Archive for the ‘Migrant Crisis’ Category

Left to replicate ‘Bihar model’ in Bengal – The Sunday Guardian

New Delhi: After coming up with a surprising performance by bagging 16 out of the 30 seats contested in the recent Bihar Assembly elections, the Left parties, which fought in alliance with the RJD, have gone back to re-strategising for themselves ahead of the 2021 Assembly elections in Bengal which was once a CPM stronghold.

Sources in the Bengal unit of the CPM said that the Bihar results have come as a surprise to them as well, since they were not expecting such an outstanding performance by the party and this has in itself helped energise the cadre in Bengal which is going to take on the Mamata Banerjee-led Trinamool Congress and the BJP just six months from now.

We are trying to figure out the factors that worked in favour of us. We will replicate the same methods that worked for us in Bihar. As per our preliminary understanding, migrant issues, the issue of Covid-19 pandemic which we strongly raised, where millions of people were left to fend for themselves, have caught the attention of the marginalised sections of the society. It seems that they have once again reposed their faith in the Left ideology that constantly works for the upliftment of the downtrodden, a Left leader from Bengal told this correspondent.

For the first time in Bihar, the Left partiescomprising the CPI(M). CPI and the CPI(M-L)fought under an alliance and this, the Left leaders believe, worked in their favour. Some Left leaders that this correspondent spoke to said that earlier, the Left votes, which used to be fragmented, have been consolidated this time since they decided to fight as one. Left leaders also credit RJD chief and former Bihar Chief Minister Lalu Prasad Yadav, who is currently in jail, for bringing all the Left parties together this time around and solidifying the Mahagathbandhan alliance.

In the 2015 Bihar Assembly elections, the Left parties together were able to garner just three seats. While the CPI and the CPIM scored zero that year, it was only the CPI(ML) which managed to get three seats. Left leaders from Bengal also say that, as part of their re-drawn strategy for Bengal, all the Left parties this time are likely to fight the 2021 Assembly elections together, unlike in the previous years when the CPI(ML) and the SUCI would contest on their own. Apart from this, the CPM, which is already in an alliance with the Congress in Bengal, would continue with the alliance and go into the 2021 Assembly Sabha polls with the Congress.

Taking a cue from Bihar, the Left is also pushing towards garnering the young voters in the state for which the party has already started reaching out to the youths in Bengal. According to CPM leaders from Bengal, the party has garnered a lot of votes from the youths this time around in Bihar and keeping that in mind, the Left parties, which have already been promoting youth leaders since the last few years, will work towards pushing more young faces forward.

Speaking to The Sunday Guardian, Dr Fuad Halim, senior leader of the CPM from Bengal, claimed, It has been decided that we have to strengthen the Left parties and include the broader Left intelligentsia and then construct a Left and secular democratic alliance and this is what the Mahagathbandhan is all about. We will do the same thing in Bengal, as we appeal to all the secular democratic forces to come forward and form a formidable force to take on the BJP and the Mamata Banerjee-led TMC government. As in Bihar, people have found that the only reliable and concrete alternative to the BJP is the Left organisation; this will also be seen in Bengal. We have also got six times more number of seats in Bihar compared to last time and this shows that the consolidation of the Left has benefited and this is what will be done for Bengal as well.

The Left also believes that the distribution of tickets, which were mostly given to people belonging from the intellectual community, has helped them in Bihar and the party is likely to repeat the same in Bengal. Left party sources from Bengal hinted that they already have a sizable number of intelligentsia with them, they would consider giving tickets to them since they appeal to the youth voters. Apart from this, the Left parties are also going to reach out to the most marginalised sections of society in Bengal who have been affected by the Covid-19 pandemic and the Amphan super cyclone in Bengal that devasted parts of the state earlier this year. Since then, they say that a huge number of young cadres of the CPM has been working on the ground with them and they believe that the party has been able to win their trust as the alternative party in the interiors of Bengal. There has been a resurgence in the support base of the CPM and Left parties in various districts in Bengal and this has been primarily because of the migrants who have come back with a great degree of discontent with regards to the handling of the migrant crisis by the state as well as the Centre and the CPM has been with them ever since the pandemic has hit. Our cadres have been on the ground with them, taking care of their needs; so definitely, they are going to repose their faith in the Left parties. Dr Fuad Halim claimed.

