a WhatsApp group, charting out the logistics to send them back home. On June 2, a bus for the families of nine migrant workers, including 20 adults and 25 children from Bhilwara in Rajasthan to Chitrakoot in Uttar Pradesh was arranged by NALSAR students with the help of a local NGO.

They managed to collect Rs 28 lakhs through crowdfunding and have kept everyone in the loop about the expenditure incurred through their website. “We figured that there wasn’t a major difference between air and bus travel, as bus prices had been hiked and there were several processes involved in getting permission for on-road travel, so we decided to opt for flights. Multiple civil society organisations and individuals helped us,” said a volunteer member.

On June 4, 174 migrant workers from Bengaluru were flown to Raipur, which included four infants. They were fed, given Rs 1,000 each and equipped with protective gear. By June 6, around 95 brick kiln workers were able to reach their hometowns in Odisha from Telangana. When Cyclone Amphan had hit West Bengal, the NALSAR team ensured their full support to community kitchens in the state.

Professor V. Balakista Reddy, Registrar at NALSAR University of Law, said that the initiative, NALSAR for Migrant Workers, was completely student-driven. “In times of crisis, every person’s help counts. Even the teaching community is all for volunteering work. We are proud of the student community that has risen to the pandemic,” he said.

Also Read: ‘They Have Given Up’: Desperate Workers in Tamil Nadu Attempt the Long Journey Home

NLSIU students fly 1,600 migrant workers home

Talha Salaria, an alumna of the National Law School of India University (NLSIU) in Bengaluru and a volunteer at Mission ‘Aahan Vaahan’ spoke of the migrant workers’ disbelief when they were informed about flights being arranged to fly them home. “They thought it was a scam and couldn’t believe someone would do that for them,” she said.

On May 28, the NLSIU alumni funded and arranged a chartered flight for 180 migrant workers from Mumbai to Ranchi. The response to the first flight was colossal, reflected in donations from alumni across the world, NGOs and corporate comapnies. The initial plan was to arrange ten flights in three weeks. So far, they have flown 1,600 migrant workers to their hometowns in eight flights.

The alumni of NLSUI Bengaluru came up with Mission ‘Aahan Vaahan’ to help 1600 migrant workers reach their homes in eight flights. Photo: By arrangement

At the Bengaluru airport, Talha recalled helping the migrant workers categorise their baggage into hand and check-in luggage. “Their most precious possessions were sickles, hammers and tool boxes, reflecting their dire situation and insecurity. A woman was carrying numerous coconuts, maybe hoping to sell them in her hometown. Another woman had dozens of bananas in her bag. Among them was also a man, accompanied by his children, who had been trying to get to Jharkhand for two months. His wife had died due to an illness and he couldn’t afford to get her treated,” she said.

Another group of NLSIU alumni had been arranging food for migrant workers who were travelling in Shramik trains. They continue to receive thank-you calls from migrant workers and their families.

Dr Sarasu Esther Thomas, registrar at NLSIU, noted that the lawyers’ community has been reaching out to the vulnerable. “Marginalised people find it difficult to access legal services even in the best of times. Issues of displacement, deprivation of basic rights and domestic violence against women have boomeranged in the pandemic but help is sparse,” she said. The university has been encouraging law students to help those seeking justice not just during this crisis but even after, by strengthening the legal service network.

Nalini Ravichandran is an independent journalist who has worked with The New Indian Express and Mail Today and reported extensively on health, education, child rights, environment and socio-economic issues of the marginalised. She is an alumna of the Asian College of Journalism.

Why Adityanath’s Simplistic Migration Commission Is a Non-Starter

The commission, set up as a knee-jerk step to quell public anger, is unlikely to have the authority, depth or time to develop an understanding of workers’ predicaments.

In the past few months, we have borne witness to disturbing stories and images of people, struggling to find their way back home.

The tragedy that migrant workers have been subjected to is further compounded by the fact that they continue to face challenges in almost every sphere of life. They are forced to return to their native villages as they have no source of employment, no social security net and have been abandoned by callous governments, which have opted to preoccupy themselves with publicity campaigns to build legitimacy during a time of crisis rather than dealing with the immediate problem at hand.

While the efforts to bring back such workers through railways and other means of transportation are commendable, it must be noted that the central government’s ill-planned response to the outbreak of the coronavirus led to the largest mass migration in recent Indian history.

Uttar Pradesh is the recipient of the largest number of migrants coming into the state via shramik trains. These migrant workers are returning to a state which is laden with debt – with the Adityanath government’s failure to push for more funds for the state as a special relief package in view of the crisis – with no major sources of employment – most of the MoUs signed during flashy UP investment summits have not materialised into any investment – with depressed demand and a huge unskilled labour force.

Also read: Migrant Worker, Likely Deceased for Days, Found in Toilet of Shramik Special Train

Uttar Pradesh chief minister Adityanath has directed the setting up of a Migration Commission for the employment of labourers returning to the state. Since the government has failed to provide information on the constitution, powers and role of the commission so far, we can surmise the terms of reference of the commission from newspaper reports. These include:

Mapping the skills of workers
The authority to grant “permission” to other states seeking to re-employ migrant workers from Uttar Pradesh
Providing social security to workers
The general welfare of migrant workers

The UP government may add additional terms, as it is quite evident that this commission does not have a great deal of planning behind it – details are not one of the chief minister’s strong suits.

This measure, however, does reveal certain flaws in the state government’s planning and approach itself. Unfortunately, it also suggests that the commission will not have an impact on the migrant crisis or bring about a systemic change.

First, the decision reflects a failure to recognise the push and pull factors that led to such migration in the first place. The government’s lack of empathy for the migrants shows that it has failed to understand that migration for most is a compulsion and empty assurances do little to change the circumstances which compelled them to migrate in the first place.

