Welcome to Aajeevika's #InternationalMigrantsDay campaign, “Badalta kaam, badalta daam,” where we centre the diverse coping mechanisms of #migrant workers as they face depressed wages, wage theft, and body burdens amidst a post-lockdown economic ‘recovery.’ (1/8)
Our narratives come from migrants who work in Mumbai’s informal manufacturing and construction sectors. Specifically, they live and work in Khairani Road & Netaji Nagar Nagar: industrial-residential neighborhoods in Sakinaka, in the city’s L-ward. (2/8) #InternationalMigrantsDay
These neighbourhoods areas are home to thousands of informal manufacturing & recycling units producing garments, metal moulds, pipes, stationery, furniture, e-waste, hospital waste & constitute local, regional or global value chains ending up as far as Sudan & Nigeria. (3/8)
Workers here perform extremely hazardous work: handling toxic chemicals, working old second-hand machines, and living onsite with the perpetual and lethal risk of fires engulfing their ill-ventilated and cramped units. (4/8)
epw.in/journal/2020/1…
Since Sakinaka’s survivalist units depend on the volume of the production, migrant workers’ wages are tied to their piece outputs or number of machine hours—forcing 14 hour work days and immense physical costs to survive. (5/8)
Their employers (former workers) are marginal & remain so bec of intense market competition, lack of capital & credit, and the state’s gaze of the ‘illegality’ of their work. As such, workers rarely successfully bargain for better work conditions. (6/8)
scroll.in/article/968471…
In the post-lockdown ‘recovery,’ both workers and marginal employers have been compelled to develop new ways to survive: relying on relationships with old vendors to get work, changing trades altogether & working at lower wages if it means more consistent access to work. (7/8)
“Badalta kaam, Badalta daam” highlights 5 stories today to bring to attention how, without state & industry support, workers at the lowest ends of value chains plan to survive a hostile economy & city. (8/8)

Follow here at 11am and 5pm for our stories! #InternationalMigrantsDay

• • •

Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to force a refresh
 

Keep Current with Aajeevika Bureau

Aajeevika Bureau Profile picture

Stay in touch and get notified when new unrolls are available from this author!

Read all threads

This Thread may be Removed Anytime!

PDF

Twitter may remove this content at anytime! Save it as PDF for later use!

Try unrolling a thread yourself!

how to unroll video
  1. Follow @ThreadReaderApp to mention us!

  2. From a Twitter thread mention us with a keyword "unroll"
@threadreaderapp unroll

Practice here first or read more on our help page!

More from @AajeevikaBureau

19 Dec
Story 8: Mehboob Ali

"Our employer was struggling to pay the garment unit's rent, so he moved to a smaller unit. He might move again, who knows? But there is no other work in the market. We are getting paid less, but we will have to move with him wherever he goes." (1/4) Image
Before the lockdown, Mehboob's unit employed 7 workers: now his employer has only hired 2 to cut costs. While overall orders has drastically reduced, Mehboob personally has to cover up for the labour shortage by working longer hours for the same pay of INR 9,000. (2/4)
As a salaried worker, his pay will not increase regardless of the work done under 8 hours. W/o many orders, there is no scope for overtime work & payment. But with a decimated job market, Mehboob can't bargain for higher wages: the employer will simply hire someone else. (3/4)
Read 4 tweets
19 Dec
Story 7/10: Mainuddin

"Earlier we used to work from 9am-10pm. Now all our work is finished by 7pm. We are paid per piece, so if there is no work how can we earn? Even the salaried staff is not making enough: from INR 20,000, for some of them it has gone to INR 13,000." (1/4) Image
Mainuddin has been working at his garment unit for 8 years as a karigar/skilled worker & has always been paid on a piece-rate basis. While the rate has remained the same, the lockdown has gutted the garment industry. With no orders or 'kaam' he earn less from fewer pieces. (2/4)
"Workers who used to work fast, they used to earn around INR 1000 a day," Mainuddin says. "Even at an average speed, workers like me earned INR 5-600. But now speed doesn’t matter, we can make at most INR 400-450 a day, because there is simply no work available." (3/4)
Read 4 tweets
19 Dec
Story 6/10: Ramesh

"I got INR 420 for 8 hours before lockdown when our [metal making] unit was running full-fledged. Plus overtime for 3-4 hours, so with 12 hours I made INR 700. Now without enough work, there is no overtime, not even 8 hours. What I earn is what I spend." (1/5)
Ramesh has been working in Khairani Road's metal fabrication industry (pictured) for over 11 years. At his current unit, he must 'punch' in to report to work: even a half hour delay costs him an hour of his wages. Currently, he is paid INR 420 for 8 hours plus overtime. (2/5) Image
Without any work orders after the lockdown, there is not even 8 hours of work, let alone the 12 hours that would bring him at least INR 700 per day. "We spend INR 300 on food and rent, so to have any money in our hands we have to do overtime. 8 hours of work isn't enough." (3/5)
Read 5 tweets
18 Dec
Story 5/10: Sadar

"The vendors are taking a shortcut to reduce the jeans manufacturing cost by making the [design] pattern simple. So how will the employer pay us [well]? Only with a fair rate can he keep more staff in the unit! Until then, we have to work on Sundays." (1/5)
Sadar describes the precarity of garment units: with fierce competition, they must undercut each other to appease large vendors, who extract value from informal workers without fair compensation. "The effort to stitch jeans is the same but the earnings have dropped," he says.
Squeezed by tight value chain margins, Sadar's employer cannot afford more karigars or staff to run the unit, so Sadar and other workers have no days off in the week. Earlier, he stitched only one part of a pair of jeans: now he performs multiple tasks, learning on the job.
Read 4 tweets
18 Dec
Story 4/10: Atiullah

"Before lockdown, we had 17 workers doing two 12 hour shifts a day. Now, only 10 of us are working: we still have 12 hours and somehow have to manage the overall production. Since the unit is not profitable, the employer cannot hire more workers." (1/5)
In Atiullah's unit, the employer earlier employed 17 workers in 12 hour shifts. Now, with immense competition among smaller units & vendors not budging on rates, 10 workers must subsidise the value chain and unit with their physical labour & long work hours.
Even though he gets paid overtime, Atiullah feels burdened by the amount of work expected from him. Even as vendors continue to extract work from small units, Atiullah's employer must complete all his orders on time: otherwise he risks losing vendors and the closure of his unit.
Read 5 tweets
18 Dec
Story 3/10: Ali Akbar

“My brother-in-law helped me to come to Mumbai 10 years ago, he taught me stitching work for 2-3 months... all these years I have worked in the garment sector in Mumbai but [without any work] now I have come to Hyderabad and working here as painter." (1/4)
For 10 years, Ali had worked in Mumbai in the garment sector as a karigar, or skilled worker & paid on a piece-rate basis, for every shirt stitched. His employer was forced to close down his unit, leaving Ali unemployed. (2/4)
Despite earlier relying on his social networks to find work and progress in his trade, the post-lockdown economy has yielded no results. The garment industry has been hit particularly badly, Ali says, & despite contacting his networks, he was unable to find work. (3/4)
Read 4 tweets

Did Thread Reader help you today?

Support us! We are indie developers!


This site is made by just two indie developers on a laptop doing marketing, support and development! Read more about the story.

Become a Premium Member ($3/month or $30/year) and get exclusive features!

Become Premium

Too expensive? Make a small donation by buying us coffee ($5) or help with server cost ($10)

Donate via Paypal Become our Patreon

Thank you for your support!

Follow Us on Twitter!