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Left to replicate 'Bihar model' in Bengal - The Sunday Guardian

Nightmare on asylum street: His House, the horror film about the migrant crisis – The Guardian

There has never been a whole lot of overlap between the social realism of Ken Loach and the twisted horror of A Nightmare on Elm Street. But thats about to change with the release of His House, a strikingly original debut from the gifted British film-maker Remi Weekes, which was snapped up by Netflix at Sundance earlier this year for an eight-figure sum.

His House follows a South Sudanese couple Wunmi Mosaku as Rial, Sope Dirisu as her husband Bol who are dumped on a bleak Essex housing estate while their appeal for asylum is considered. Their temporary home is blighted by peeling walls, dodgy wiring and hostile neighbours. Worse than that, its haunted. If they flee, Rial and Bol risk deportation for violating bail. Stay, however, and they will need to do battle with the wall-dwelling creatures, which appear to have followed them from Africa.

This isnt the first film to use the conventions of horror to address this modern crisis: Mati Diops Atlantics imagined the women of Dakar being possessed by the ghosts of migrants who had perished at sea. But it is undoubtedly the scariest. His House thrives on two types of threat, the social and the supernatural, each intensifying the other. Horror audiences will be accustomed to figures lurking in the back of the frame its just that, in this case, theres no knowing whether it will be a scuttling monster, a meddling immigration official, or a lout.

When the idea of a horror story involving asylum-seekers was first proposed to Weekes by producers, he was unsure if he had any personal connection to the material. Although his grandparents are from St Lucia and Sierra Leone, he was raised in London. But once I thought about it, I was reminded of how I felt growing up in this country, says the 33-year-old, sitting in his home with a bicycle leaning against the wall behind him.

Youre torn. Theres one side that wants to assimilate and be accepted by a culture that is ambivalent toward you. Then another side wants to reject that, to be proud of where youre from, to rebel against the norms. Thats always been in the background of conversations with my family and friends: which parts of us are English and which are from other places?

The theme of tribalism underpins His House. Back in South Sudan, Rial scarred herself with the markings of two warring factions to improve her chances of survival. Now in Britain, she finds it harder to move between tribes. In the films most provocative scene, she approaches a group of black British teenagers for help, only to receive a chastening reminder that skin colour is no guarantee of solidarity.

Weekes consulted with Waging Peace, an organisation that opposes genocide and human rights violations in Sudan, and Right to Remain, which helps people navigate the UK asylum system. This was to ensure a realistic grounding for a story that takes flight into the nightmarish. It was important to know how asylum seekers are treated, he says. The draconian rules, the uncaring bureaucracy, it all shows this lack of empathy.

Physical displacement and disorientation become, in the film, a breeding ground for internal horrors. Being effectively under house arrest, you can really take a battering psychologically. All the spooky stuff that happens in the house I wanted to treat as tangible. Whether its real or not doesnt matter it feels real to the characters.

Weekes first made his name as one half of the partnership Tell No One, turning out playful, effects-driven video shorts with his childhood friend Luke White. The duos name suggests the sinister or the secretive, though nothing could be further from the truth. We just wanted to put stuff online without telling anyone, says Weekes. It was more a reference to our psychology, to not letting ego get in the way. Were very understated people. Get us in a meeting and we go quiet.

Posting their shorts on YouTube and Vimeo, the pair attracted commissions from fashion and advertising. Those films have an enchanting simplicity: in one, coloured umbrellas pop open like vibrant floral blooms, while another shows arms layered digitally on screen to create a tree of limbs.

I thought the laughter caused by tickling could make a horror film

His House also features a multiple-arm scene, as does Weekess Channel 4 horror short Tickle Monster. Does he have a fear of limbs? I dont think so, he says with a sheepish giggle. Tickle Monster came from a conversation I had with a friend. He was dating someone who kept tickling him. Even though he hated it and it made him feel awful, his laughter seemed to the other person like some weird form of consent. I thought, That could be a horror film.