While the decision to declare that all migrants will be provided with employment within the state may grab headlines, it is still not clear how the commission is going to accomplish this, when several government departments, investors summits, schemes (such as One District One Product) and the chief minister himself has failed to do so. Limited non-agricultural employment options, coupled with depressed agricultural wages and incomes, close to no social security and a general lack of life opportunities have come together to create a complicated problem, which cannot be addressed by government bodies working in silos.

Migrants wait to board ‘Shramik Special’ train in Navi Mumbai, Wednesday, May 20, 2020. Representative image. Photo: PTI

Second, Yogi Adityanath’s government has adopted a bureaucratic style of functioning by conflating the constitution of commissions, schemes and funds (much like the central government) with a solution to the problem. The chief minister is being led to believe by his counsellors that appointing a group of bureaucrats or pro-government experts guarantees outcomes. Indian government and bureaucracy have unfortunately proven this to be incorrect.

Also read: BJP Government in UP Playing Politics Over Congress Buses for Migrants Marked a New Low

A commission may prove to be the source for innovative solutions and a deeper understanding of the problem when it is manned by independent experts. However, with the current regime’s fear of criticism, this is unlikely to happen. There is no evidence to suggest that such commissions have played a constructive role, when it comes to the implementation of solutions. They become an additional layer of bureaucratic oversight, at best, and an obstacle to field level functionaries at worst.

Third, the government has also exhibited shocking ignorance to the extent of wilfully disregarding the details in this plan.

How will the commission work with other implementation agencies already working in the areas within its ambit? How will it coordinate with other states for the so-called “permissions”? Will the “permissions” close off the only source of employment that our migrant labourers have currently? Who will be responsible for skill up-gradation when the much-touted “skill mapping” is completed? Who will be part of the commission? How will the influx of migrant workers impact the agricultural labour market and what steps are to be taken to address this issue?

These are just a few amongst several details the government has failed to share and quite possibly not worked out yet. One of the reasons for this omission may be that it is difficult to hold something or someone accountable if their roles are not spelt out clearly. This commission is likely to be another example of this misstep.

Fourth, there is a complete lack of engagement with underlying factors that led to the problem. For example, while the commission’s mandate includes a “social security net” for migrants, the state government is silent on why the plethora of social security schemes did nothing to quell the plight of our workers. Nor has the government indicate what level of social security should be assured to such workers and whether the question of a universal basic income should be taken up now. Any body which refuses to develop an in depth understanding of the problem and alternative solutions, is unlikely to have any structural impact.

Finally, by opting for the beaten path of commissions and “new government schemes”, rather than rationalising of existing structures and designing policies based on hard data, the government has proved that it has run out of ideas. This becomes particularly serious when we consider the post-COVID-19 world. The chief minister has no answers to the problems of employment, skill up-gradation and investment in the face of depressed demand other than “setting up a commission”.

Also read: Diluting Laws Will Mean More Casual Labour – and That’s Not a Good Thing

In the face of no clear policy directions, we risk losing a whole generation. During such a critical time, we are left with helmsmen (both at the state and the centre) who do not know which route to take and are dismissive of any inputs. Falling short of criticising the chief minister’s competence to lead our state, we may safely assume that with the misguided advice he is currently receiving, he cannot lead us out of this crisis. While he may be able to posture and position himself as a “decisive” leader, he must take time to evaluate his own decisions, as they are likely to have an irreversible impact on our future.

All the factors above suggest the chief minister has again fallen prey to making announcements without substance. But policy decisions must be based on facts and data rather than pompous gestures. Yogi Adityanath has been vulnerable to rash decisions based on shallow advice before, such as the ordinance suspending labour laws for three years.

The state government was led to believe that labour laws were the only obstacle to investment in Uttar Pradesh. Labour laws were suspended, without taking the time to understand the protections they afford and the other, much more acute, barriers to investment the state faces today.

Yogi Adityanath has attempted to cultivate the image of a “bold leader”. This has been amplified by the complete lack of leadership shown by the rest of the party in the state. However, he must recognise that when it comes to government policy a “bold” decision, is not always the right one. The migrant commission has been set up as a knee jerk step to quell public anger and pacify the media, is unlikely to have the authority, depth or time to develop an understanding of the problems that face our brothers and sisters when they are forced to leave their homes in search of better lives in other states.

Juhie Singh is the ex-chairperson of UP State Commission for Protection of Child Rights (UPSCPCR) and a spokesperson for the Samajwadi Party.

Death of Woman at Muzaffarpur Station: Patna High Court Takes Suo Motu Cognizance

Two more migrant workers died in trains while on the way to their homes in Bihar.

Patna: The Patna high court on Thursday took suo motu cognisance of the death of a woman on board a train carrying migrants from Gujarat to Bihar, after a video clip of her little son fiddling with the shroud placed on her body while it lay at a railway station went viral and provoked outrage.

A division bench headed by Chief Justice Sanjay Karol and Justice Sanjay Kumar took up the matter soon after the latter brought to the notice of the court a newspaper report about the incident that took place on Monday last but came to light two days later.

The court directed additional advocate general S.D. Yadav to return with details in the post-lunch session.

In the afternoon, Yadav submitted that the deceased was “mentally unstable” and had died a natural death “during the course of her journey from Surat which was a fact” reported by her companions – her sister and brother-in-law.

Yadav also informed the court that no post-mortem was conducted nor was any FIR registered and the body was allowed to be taken home after recording the statements of the family members by railway authorities at Muzaffarpur station.

The district administration facilitated their onward travel by arranging for an ambulance up to their destination.

The additional advocate general also said that the woman, hailing from Katihar, had been living with her sister and brother-in-law after being deserted by her husband and that the orphaned child is in safe custody in the guardianship of the sister of the deceased.

Yadav added he will, nonetheless, personally pursue the matter with the authorities (concerned) who would again reach out to the family, enquiring about any need of assistance.

