Children Who Sell Themselves
By SONIA FALEIRO
Published: September 6, 2011

PATNA, INDIA — While investigating child labor in India last month for
a book, I found myself in the northern state of Bihar, an established
source of children for trafficking networks.

Here, alongside the expected stories of abduction, I heard of another
unexpected and heartbreaking path to servitude. Children as young as 10
had begun to directly offer themselves to traffickers because they
could no longer go hungry.

I met 14-year-old Arun Kumar, who told me of his experience.

Kumar lives with his uncle and two younger siblings in Amni village, a
day’s journey by bus from Patna, the Bihar state capital.

Two days before we met, Kumar had been returned home by a local
nonprofit organization, supported by Save the Children, from a rice
mill in the state of Haryana, where he had been working 18-hour days,
seven days a week. He had been paid 800 rupees (a bit less than $20) a
month.

On a rare day, he said, a machine would break down and the workers
would be shooed out for a “holiday.” “I’d walk to the next village
about an hour away,” he said, “to buy biscuits.”

The nonprofit organization first entreated, then threatened the factory
owner with a noisy protest outside his mill. “I paid for him,” the
owner argued, before finally releasing Kumar.

This was not the first time the organization sprang Kumar — he had been
brought home from a another rice mill last year. The police were not
approached either time, since it’s understood that they’re paid off by
traffickers.

When I asked Kumar who had sent him to the mill, he said: “No one. I
went because I wanted to.”

Kumar told me that although his uncle worked, there was not enough
money for more than one one meal a day.

Better-off families in Amni eat twice a day. The village has never had
electricity, running water or land to cultivate. There are no
opportunities for education or employment, and the upper-caste families
in the neighboring village routinely coopt government provisions meant
to alleviate the grim, hard lives of Amni’s lower-caste Dalit families.

Poverty has traditionally fed child labor. India has an estimated 17
million child laborers, many of whom are visible in roadside
restaurants, bakeries and car repair shops. Urban Indians assume that
these children are either locals sent to work by their parents to earn
a little extra cash, or runaways.

The truth is that a many of them are trafficked through massive
networks. The poverty of the country, the children’s needs, the
public’s blind eye and the profits of this illegal trade afford these
networks immunity from India’s child labor laws.

The networks pay middlemen to find victims not just in the urban
sprawls of cities like Delhi or Haryana, where child laborers are in
high demand for work in mills, factories and private homes, but in
far-off towns and villages where poverty pushes people to the brink.
Because recruiters are so numerous, children like Kumar can approach
them on their own, sometimes without even their parents knowing.

Kumar knew life in Amni had no promise, but the fact that he simply did
not have enough to eat led him to seek what he called a “labor
contractor.” He spoke to a few people who’d made it all the way to
Haryana and back, a distance of over 22 hours by train. They were all
children between the ages of 10 and 15; like him, they all believed
they needed to work to survive.

Even though child labor laws prohibit the employment of children under
14, the contractor not only hired Kumar on the spot, but also gave him
an advance of 1,000 rupees ($20). That’s a small fortune for a hungry
village child, and almost a month’s wages for an adult manual laborer.

Kumar soon learned that he was being paid much less than adults for the
same work at the mill, and that some of the tasks he was assigned, such
as operating heavy machinery, were dangerous. This was also a violation
of the law. But he said he was grateful for the opportunity.

The fact that he was made to return home against his wishes not once
but twice doesn’t perturb Kumar. The activists of the nonprofit must
follow their conscience, he believes. But then, so must he.

“When the vegetables run out,” Kumar says. “We eat plain rotis” — an
unleavened bread. “And when the rotis run out I will return to work.”

Sonia Faleiro is the author of “Beautiful Thing: Inside the Secret
World of Bombay’s Dance B



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