He has also encountered another kind of monster: Harvey Weinstein, who was desperate to get his paws on His House, back when it was a hot script doing the rounds. When I turned the Weinstein Company down, they got upset and tried to sue me. Theyre very aggressive about getting the rights to films. If it wasnt for the #MeToo movement that blew up the company, they probably would have had their way. Now thats a scary story.

His House is in selected cinemas now, and on Netflix from 30 October.

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Nightmare on asylum street: His House, the horror film about the migrant crisis - The Guardian

Documenting India’s migrant crisis with smartphones and bicycles – Journalism.co.uk

When India announced a national lockdown at the end of March, it caused an exodus of migrant workers and their families from Delhi back to their villages across the country.

This mass movement, combined with vanishing wages and the coronavirus pandemic, sparked a humanitarian crisis. When the lockdown was extended until the end of May, multimedia news outlet Asiaville decided to take a different approach to cover the crisis.

Two journalists set out on a 600km trip to document the journey many Indians were facing: uprooted families, disrupted work and fears for their health.

Armed with their mobile phones and bicycles, Asiaville associate editor Sruthin Lal and journalist Dibyaudh Das created a three-part documentary series called Corona Cyclips.

Lal spoke to Journalism.co.uk about the project, its inspiration and its challenges. The interview has been edited for brevity and clarity.

At what point did you decide you wanted - or needed - to go out into the field and do this documentary?

The main tipping point was the visuals. We were seeing all these city-centric visuals of the migrant crisis, like around Dehli, so we wanted to know what happens to the people travelling through all the routes. We wanted to find out what happens if you travel like a migrant.

Even though the idea came in the first week of May, we had to come up with a workable plan first. We set out on 21 May because it was a logistical nightmare. There were no hotels, people would not allow you to stay at their own places because of coronavirus and Dehli was having a huge infection rate.

You were witnessing a humanitarian crisis happening in your own country. What went through your head in terms of how you wanted to cover the stories of migrant workers?

We did not want to be that person describing the plight of the other person from a car, with a TV crew and everything packed. This was such a significant moment in our history that we thought we should experience it first-hand.

The old-school way of doing it meant you needed expensive equipment to send out into the field. But you cannot do this as a single person or two people. Mobile phones allow you to do any sort of crazy journalistic experiments. We immediately wanted to make use of this minimal gear.

First, we wanted the first-person narrative to put ourselves in the story - some journalists may not agree with this style. Secondly, we wanted to make use of new media, the power of mobile technology and social media. We were live-tweeting and live-blogging. With certain stories we put out, people instantly reached out. We were reporting in four languages, and the Hindi vertical gained the most traction.

Mobile phones allow you to do any sort of crazy journalistic experiments.Sruthin Lal

That is one of the things which kept us going: it was 600km. I had some training but my colleague, Dibyaudh Das, never did anything like that. But he has got the attributes of a young journalist: very hard working and just wants to go out and do it.I did not know if we would be able to finish it physically, but that instant feedback drove both of us to do it.

The physical toll of the journey could have been matched by the mental toll. Which one was greater?

Both were tough. In the initial days, our bodies were tired but as days went on and we started witnessing these stories, it took a toll on us mentally, especially on Dibyaudh who is much younger.

I had that editor's job of telling him what was the story and when not to get emotionally attached. I said to him 'Our job is to get the story out. If you start feeling the pain of what you see out there, we won't be able to finish the trip'.

There was one particular moment when we met migrant workers that were really hoping to be reunited with their families for Eid, but they had been walking for three days in 45 degrees heat. There were a lot of similar situations. It was very difficult.

You managed to speak to so many people during your trip and they all seemed so willing to stop and speak to you. How did you do that?

This was the advantage of the way we travelled. Nothing was planned besides our route, our only plan was just to go after what you see. Whenever we saw people walking, we just got our phones out, started talking and they told us their stories. Everything was so natural.

Everyone appreciated that we were on the ground reporting, they were more receptive to us and realised they we were travelling like them. That really helped us connect with people more because we understood their pain. Even the police in Uttar Pradesh could not believe we were journalists and doing this trip. When we showed them our press passes, they thought we were crazy.

What tech did you bring out on the road, and what were the pros and cons?

Dibyaudh used an iPhone 11, and I used an iPhone XR and a GoPro on my helmet. We also used lapel mics because we wanted good audio quality.