The court took note of Yadav’s contention that the advocate general had spoken to the states standing counsel in the Supreme Court and the solicitor general of India for ascertaining information of overlapping of issues though the same had not been received by the time of hearing.

The court posted the matter for further hearing on June 3, noting that in view of the submissions made, it would prudently refrain from issuing any further directions, more so when the child is in safe custody.

“However, let what is so stated by Shri Yadav, as also complete facts be known to the court, on the personal affidavit of the concerned principal secretaries, before the next date,” the bench said.

Two more migrant workers die

Bihar has received close to 20 lakh migrants since the special trains began running and there have been quite a few incidents of people dying on way to their homes.

Two such deaths were reported on Thursday in Bihar’s Khagaria district.

A woman died on a Katihar-bound train from Gujarat, while a man travelling by another Shramik Special from Rewari in Haryana also breathed his last aboard.

On Monday, Muzaffarpur railway station was witness to another death. Besides the woman, a boy aged about five years died in his mother’s lap while his father made a desperate hunt for some milk to feed the hungry child upon alighting from the train they had boarded from Delhi.

Meanwhile, leader of the opposition in the state assembly Tejashwi Yadav interacted with the woman’s bereaved parents via video conferencing, offered his condolences and got an amount of Rs 5 lakh handed over to them by the Katihar district unit chief of his Rashtriya Janata Dal.

He also expressed dismay at complaints of lack of facilities like food and water on ‘Shramik Special’ trains and mismanagement in their running, often causing inordinate delay in their arrival.

Deserted, Demeaned and Distressed: The Lot of Migrant Workers in the Delhi-Haryana Region

The unilateral lockdown has exposed the precarious, if not oppressive relationship between migrant workers and their employers in a region termed one of the fastest-growing industrial and manufacturing hubs globally.

“The person in charge told us to stay put, saying we would get our full pay, and that the company would restart work. He said we would get a message when work restarted but did not say when that would be. He just held us back.”

This is what Ranjeet, who was working for an export company in Khandsa (Gurugram) before the lockdown, told me in the course of a conversation on May 8. He had not received his full wages for the month of March until then.

Ranjeet, like most migrant workers, moved to the city to earn a livelihood and support his family in Bihar. Although he was keen to go home, the promise of being paid was what had held him back.

However, by the time Ranjeet received the much-awaited message from his employer, on May 16, about the company restarting, he was on his way to Bihar, cooped up in a truck.

My experience of working as a volunteer for the Stranded Workers Action Network (SWAN) as part of its Delhi-Haryana team has put me in touch with hundreds of such migrants working in India’s National Capital Region (NCR). Since March 27, our team has received calls from over 800 groups, consisting of 5000 migrant workers, and daily-wage labourers stranded across Delhi and Haryana.

A welding unit in Wazirpur before the lockdown. Photo: Antara Rai Chowdhury

While the challenges of accessing food and ration have been widely reported in the media, the unilateral lockdown has also exposed the precarious, if not oppressive relationship between migrant workers and their employers. The NCR region prides itself on being one of the fastest-growing industrial and manufacturing hubs in the world, with the national capital ranked sixth, globally, according to the Brookings’ study Global Metro Monitor 2018, yet the plight of the workers building these cities shows a deeply disturbing side to this ‘success’ story.

Of the 4,388 workers from the Delhi-Haryana region who responded to the question on the nature of employment, more than half (62 %) said they were employed in some form of construction or daily-wage work, earning an average of Rs 332 a day. These workers were employed for loading and unloading goods, transport, masonry work and making garments, bags and leather products in factories and export companies. Most of these companies have not paid their workers their full wages even for the month of March.

Their situation is further complicated by the fact that due to the sub-contractor system, many workers did not know the names of the companies they were working for. They were only acquainted with the names of the thekedaars, or contractors, who had either denied help or simply stopped responding to the workers’ calls of distress. With their only thread of connection broken, these migrant workers and daily wage labourers have found themselves in a fix.

The Maruti plant in Manesar around which several ancillary activities have grown, giving employment to migrant workers. The lockdown meant cessation of work, no wages, or partial payments. Photo: Rahul Roy

Also Read: Amidst Lockdown, 1 Out of Every 5 Kids in Uttarakhand Didn’t Get Food Grains Under Mid-Day Meal

We have received the largest number of distress calls from industrial clusters like Narela and Mangolpuri in Delhi and Khandsa, IMT Manesar and Sarhaul in Gurugram. Of the companies that workers were able to name as having made no payments or partial payments, some prominent ones stand out. These include Orient Craft Ltd., Jet Group, Chintels India Ltd. and Maruti Suzuki, which has been involved in various CSR efforts in Haryana and has also contributed to the PM-CARES fund.

As of May 14, about 78 % of the 3,440 workers from Delhi and Haryana who responded to the question about payment said they had not been paid during the lockdown. About 84% of them were working in Delhi; 79% were in Gurgaon and 74% in Faridabad. In Ghaziabad, this percentage is comparatively lower at 60%. The numbers are an eyeopener.

Migrant workers living close to the Maruti factory in Sarhaul who were rendered jobless during the lockdown. Photo: Ashish Sood

In some cases, workers were stranded at construction sites termed ‘labour camps’ as those stranded in one of the industrial areas of Rai, in Sonipat, term it. These ‘labour camps’ had 50-150 people, including women and children, living in makeshift jhuggis, without any access to food or basic facilities.

While some of these workers were able to call contractors and put some pressure on them for rations and cash, the worst hit were the dihari mazdoors, or daily wagers. Prior to the lockdown, they would go to the labour chowks every day in search of work such as loading and unloading of trucks, plaster and masonry work and so on. Even as the lockdown eases, daily wage workers have no one to hold accountable or even reach out to for unpaid wages.

