"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)
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)
The piece-rate system has been critiqued for its neoliberal roots & immense body burdens on garment workers. But for workers like Mainuddin who work in survivalist markets, higher rates and/or more pieces are integral to their logics of survival in expensive Mumbai. (4/4)
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"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)
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)
"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)
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)
"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.
"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.
“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)
"I worked in one hardware shop for 15-20 years, but the employer gave me only INR 200 during the lockdown: what could I do with that much? Without that job, since the day I came back to Mumbai, I have visited the naka in search of work everyday." (1/4)
Mujib Khan has lived in Mumbai for 20 years, of which he spent over 15 as a salaried employee at a hardware shop, earning INR 15,000 per month. Despite his many years of work, his employer abandoned him during the lockdown, giving him only INR 200 to survive. (2/4)
Having left his earlier job, Mujib now visits the naka (labour congregation point) everyday in search of any work at all that he can find. Having never worked in construction, he is forced to seek work as a helper ('unskilled' worker), which pays only INR 4-500 per day. (3/4)