We carried a tripod as well but we never had the time use it properly. It was a monopod - like a selfie-stick - that we mainly used for interviewing at a distance because of the coronavirus. We just tied the mic around it as an extension, not the purpose it was made for. It was a lesson for us because it ended up being extra baggage, you only need the bare minimum. We were so worried because we were travelling from Dehli and talking to so many people, we did not want to spread anything.

We also had two or three mobile charging banks for emergency purposes. At night we put everything on charge, and then put the power banks in our bags to try and solar charge. A heatwave was going on so most of the time mobile phones stopped working. iPhones cannot work in 45 degrees heat, so there was a lot of turning off and on. GoPro was better in those situations.

Where did you manage to sleep and charge up?

I knew two or three people with government connections, so again, the fact that we travelled on bicycles helped because they felt like they had to help us. One government official called up some people in districts to open up government guest houses just for us.

We initially thought we could sleep rough but in the end, that would not have been possible because proper sleep proved necessary.

How did you assure the safety of yourself and your colleague?

We were really worried because Uttar Pradesh has a bad reputation. My room-mate is from this state and he gave me a very bad impression of it. Generally, he was saying, people are not that friendly to strangers and we might get attacked by the gangs out there. Now that people have lost jobs and we were carrying expensive equipment, they might try to rob us. Nothing like that happened, fortunately. People were so friendly because they appreciated what we did.

We avoided travelling at night, so we planned our trips to start at 5 oclock in the morning and cycle until 11 o'clock. We would then break and set off again until about 4 or 5 oclock to start recording. We would stop cycling by about 7 oclock.

Reflecting on the journey, which moment stands out to you?

It is hard to think of one, the whole trip was amazing. But one moment that comes to mind is a woman I met. I told her I was a journalist and she invited me to her house. She showed me another two children living next door, they were separated from their mum and dad in Mumbai. They did not have the money to return by train. This family was Muslim and the woman was Hindu.

Hindus and Muslims are often portrayed fighting but this woman was taking care of these two children. She needed help though. I put out her story (below) and many people instantly reached out to help out, giving money and emergency rations. I felt really good about that story.

What did you learn from this project?

You will not find many stories about women in the documentary. Since both of us were men, women were reluctant to speak to us or men would not allow us to speak to women. So we could not cover the impact this crisis had on women, which we regret. We did not omit it, this highlights the importance of gender diversity. It was a learning for me and I will keep this in mind for the next time we go out in the field.

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Documenting India's migrant crisis with smartphones and bicycles - Journalism.co.uk

Precarious Lives, Invisible Deaths and Political Apathy: What India’s Migrant Crisis and State Neglect Speak of Our Times – The New Leam

In the Zero Hour of Parliament, the Central government was asked if it noted the number of deaths of migrant labourers walking back home during Central government-enforced Lockdown and was compensation paid to the next of kin of those deceased? To this, the government replied in five words that echo through our deeply disturbing reality, no such data is maintained. It is saying that this is not an issue that the state could bother itself with. It is a reality that the state could not be invested in. What was further deafening is the silence over it, the dismissal and the resignation of the vocal sections of society. No outrage anywhere, no questions asked, no expression of solidarity. There clearly is a hierarchy of lives and of deaths for the most vocal sections of our society, and it is evident in the blas and blatant admission of the government that No such data exists.

Invisible Deaths and Precarious Lives

Death, much like life is only real in how intimately it is experienced. What lives are to be read, which ones can be suppressed in the dominant discourse. What deaths must move a nation to collectively experienced overwhelming emotions of lament and outrage bordering criminal outburst. However, there is a relation between the lives and lived experiences that are suppressed in dominant discourse and deaths that are distant and invisible, even if the corpse lay in the backyard. These deaths, much like the lives these were, are distant not by virtue of physical separation but by mental separation. These realities occur to us as incapable of rising from our backyards, catching up to us, and holding us responsible. We express shock at the visuals of a toddler trying to pull away the shroud covering his dead mothers corpse, while simultaneously looking for ways to build our distance from it. The goriness of death is hard to ignore so we watch, even if somewhat voyeuristically but we quickly reclaim ourselves from it, establish distance. This distance restores the life-affirming lies that provide a precious sense of security, in a context (like India) where escaping hunger, death and precarity is a marker of privilege. This sense of privilege breeds the political apathy that is today reflected in a majoritarian state. A state that, courtesy its majoritarian support base, no longer feels the need to shroud the goriness of its apathy towards the lesser poorer subjects. Unlike, the popular saying people get the government that they deserve. This socio-political apathy, the ability to identify with and feel invested in groups other than ones own, is the opposite of empathy, the kind that brings people out in solidarity.