Budhan Kumar, a daily wage worker in the Sagarpur region of Delhi, used to earn around Rs 300-500 daily, depending on the kind of work available. Speaking about the uncertainty of work, he said, “Hum toh berozgar aadmi hai. Roz chowk pe jaana padta hai. Waha par agar theke ke hisab se kaam mila, toh kar lete hai. (Since I don’t have any regular work, I have to go to the chowk daily. If I happen to get work on a contractual basis, then I take it up).”

Labour chowk in Old Delhi, the oldest in the city (2019). Photo: Intifada P. Basheer and Azam Abbas

The sudden lockdown, imposed with only a four-hour notice, left him with no means of earning, nor the chance to go back to his village in Jharkhand. He stayed on in the ‘labour camp’.

In Haryana, although 34,375 industries had resumed work as of May 11, some migrant workers from the region have been telling us that their companies have been selective about calling workers back. For many indirectly dependent on factories, earning daily wages of Rs 300-400 by working in ancillary units, work is yet to start.

Munna, one such daily wage worker who used to work around the Hero Honda factory, another major cluster in Manesar, said, “Abhi toh kaam sirf bade logon ke liye khula hai. Hum toh factory ke baahar waale mazdoor hai. (Work has started only for the senior people. We are outside labourers).”

In some cases, workers who have gone back to work, have been forced to work overtime without any additional payment. Niranjan, working in Lumax Industries Ltd. in Gurugram, who was only partially paid for the month of March, said that workers like him are now expected to work overtime, without payments. When asked if he has taken it up with anyone in authority, he said, “Hum kahan kis ko bole? Woh thekedaar hame darata, dhamkata hai. Woh toh local aadmi hai, hum bahar ke hai. (Where do we go, whom do we tell? The contractor threatens us. He is a local, whereas we are migrants).”

Also Read: Why Do We Treat Internal Migrants Differently From International Migrants?

Adding to the precarity, some states are planning to suspend labour laws at the behest of the industries. Haryana had issued a similar notification, indicating relaxation of certain provisions and increased working hours. For migrant workers like Niranjan, who find it difficult to seek help against the coercive local thekedaars, such moves by the government, not only adds to their distress but strips them of their right to dignified, decent and fair work.

Manju Devi, who sews garments for an export company, was relieved when she heard the news that her company was restarting work. However, her relief was short-lived. She says, “Hume thekedaar ne kaha ki ladies ko pass nahi denge, sirf gents ko hi wapis bulaenge. (The contractor told us that only men would be called back to work).”

This 2017 picture was released by the Garment and Allied Workers Union (GAWU) in Haryana during its campaign to highlight the rampant violations by garment factories in Gurgaon-Manesar in the payment of minimum wages. The lockdown was the biggest blow for the migrant workers. Photo: Courtesy of GAWU

This selective employment, as industries are slowly reopening, only reveals the even greater vulnerability that women migrants will have to face even as the lockdown eases. Manju Devi’s husband is disabled and she has five children to provide for. Apart from refusing to take her back, her company has also failed to give her the payment due to her. With no source of income, she has been forced to survive by borrowing food and ration from local shops, which has pushed her into a vicious cycle of indebtedness.

The COVID-19 pandemic has exposed the deplorable condition of the informal labour force in Indian cities. At the same time, it has repeatedly signalled that food and cash are not exclusive to each other. Although the package announced by finance minister Nirmala Sitharaman on May 14 for migrant relief has importance in the long term, unfortunately, it came too late and didn’t provide any immediate relief.

Not only that, the government, in guidelines issued on May 17, withdrew the March 29 order that the Ministry of Home Affairs had passed, directing all employers to make full payment of wages to their workers as long as they remained under lockdown. This means the employers have been released from any obligation to pay their workers full wages for the lockdown period or even the month of March.

What the thousands of stranded workers require is the payment of full wages, along with an emergency compensation of at least Rs 7,000 per worker (roughly one-third of the monthly minimum living wages of Rs 18,000 as per the 7th Pay Commission) for the period of three months, assuring the protection of their right to live a dignified life.

Also Read: The Long Road Home: A Day in the Life of a Stranded Migrant Worker in Bengaluru

Responding to the distress calls for the past 50 odd days has also revealed a deep distrust towards the employers among the workers and daily-wage labourers, who were left without the most basic provisions to survive the long period of the lockdown. This distrust, even if long-standing, runs even deeper now.

This sense of betrayal was distinctly felt when on May 17, when I asked Sanjeev Kumar, a construction worker from Bihar who was forced to start his journey of 1,137 km on foot due to the lack of immediate relief, whether he would return after the lockdown. He immediately replied, “Nahi, nahi, wapas nahi jayenge wahan. (No way. I will not go back there).”

Navmee Goregaonkar is a student at St Xavier’s College, in Mumbai, and a volunteer with the Stranded Workers Action Network (SWAN). This article was written with the help of inputs from Anindita Adhikari and data support from Nishant Panicker. She can be reached at navmee06@gmail.com.

The Sufferings of Others: What the Present Crisis Tells Us About Capacity for Empathy

Stories of workers walking absurd distances back to their homes may fill one with compassion, but that does not quite make you a compassionate person.

What does it take to be sensitive to the plight of another? “Nothing,” says an imaginary interlocutor, “one naturally feels the pain of another.” She pauses, then adds: “Or doesn’t.” The addendum strikes this author as a chilling rebuke, a reminder of all the times that one failed to feel something when one ought to have. Then come the pragmatic arguments. “There’s so much suffering! There isn’t much you can do about it all.” “You would go mad if you felt sorry for each person that suffers. You’ve got to preserve your sanity.”