Deaths that are reported as big numbers inspire awe and shock but not empathy. It is unfortunate to know about deaths happening but not really moved by it. The socio-political apathy makes deaths seem like an inevitability with some sections of the population, so a farmer commits suicide or a Dalit woman in Uttar Pradesh is raped and killed, the privileged masses read inevitability of those deaths in the precarity of those lives. It is not a matter we expect the political agency to address. Thats beyond the point of redemption. How is the state exonerated by the privileged masses? Why does such a blatant exhibition of socio-political apathy not inspire solidarity? Have we become numb, then why are those visuals of a dead mother on News Media, encapsulated by advertisements for middle-class consumer products?

State Apathy and Suppression of Lived Experience of Precarity

While the government was appealing to the apathy of privileged masses and claiming oblivion on deaths, Stranded Workers Action Network (SWAN) in a report released state that the total number of migrant workers who died due to lockdown-migration related issues stands at a whopping 971. Of these, starvation and financial distress (combined) claimed 216 lives, lack of medical care took 77 lives, 209 died in road or train accidents, deaths in Shramik Trains (reported by railway ministry) were 96, suicides 133, deaths in quarantine centers stood at 49, lockdown associated crimes claimed 18 lives, police brutality claimed 12, alcohol withdrawal killed 49, exhaustion claimed 48 lives, and 65 died of unclassified reasons. This is a well-documented record of a disturbingly high number of human casualties caused by manufactured humanitarian crisis.

It is further clear how far the state is removing itself from responsibility by claiming that the lockdown-migration was set-off due to panic created by fake news. The government was prepared to meet the essential requirements of all. This assurance does not agree with the reports that kept pouring during the lockdown. SWAN reported that about 85% of those who had returned home or were in transit had paid to go back home. Two-thirds of these had paid upwards of Rs. 1000 to make the journey. It also reported that 80% of 5911 individuals who reached SWAN, had received no rations from the government.

At this point, it is clear that the lived experiences and death are being suppressed by a dominant narrative. The narrative that is being built through these two responses (we have no data, and fake news and ignorance killed those people) is much in line with explanations littered through television news media at the time. It resonates with the questions posed to the migrant labourers as they were making a perilous journey risking being assaulted by the police, starved and stranded. Why do you want to go back? reflects how distant our media, our news, our privileged audience has become from ground realities, lived experiences of these workers. The inability to understand why would they want to leave, why cant they just eat the rice and dal that is given in ration; why to risk the lives of their children with disease and death; why not wait for the lockdown to be over; why not maintain social distancing; is representative of this mental distance we have cultivated. The utter poverty of imagination that facilitates a distance and the sense of privilege that comes from being distant. A distance that then informs our fragile sense of security. This distance the privileged vocal sections of society live in reduces the lived experiences of precarious lives irrational, ill-informed, almost stupid accidents borne out of individual choices; and deaths then appear inevitability: sad, unfortunate but acceptable. The state apathy then is one (of many) instances of power going awry, more importantly, it is representative of broader relations of power, not between the state and the subjects but between the privileged and the precarious sections of the population. The state is merely reproducing these dynamics of power, and so the silence of popular news media and major newspapers, the silence and glossing over by the privileged section of the population is understandable.