These pragmatic arguments are wrong. The question is not one about feeling sorry for every unfortunate person all of the time; it is about one’s capacity for empathy. It is about having a trait of character, from which might flow conduct aimed at alleviating suffering. Now, traits of character are not easy to come by. Stories about workers walking absurd distances back to their homes may fill one with compassion, but those few times that you felt compassion does not quite make you a compassionate person.

It is said that Siddhartha clapped eyes on one sick man, a single corpse, and a yogi, and knew right away what he needed to do. But that is only part of the story. The remaining bit is carefully worked out in the Jataka stories, which can, of course, all be ignored if one doesn’t believe in rebirth. So let us treat Buddha, that most sensitive of souls, as an exception to the present account.

In The Religion of Man, Rabindranath Tagore writes:

To be able to take a considerable amount of trouble in order to supply water to a passing stranger and yet never claim merit or reward for it seems absurdly and negligibly simple compared with a capacity to produce an amazing number of things per minute. Yet, it is simple, as simple as it is for a gentleman to be a gentleman; but that simplicity is the product of centuries of culture. Simplicity takes no account of its own value, claims no wages, and therefore those who are enamoured of power do not realise that simplicity of spiritual expression is the highest product of civilization.

Locals providing water for the walking migrants. Photo: Ismat Ara

Tagore wrote these words against the backdrop of a story about the erosion of human values in the city compared to the villages, where life was much harder, and yet the people more generous. But his remarks can be generalised beyond that particular case.

Any community of people develops certain values to live by. Efforts are made to preserve them in the life of the community through the conduct of the individuals that constitute it. If this is done wrong, you get sati, ‘honour killing’ and other practices that distort the idea of what is valuable, and perpetuate the vested interests of a few who crave power over others.

However, a community that does it right exercises “eternal vigilance” of a certain kind. It takes cognizance of failures to uphold the chosen value, e.g., empathy or non-violence, and encourages its young to engage with it in a spirit of enquiry, making available numerous examples of empathetic (or: non-violent) conduct to ease their transition into the moral life of the community.

Thus it takes not a village, but the selfless work of generations to weave the moral fibre of a single human being, and by extension, that of the community. Only then does a “gentleman” (or, if you prefer, a samurai) enact gentlemanliness “simply”, as Rabindranath puts it; only then does non-violence, or empathy, or compassion seem a natural responses to the other.

The preserving of values in the second way demands constant reflection on one’s own conduct, and upon the nature of the values themselves. The latter is portrayed in the Mahabharata as an inter-generational dialogue, with Yudhishthira (among others) inquiring about the nature of dharma of every significant elder in the story. The possibility of such work on the self presupposes an enquiring mind, and the intention to act morally. Those things do not come “naturally” to our species. Serious educational effort goes into producing human beings who are reflective and morally vigilant.

Also Read: Feel a Little Shame for the Lost Soul of the Nation

What Tagore means by “the simplicity of spiritual expression” is the expression of one’s self to another that comes across as “simple” or artless, but is undergirded by layers of refinement over generations. In Bengali, he often uses the term aatmiiya, literally, “of the self” for the other, in contexts where he speaks of drawing the other to oneself in an acknowledgement of their humanity. Each time we are receptive to the need or suffering of the other, we simultaneously express our humanity and value that of another. “Spiritual expression” is simple also in the sense that aatmiiyataa is really not so hard to come by—we love our pets as “simply” as children talk to inanimate objects as if they were people—but as we grow older, it is eclipsed by consistently self-interested conduct and the subsequent tendency to treat the other as a mere instrument.

On May 20, West Bengal chief minister Mamata Banerjee exclaimed that cyclone Amphan had spelt disaster for her state (sarbanaash hoye gelo). The “top comment” under an article about the aftermath of the cyclone in a national daily read: ‘Didi, why don’t you give your state to Modi-ji and take a rest?’ This throwaway remark captures the failure of the community of free, democratic Indians to preserve the values that it lays claim to: its children are “enamoured of power”: they prefer it to “womanly” expressions of a sense of loss. They have so trained their vision that it glides smoothly off the suffering of their fellow-beings and comes to rest on something evanescent and of far inferior value. Such effort to divorce themselves from their humanity would perhaps be laughable if it were not so tragic –both for ourselves and for future generations of Indians.

Indrani Bhattacharjee teaches philosophy at Azim Premji University, Bangalore.

As Lakhs of Workers Trudge Back Home, a Look at Songs About Migration

Musical forms in different parts of the country deal with themes such as separation, dispossession and hostile working conditions.

Sootal rehlin sapan ek dekhlin
Sapan manbhavan ho sakhiya
Phootali kiriniya purab asmanva
Ujar ghar angan ho sakhiya
Ankhiya ke nirwa bhail khet sonwa
Ta khet bhail aapan ho sakhiya

(While sleeping I had a wonderful dream, my friend
As sunrays light up in eastern sky
And fill up my dwelling and courtyard with light
My tears turn into a golden harvest
And the farm becomes mine, my friend).

So goes a poem written by the late poet Gorakh Pande in Bhojpuri, in the Bidesiya style, narrating a wife’s dreams of owning land in the context of distress and deprivation, where her husband has migrated to a distant land for survival. It is said that the Bidesiya got crystallised formally as a music form following the popularity of the play Bidesiya by poet, writer and playwright Bhikhari Thakur in the 19th century in Bihar. The play contained six songs on migration, with the best known one being ‘Bhave naahin bhavanan, ho ram, videsh gavanvan,’ (I don’t care for palaces, Oh Ram, my beloved has gone to a foreign land).

This genre of migration songs expresses lament – of separation and uncertainty – and the woman’s fear that the ‘foreign’ land might subsume her husband. The eager anticipation of his arrival back home is encompassed by the ultimate anxiety of losing him. They also lament their desperate conditions, particularly their landlessness and hope against hope for a brighter future, is perhaps never to be.

Migrant workers cycle to their native places. Photo: PTI

Lament, separation, dispossession from land and village, hostile conditions and the drudgery of labour in an alien land are all familiar themes expressed through numerous poetic and musical forms in different parts of the country in the context of migration.

Bihar and Eastern Uttar Pradesh have long been major sources for migrant workers going far away from home, as indentured labour to plantations in the Caribbean, Fiji and South Africa, as industrial labour to the mills of Calcutta and Bombay in the colonial period. Such migrations have in fact intensified to different states of India in the present times. Bhojpuri migration songs, in forms like the Bidesiya as well as the Viraha or Jatsari, represent the woman’s voice and are a rich expression of the socio-cultural conditions in the villages. In Gorakh Pande’s Bidesiya, for example, the woman dreams of the time when the mahajan (moneylender) will be chased away and the fields that they work in can become their own.

One song that comes to mind is from Telangana, a description of his situation as a roadworker by a migrant worker.

He says in the song:

Tug away, my brother, at the roadroller
Push it forward
The hot sun dances above my head
More than half the road is yet to be laid
The stones that I am laying are being flattened by cars
I have to work hard, I have to work fast
They say the Governor’s car will soon have to pass from here
I have a huge loan to pay to the Marwari
How can I say the boulders that I carry
Are heavier than that!
I will not survive without this hard work
I have become a slave to my existence
I have to exist like a slave
For I am the peasant who has sold his land
Moved to the city with my belly in my hands
I have to exist like a slave

Migration from Kerala to the Gulf countries is well researched and much has been written about the socio-economic impact of such migration, by men as workers in a variety of occupations and of women mostly as domestic workers and nurses. What is less known is a category of songs called Kathu Pattu (Letter songs) that have become symbolic of the emotions of mostly the wives who have been left behind. Two types of songs constitute the genre, one of the woman singing about her situation in the Kathu (letter) and the man responding to her letter in the Marupati Kathu. These songs draw on a tradition that has been in existence from the 19th century, with Moyinkutty Vaidyar, who was considered one of the greatest poets of the Mappilapattu (songs of the Mappila Muslims in Kerala) wrote the first one, and a rich corpus came into existence thereafter. The present corpus of songs is mostly from the late 1970s, following the large scale migration to the Gulf.

After the coronavirus lockdown was implemented, lakhs of migrants have been walking, cycling or travelling in various precarious ways to cross hundreds, if not thousands of kilometres to get home. One of these workers wrote a song, appealing to the government to send them home. What the massive exodus shows is that despite the pull of the city or a job far away from home and its promise of a better life, the rootlessness and vulnerability in the places they migrate to remains. What is expressed poignantly in the song, most importantly, is the desire to be back at home amongst loved ones in the midst of calamity.

Sumangala Damodaran is professor of economics, School of Development Studies at Dr B.R. Ambedkar University.

Watch | The Story of the Weeping Man Who Has Become Symbol of Migrant Worker Crisis

The story behind Rampukar Pandit’s now viral image.

For some days, the photo of Rampukar Pandit, a labourer crying while speaking on his mobile phone has become viral on social media. It has become a symbol of the tragedy of migrant workers who are stranded and have lost their jobs due to the lockdown. This is the story of the man in the picture.

Migrant Worker Crisis: Violent Scuffle for Food Packets at Bihar Railway Station

Migrant workers’ struggles have intensified in the past few days as they have been travelling back to their home states without enough food and water.

New Delhi: A fierce fight broke out at the Katihar railway station between migrant workers for packets of free food being distributed. A tragic video of workers fighting for a packet of food went viral on social media.

These workers, travelling in a special Shramik train from Delhi to Purnea, had stopped mid-way at Katihar railway station. Several of them had been travelling without food for days and when the local administration arranged for free food packets, desperate workers broke into a fight to grab their share.

In the video, several men could be seen fighting and pushing each other. The man carrying the food packets was overpowered and mobbed. In a wild scramble, a few men can be seen taking what they could lay their hands on. Some stood there helplessly.

The group, desperate for their share, can be seen dragging themselves dangerously close to the train. As soon as the train began to move, some can be seen hopping back into the train.

Shubhanan Chandra, the spokesperson of Northern Frontier Railways, told NDTV, “Lunch was being distributed at Katihar. Only one person distributes food per coach. As it was taking time, some lost their patience and pounced on the food. It is very sad. We appeal to people, these are difficult times, they must be patient.”

This was not the only video of labourers struggling for sustenance that has gone viral. In a similar video that was shared on social media, a group of travellers could be seen struggling for food packers at the Barauni station in Begusarai district.

Since the special train services have been started, several labourers have been ferried from cities back to their villages. Most labourers were stuck in cities like Mumbai, Bengaluru, Hyderabad without a job or pay. However, since no travel was available to return home, they were forced to stay back and survive on the ration and food made available by governments and NGOs. In most cases, since adequate help was not available, many have been on the brink of starvation.

At some railway stations, the district administration has tried to arrange food and water supplies for those travelling back home.

Many labourers who could not afford train tickets were forced to cover hundreds of kilometres on feet. In many cases, labourers were forced to make risky choices and travel by rickety vehicles. There have been a series of accidents and many people have died on the road.

In Bihar alone, the state Disaster Management Department is running about 3,665 quarantine centres at the block level in districts where currently over 1.3 lakh migrants are housed. It is estimated that about 2.5 lakh migrants will be travelling to Bihar in 200 trains in the coming week.

Of the 1,005 COVID-19 cases that the state has identified, over 350 are migrant workers who have recently returned.

Why Bengaluru’s Migrant Construction Workers Are Marching Home

Apart from running out of money and rations, workers say landlords have demanded rent, while some are worried about their families.