The State, The Privileged and The Precarious

What is the power dynamics of the state, the precarious sections of the population and the privileged sections of the population (not inclusive of capitalists, but certainly shaped by market forces). The socio-political apathy rests on distance from precariousness for the privileged, as I have already illustrated above. This apathy reflects in distancing of oneself from responsibility and political agency characterized by two oft-heard sentences (but what can we do about it?). The privileged section distances itself from the state, while still empathizing with it in that it is governments job to protect the vulnerable, but how much can the government also do. The base understanding is that this isnt OUR issue. The privileged vocal section will not express outrage at the ever-growing crisis of farmer suicides and farmer agitations in this country but the day prices of common goods like vegetable increase, we outrage, we question, we resist. Even so, the perception of what constitutes a worthy issue is defined by echoes within the privileged vocal section. The more resonance, the more confident one feels to lend it ones precious voice. Further, if solidarity and vocalizing threaten our precious sense of security and suggests we may lose our privileged distance we recede.

Meanwhile, for the precarious section of the population, the poor, a long history of apathy has sedimented into resignation from exercising political agency, resulting in the understanding that this government is not for US. The realization that change in government wouldnt bring any change has been hammered down by years of the lived experience of precarity. Their lived experience of precarity is a direct product of failed social and economic networks of support, making them disproportionately vulnerable to violence and arbitrary rules. Those who are ruling have changed, but the power dynamics have not because the power dynamics are not just between the state and precarious populations but also between precarious and privileged sections of populations (which hasnt changed and is reflected in state attitude).

The Nation States, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak in her essay on cultural translation, highlights are built upon the backs of stateless people, and in the process of its formulation also creates stateless people. These stateless people are the precarious lives and the inevitable deaths. Who counts as a citizen is not a simple direct consequence of residing within the national boundaries. There clearly is a gradation of who counts as a citizen, and how much. Spivak notes that indigenous poor in many of these contexts have acquired dominant language in order to be represented by politics and law. Their existence in the urban spaces is contingent on their ability to make themselves count and politically organize and lobby. In this organizing and lobbying, the individual experiences of precarity lead to the formation of a solidarity and sometimes emplacement (Roy, 2017). However, instances like those of state-imposed lockdown break the networks of negotiation and support that these vulnerable sections depend on in one quick stroke. Therefore, the lived experience of precarity is collective experience but without any support to be able to dig ones heels and negotiate. The precarious do not get a chance to performatively claim a right where one has been denied. As in this case, with a four-hour notice, the precarious were denied any possibility of collective action or organizing, any possibility to dialoguethe possibility of using other forms of support to address crisis/threat in one domain. For instance, using their networks to find a job when theyve been laid off unceremoniously or using their economic and spatial foothold in the city to negotiate with political pressure. Lockdown was a sudden, complete and all-encompassing crisis with multiple networks of possible social, political and economic support being snapped in one stroke. Rendering the collective experience of precarity extremely individual lived reality, a scenario where numbers do not translate to significance as in electoral process.

It seemed until this point that the state apathy reflects in the reduction of deaths into ball-park figures, obfuscated facts and abstract reasoning. The statistical records of those who died each year, clubbed into categories bracketed by vague explanations had so far typified the states indifference. In the politics of independent India, the 971 who have died have been reduced to further lesser than a cold ball-park figure by state. State and privileged sections socio-political apathy has reduced their lived experience of precarity and their deaths to five words, No such data is maintained.

Smriti Singh teaches Sociology at the Department of Social Sciences and Humanities, Indraprastha Institute of Information Technology Delhi.

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Precarious Lives, Invisible Deaths and Political Apathy: What India's Migrant Crisis and State Neglect Speak of Our Times - The New Leam

The pandemic has created a second crisis in India the rise of child trafficking – Boston News, Weather, Sports | WHDH 7News

(CNN) One evening in August, a 14-year-old boy snuck out of his home and boarded a private bus to travel from his village in Bihar to Jaipur, a chaotic, crowded and historical city 800 miles away in Indias Rajasthan state.

He and his friends had been given 500 rupees (about $7) by a man in their village to go on vacation in Jaipur, said the boy, who CNN is calling Mujeeb because Indian law forbids naming suspected victims of child trafficking.

As the bus entered Jaipur, it was intercepted by police.

The man was arrested and charged under Indias child trafficking laws, along with two other suspects. Nineteen children, including Mujeeb, were rescued. Jaipur police said they were likely being taken to bangle factories to be sold as cheap labor.

In India, children are allowed to work fromthe age of 14, but only in family-related businesses and never in hazardous conditions. But the countrys economy has been hit hard by the coronavirus pandemic and many have lost their jobs, leading some families to allow their children to work to bring in anything they can.