Bengaluru: Under the shadow of Bengaluru’s elevated highway that leads out of the city, Bhajrangi Nishad (30) walks with a brisk, panicky stride. “We better pick up the pace,” he tells his six friends who are walking along with him. With them are bags, paint boxes and even a crowbar. “We have to get out of the city as soon as possible,” he says as he spots a group of policemen.

Their aim is to traverse National Highway 44, that runs through the spine of the country, towards their homes in Gorakhpur district. They are ready to walk 2,000 km? “It is 1,800 km. We will find a way,” says Bhajrangi resolutely.

Early on Thursday, they had left their tin-shed homes close to Electronic City, the home to some of India’s biggest software companies, some 40 km away.

There is no option but to continue walking until they reach home, he says. “We have no money. There have been no rations given for two days. Our contractor threatened to evict us if we didn’t resume work at the complex…Who knows when this lockdown will end. We know what is happening in Mumbai and we don’t want to end up being trapped in a city where no one cares whether we die of this bimari (disease) or of hunger,” says Bhajrangi.

Further ahead, thousands of migrants carrying their meagre belongings can also be seen travelling on NH 44, which eventually leads to Hyderabad, Gwalior and Jhansi. On Thursday evening, the BJP government, which had cancelled scheduled inter-state trains for migrants just two days earlier, announced that train services would resume for migrants.

Migrants rest under a flyover on NH 44. Photo: Mohit Rao

However, for many, it was too little too late. Like Bhajrangi, many had lost faith in a system that had deserted them. “They had told us over the past week that trains will be running. We waited for days outside police stations (to register a request to travel). All we got was the danda (baton). I have more faith that I can walk home than get a train ticket,” he says.

In Photos: As Lockdown Distress Continues, More Migrants Begin Walking Home

Desperate to leave

After more nearly 40 days without pay, work and depleting rations, the May 3 relaxation allowing stranded migrants to travel to their native places had given hope to the thousands of migrants in the city.

The desperation to return to their families was evident in the number of requests that the government received. Between May 3 and 5, over 2.13 lakh migrant workers had registered their intention to travel by train on the state government’s online portal. Many couldn’t register at all due to serpentine queues at police stations. Just 9,600 persons ended up boarding trains.

However, on May 5, this hope diminished. After a meeting with members of the real estate body Confederation of Real Estate Developers’ Association of India (CREDAI), Karnataka chief minister B.S. Yeddyurappa said that labourers should avoid “unnecessary travel” and would be “convinced” to stay back. The state was looking to restart its construction sector, for which migrant labour is the backbone. An exodus would have affected the sector. A few hours later, the government wrote to the railways, cancelling inter-state trains.

Bengaluru MP Tejasvi Surya had called it a “bold move” to help migrants “restart their dreams” in the city. The state government’s move and Surya’s tweet received flak, saying migrants cannot be forcibly confined in the city. In his defence, Surya tweeted that the train service was only for “stranded migrants” and not for the majority of the state’s migrants who had chosen to work here.

However, within labour camps, patience was running thin. Labour agitations and even some confrontation with the police were reported across the city. Labour unions accused the state government of siding with builders and against the fundamental rights of the workers.

The state government was forced to go into firefighting mode. In a quick reversal, the BJP-led government has now formally requested the railways for at least 14 trains between May 8 and May 15 to major states such as Uttar Pradesh, Odisha, Bihar, West Bengal, and even to Manipur and Tripura.

With an average capacity of 1,200 passengers – social distancing norms mandate that the middle berth is empty – this would translate to nearly 1.15 lakh persons being ferried home. The train service will hinge on approval from recipient states.

Even if the trains are arranged, it may only accommodate a fraction of the expected demand. The 2011 Census enumerates that 8.9% of the city’s 85 lakh population are recent migrants. This number is assumed to have increased, considering the rapid growth of India’s IT capital that is fueled by a thriving construction sector.

Migrants leave with their belonging in tow. Photo: Mohit Rao

“Disillusioned”

Mirajuddin, who migrated from Bhatat village near Gorakhpur (UP) to work in a construction site 11 months ago, couldn’t earn during the lockdown. “We were eating salt and rice for four days. It seemed like we’d starve,” he says. However, it was when the landlord of his rented house demanded the month’s rent that he knew he had to leave. “How do I find Rs 1,000 (the monthly rent) during this lockdown? We could no longer stay there. We had to go away,” he says. He had already walked 60 km when The Wire met him.

Ravi Pratap (27), who came from Gorakhpur five months ago, also decided to walk home after his landlord demanded that he pay his rent by May 10. “We have no hope of finding a home and job in Bengaluru. But, we have hope that if we keep walking, we may reach our homes,” he says.

The exodus continues despite construction activity picking up in the city.

Shyam, a Gond tribal from Sonbhadra district in UP, was working in a large residential construction complex, He was told by his contractor rations would only be provided if he resumed work. He refused to do so, as did many others from his camp. “We wanted to go back because we are worried about our families. We told them to release our payment for work done so that we could go back to our villages. We were abused and told that if we left, our previous payments would be cancelled,” he says.

The prospect of being trapped in a “filthy” tin-shed colony with no water and ration scared him. “We left at 4 am. I don’t know what lies ahead, but we will walk it back,” says Shyam.

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The highway

The experience of attempting to get a train ticket through the online portals had proved arduous for the migrant workers. Instead, the NH 44 has become their way out of a city they had been confined in.

The road simmers in the summer heat. The sparse vegetation by the highway provides little respite. At the Karnataka-Andhra Pradesh border, personnel at the check post have been forcing migrant labourers to return to Bengaluru. But even the police say that most have managed to slip past by walking through interior villages.

A police check post on the highway. Photo: Mohit Rao

It is their sheer resolve and the hope that the comfort of home, aided by the kindness of strangers – who offer rides, food and even money – that wills the migrant workers to make this treacherous journey.

On the first night on the highway, 25-year-old Akhilesh Kumar, who is walking towards Gauri Bazaar in Deoria district of Uttar Pradesh, had to flee cops by running into plantations and hiding in the fields. The police were attempting to round-up his group and transport them back to Bengaluru.

He hadn’t been paid since he came to the city in March to work for a construction contractor. Instead of sending money home, he was forced to take Rs 10,000 from his family, who had borrowed it from a village moneylender. “I’d come to the city to send money from my family. Now, I’ve put them in debt,” he said.

Akhilesh isn’t convinced by the state government’s announcement of inter-state trains for migrants like him. “They told us the lockdown would last only three weeks. They told us during lockdown, we would get rations. They told us on May 3, we can take trains home. We know we won’t get a chance to go on the trains even if we wait in queues for days. At least, with each day on the road, I know I’m closer home,” he says.

Mohit M. Rao is an independent journalist in Bengaluru. He tweets at @mohitmrao.

Understanding the Implications of the COVID-19 Lockdown on Migrant Workers’ Children

Apart from the economic distress faced by the families, attention must also be paid to forms of risks that will have long-lasting impacts on the health and overall well-being of children.

In an unfortunate incident reported on April 21, a 12-year-old child died after walking over 100 kilometres from her workplace in Bhupalpally district of Telangana to her native village in Chattisgarh’s Bijapur district. She was 11 kilometres away from home. At any other point in time, this may seem an extreme episode or an anomaly. But not today, when there have been far too many disturbing images and reports of millions of migrants walking back to their homes after a nationwide lockdown came into force in March.

The mass exodus of migrants from our cities has raised concerns over an impending economic crisis: What will happen to industries that are dependent on them for labour? While this articulation can be leveraged to bring attention to the plight of migrant workers, who have thus far been rendered invisible in our cities, such an economic focus could eclipse the needs of vulnerable groups who are not ‘economically productive’. Children of migrant families are one such vulnerable group.

So far, there has been a limited assessment or understanding of the implications that the COVID-19 lockdown has had on them. We present the case of three groups of children – those left behind, those who migrate with their parents, and those engaged in employment – that are likely to be most affected by the ongoing crisis.

The first group consists of children left behind in the villages by parent(s) who undertake employment elsewhere. They are dependent on remittances sent back home. This money is critical to their food security and to support healthcare expenditure. While there is no estimation on the number of children left behind, a guiding proxy is that approximately 10% of rural households in India receive remittances. In several parts of the country, remittances are the primary source of income for the sustenance of families. The reduction or elimination of parents’ wages will have immediate effects on food intake and health outcomes of children.

Migrant labourer families make their way back to Madhya Pradesh. Photo: Anup Datta

The second group are those children who migrate with their parents. In several parts of the country, migrant households undertake seasonal or short duration migration. This type of migration is more common among Scheduled Tribe and Scheduled Caste groups belonging to central and western India. Parents migrate with their children, especially when they are young and in need of extended care. Often, older children are also brought along to care for the younger ones. Usually engaged in the construction sector, brick kilns and agriculture sectors, these household members work together and are paid as a family unit. Studies have shown that migrant children experience poor nutritional and health outcomes as a result of poor conditions at their parents’ workplace.

Also Read: COVID-19: Is a Long Lockdown Counterproductive?

A 2014 Aide et Action study ‘Young migrants at worksite’, covering 361 informal worksites in seven Indian cities, revealed that 39% of children never enrolled in schools, and a large majority did not access Integrated Child Development Services – which is India’s longest running maternal and child health programme.

Almost all children were found to be living in hazardous, unhygienic conditions that are typical of informal worksites and labour colonies. Pending wages for previous work, as well as job losses encountered by migrant households, are only likely to exacerbate children’s experiences. After the Centre relaxed rules to allow migrant workers to leave to their native places, thousands of these families, with infants and toddlers in tow, will try to reach home, whether on foot or by transport that has been arranged by the state.

The third group includes children who undertake migration for employment. According to Census 2011, there are one lakh such children aged 10-14 and nine lakh aged 15-19. While a significant proportion are engaged in services and manufacturing sectors, it is not only loss of wages that is a concern but a range of other issues including physical abuse, as noted by child rights’ activists.

Long-lasting impacts

While direct cash transfers and other stimulus packages aim to reduce the economic stress experienced by families, it must be noted that the second and third groups of children discussed in the piece are likely to encounter several other forms of risks that will have long-lasting impacts on their health and overall well-being. As thousands of families remain stranded in various parts of the country, any travel advisories issued henceforth must prioritise families with children and ensure safe transport back home.

Though the pandemic is a first of its kind, similar scenarios have arisen at the time of other disasters. Post-disaster work in Odisha has shown that the mental and physical health of children need equal attention. Relief camps, labour colonies and transit camps at state borders, as well as quarantine facilities arranged at the block or panchayat level must arrange safe and child-friendly shelters that provide nutritious food, water and sanitation facilities for families. These spaces must respond to the psychosocial needs of children and adolescents, specifically those who are alone as they run the risk of abuse and exploitation.

Also Read: COVID-19 Crisis Will Push Millions of Vulnerable Children Into Child Labour

A large majority of migrant families hail from arid regions of the country, where agriculture is unviable, especially in summer. Under such circumstances, nutritional insecurity is likely to be the immediate risk in the villages for migrants and their families. Nutritional insecurity is known to cause negative health impacts in the short as well as long term. The Anganwadi centres in villages must extend their services to all households, even those who have not registered because they migrated. Similarly, states must ensure the continuance of other health services such as immunisation and maternal healthcare needs to all households. The COVID-19 pandemic is an extraordinary emergency, which requires extraordinary measures to safeguard the interests of children.

Divya Ravindranath is a researcher based at the Indian Institute for Human Settlements. Umi Daniel works as director, Migration & Education, Aide et Action.