Making colored lac bangles like those sold in Jaipur is hot and dangerous work, requiring themanipulation of lacquermelted over burning coal. Bangle manufacturing is on the list of industries that arent allowed to employ children under 18.

In recent years, India hasstrengthened its lawson child labor, but in the past six months with Covid-19 taking a toll on the economy that work has started to unravel.

Children have never faced such crisis, said 2014 Nobel Peace Prize winner Kailash Satyarthi, whose organizationBachpan Bachao Andolan(Save the Childhood Movement) works to protect vulnerable children. This is not simply the health crisis or economic crisis. This is the crisis of justice, of humanity, of childhood, of the future of an entire generation.

When India went into a strict lockdown in March, schools and workplaces closed. Millions of children were deprived of the midday meal they used to receive at school and many people lost their jobs.

Traffickers have exploited the situation by targeting desperate families, activists said.

Between April and September, 1,127 children suspected of being trafficked were rescued across India and 86 alleged traffickers were arrested, according toBachpan Bachao Andolan.

Most of the children came from rural areas of poorer states, such as Jharkhand or Bihar. Pramila Kumari, the chairwoman of Bihars Commission For Protection Of Child Rights, said the government commission had received more complaints of trafficking during the pandemic.

Child trafficking, when young people are tricked, forced or persuaded to leave their homes and then exploited, forced to work or sold, can occur in several ways. Experts say sometimes, children are lured with false promises without their parents ever knowing, like Mujeeb. Other times, desperate parents hand their children over to work so they can send money home.

Rescued children describe being forced to work without pay in grueling conditions. Some say they have also experienced physical abuse. Without resources and under the control of traffickers, many have no way to leave or communicate with their families.

Nearly always, the trafficker is known to the local community, if not a member of the community themselves, according to childrens rights activists and police.

And the children most at risk are those in families facing acute poverty a symptom of the countrys massive wealth inequality, which has been exacerbated by the pandemic.

After India went into total lockdown in March, more than half of all migrant households in Bihar state lost all their income,according to a studyconducted in July by UNICEF and Population Council Institute.

The region is home to millions of migrant workers, including Mujeebs father, a construction worker in Delhi.

The state government provided food rations but only 42% of migrant households found the aid sufficient, according to the study.

By the time the federal government began lifting lockdown measures in late May, poorer families were struggling. So many migrant workers went home during the lockdown that demand for cheap labor in Indias cities soared as the country reopened.

Indian police said this desperation, demand for workers, and the reopening of state borders created the perfect environment for traffickers to exploit children.

Now post the lockdown, factories are re-opening and the migrant labor is returning (and) what we are seeing is that children are coming with them, said Shiv Narayan, the station police officer in Jaipurs Bhatta Basti neighborhood, which is home to many small-scale industries and bangle factories.

A survey by Satyarthis Childrens Foundation of 245 households in rural areas of five poorer states, including Bihar, found that 21% of respondents were potentially ready to send their children under 18 to urban areas for work due to their increased economic vulnerability.

But its not just parents who feel they have no other choice the children themselves may feel compelled to go to earn money for their hungry families. Mujeeb said he had brought up the possibility of leaving before with his grandmother, but she had always discouraged him, despite the familys troubles.

There are no earnings here, said his grandmother, who didnt want to be named. How do I feed the child? I told him not to go, but he left with nothing to eat at home.

Fifteen-year-old Aman (not his real name) from Madhubani district in Bihar, also left home during the pandemic to earn money for his family. His father, a daily wage laborer, lost his job during the lockdown leaving the family with very little to eat, said Aman, whose identity cannot be revealed under Indian laws to protect trafficked minors.

When there is tension in the village, shortage of food, then one is forced to think of going elsewhere to work, said Aman. I thought if I go and get a job, I can send some money home for my family to eat.

Schools were still shut and, as the eldest child in his family, he felt a responsibility to help. So, after borders reopened, he decided to go to Jaipur with a man who promised paid work there. Like Mujeeb, Aman got on the bus without telling his family, knowing they might try to stop him. His bus was right behind Mujeebs, according to police.

When the police intercepted the buses and arrested the traffickers, they brought Aman, Mujeeb, and 17 other children to a shelter.

Soon after arriving, Mujeeb said he was eager to go home. Aman said there was nothing awaiting him but the same poverty that drove him to leave.

We dont even have enough to eat, he said. So, my only option is to drop out of school and work to help my family.

If Mujeeb and Aman hadnt been rescued by police on their way to Jaipur, they might have ended up like Nishad, a 12-year-old boy who was allegedly forced to work in a bangle factory under brutal conditions.

Nishad, whose real identity cant be revealed under Indian law, was brought to Jaipur from Bihar by an alleged trafficker just before the March lockdown. Nishad claimed the man locked him and five other boys in a dingy room without any windows and forced them to make bangles for 15 hours a day. There was no way to call authorities or even contact their families, he said.

He made us work for so long and if we didnt work, he would hit us. We were not allowed to step outside. He said that if we got out the police would arrest us, said Nishad.

He paid my parents 1,500 rupees (about $21). (He said) I have to work to pay back that debt. I shouldnt complain since I get a meal at night, at around midnight, and about 50 rupees (70 cents) every Sunday.

Nishad and the other children worked in one factory for five months before police raided it in August after receiving a tip-off from child rights activists at Bhatta Basti.

The man Nishad says mistreated him has been charged under Indias Child Labor Act and Juvenile Justice Act and is now in police custody. Before his arrest, the alleged trafficker told CNN that he pays parents a few thousand rupees to bring their children to Jaipur for work and a better life.

I go and get poor children from Bihar and pay their parents 3,000 rupees (about $40), he said. I bring the children in a bus to work here in factories.

Jaipur is a major destination for traffickers to sell children for labor because its home to bangle factories that perform difficult, intricate work.

In north Jaipur alone, there have been up to 20 police raids and 12 registered cases of child trafficking and child labor since early June, when the lockdown was eased, according to police.

In Jaipur, 50 children were rescued in the last two weeks of August, said Police Inspector Rajendra Khandelwal, whose anti-human trafficking unit conducted the raids on Nishads factory. The 50 children included Mujeeb, Aman and the other children on the buses from Bihar.

Satyarthi says his organization has been tracing the movement of traffickers from source areas like Bihar, as well as rescuing trafficked children from railway stations or transport hubs. He and other rights activists say the government isnt taking sufficient action on a national level.

The governments Trafficking of Persons (Prevention, Protection and Protection and Rehabilitation) Bill was passed by parliament in 2018, but lapsed when the Modi governments first term ended before it could be approved by the upper house.

A revised version was due to be considered by ministersearlier this year, but it hasnt progressed to parliament due to the coronavirus outbreak.

Activists warn that if more urgent action isnt taken to address the problems known to cause child trafficking, the current crisis could reverse decades of progress.

To help avoid that, the government needs to do more to get children back in school after the lockdown, activists say.

Kumari, of Bihar governments child rights commission, said they have formed an anti-child trafficking task force in response to the spike in cases. They also issued advisories to local officials and hold virtual meetings on the issue, she said.

About the rise in child trafficking, we have sent letters to all district magistrates and NGOs, that if a case like this comes up, there should be immediate action taken, she said.

Niranjanaradhya V. P., a development educationist at the National Law School, believes that 30% of children who left school due to the pandemic lockdown will never return. He says the governmentsNational Education Policy, which aims to formalize early childhood schooling and expand tertiary education, has no measures in place to address this dropout.

Satyarathi says children who leave school early are the most vulnerable to exploitation.

Those who drop out and are not able to come back to classes, they will not be sitting free at home, Satyarathi said. They will be trafficked, they would become child laborers, they will get married at an early age, beg on streets or even become child criminals and child soldiers.

He said he has written to national and local authorities to express his concerns.

Aman, the 15-year-old boy, wants to go back to school, but without enough money for food, let alone a computer for online classes during the pandemic, an education doesnt seem possible.

The boys stayed at the shelter for about a month before officials arranged for them to go home.

When asked if he preferred to stay in the shelter or return home, Aman looked off in the distance. He took a deep breath and a long pause.

Ill go where I have to go to survive, he finally answered. I dont have an option, do I?

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