From Bonded Labour to Shreelanka

18 July 2000

Nepal bans bonded labour

The Nepalese government on Monday banned the practice of bonded labour, 

under which the lower caste people work in large farms owned by upper caste land owners.

Anyone violating the ban could be jailed up to 10 years.

Lower caste people have worked as bonded labors for generations,

trying to pay off the debts incurred by their fathers or grandfathers.

(Race and History)

 _________

13 Years ago (almost to the day) the Nepalese government banned bonded labour – a good thing – but simultaneously thousands of people were left homeless. The government allocated land to many of these families and one of the communities they chose for about 250 families, is the village of Shreelanka in the Kailali District of western Nepal.

This is good agricultural land, (the surrounds are green with paddy fields) but for many years no one wanted to live here for three reasons: (1) Malaria and a lack of medicine to combat it, (2) annual floods, and (3) snakes. And so it was in Shreelanka that today we visited families that have once again been impacted by floods. Last weekend the water burst the banks of the nearby river, drowned their paddy and was three feet up their walls.

I sit on a wooden ‘day bed’ in a mud/straw house where a family of eight live. The eldest of four sisters is a sponsored child and is at school today for extra tuition, the other sisters, two brothers and Mum and Dad tell us that they know when the floods are coming now: if it has been raining hard a for a good while in the mountains on the horizon they know it will not be long.

They take the three beds in the single room house and stack them on top of the day bed and pack all their belongings onto the tower they have created. They take their two cows and move them to higher ground at the school. The kids move to the school as well. Mum and Dad climb the tower and stay in the house, trying to save as much as they can – for three days.

Today, the water has receded from the houses but the area around the house is a muddy swamp. (Some houses are still islands.) But their house is set-up again, Dad has rebuilt the fire pit and the second eldest daughter is helping Mum fry some vegetable for lunch. One side wall is completely destroyed by the flood, it is closed in by pieces of plastic and cloth; about two feet of most of the other walls has been eroded as well – but none of this can be repaired until after September when the monsoon is over and they can buy straw.

Life is tough for these families, but Mum and Dad smile as they tell us that they would rather this: their freedom – the ability to choose what work they do and who they do it for and the opportunity their kids now have to go to school and maybe escape the area - to the life of servitude and bondage that was theirs not all that long ago.

[On the way out of the village our vehicle ‘fell’ into a deep hole created by the floods and we had to trek out to the main road. It was quite a fun event for the locals!]

Kali the Untouchable

It had been pouring for six hours when, after bouncing and sliding along a rocky, muddy track in our four wheel drive, we came to the swollen stream. Normally the crossing isn't a problem in this area, but today both sides of the river bank were crowded with people sheltering under umbrellas watching the water. Our driver got out and waded into the river, meeting a truck driver from the other side half way to discuss the challenge. It turns out it was really no challenge at all, and soon we were bouncing along the track on our way again.

We were on our way to a community about an hour from Dhangadhi where there is a community that is by geography remote and by caste isolated. The majority of people living in this area are Dalit by caste, and although the official Nepali line is that there is no caste discrimination, for the people of Kailali prejudice, discrimination and segregation are very real.

The categories by which people are defined and treated are numerous, including ethnicity, religion, gender and caste. There are the indigenous Nepalese, (our driver was from this category) who are at the bottom of the value chain ethnically. Then there are the Dalits, the lowest of castes and often referred to as the untouchables.

Kali is Dalit and a girl. Through no fault of her own, born into a caste that means that (traditionally) she will always be discriminated against – because of both her caste and her gender. Destined for service or for a continuing struggle for survival she will do it tough, like her Mum. But there is some hope – Kali is a sponsored child.

There is a family in Western Australia who has made a commitment to support her – she proudly showed me a photo of them and a letter from them. As a result, Kali is the first in her family to be able to go to school, and she loves it. With her Mum (and some others in tow) she showed me her classroom and told me about her teacher.

Because of the sponsorship funds that come to Kali and about 2,030 other sponsor children in this region, there are 697 families, (including Kali’s) that now have a water sealed latrine. There are 60 Child Clubs that operate, raising awareness among children and parents about child rights. There are a decreasing number of children reported to be undernourished. There are over 4,000 women and mums who are shareholders in local village level cooperatives which has resulted in increases in household income, increased school attendance, and decreased childhood diseases.

As Kali cautiously sits next to me (but not too close) on the hard wooden school bench, her eyes look down at the floor and she describes for me her dream to be a teacher and a mum. I remember the example of my best friend and I reach out my hand and softly place it on the back of her head, I touch the untouchable; Kali shyly looks up at me, and looking into her big eyes I silently pray that this one will make it.

Above the Clouds

With the team I climbed above the clouds this morning to a community that has been one of our ‘homes’ for almost 15 years. The narrow, potholed, land-slipped road was four wheel drive territory, with a sheer drop to the valley floor. Coming around blind corners with horn blaring to warn oncoming vehicles is the best way to avoid head-on collisions.

Arriving at our first stop, the local school, we apparently took the staff by surprise: we were too early for them, but they didn't tell us that, so instead we were taken on an impromptu ‘tour of the school’ which coincidentally ended with my colleague and I walking up the same drive way, only this time the welcoming committee was ready with the red powder for our forehead, the garlands, flowers and traditional scarf – and a corridor of children who had been called in from holidays to welcome these visitors from Australia. (They weren't too unhappy!)

Before the big event though we had to have lunch, at 10:30am, boiled rice, lentil water, potato/bitter gourd curry, and bamboo shoot pickles. Our hosts tell me that in Nepal, or maybe just this part,  people don’t have breakfast, just a cup of tea – sweet, buffalo milk tea – which we had enjoyed before the windy, bumpy white knuckle ride up the mountain and then lunch mid-morning, "tiffin" (snacks) in the early afternoon and dinner later at night.

We then settled in for the two hour presentation which included 6 traditional dances from school girls, 2 poems written by girls for the occasion, 10 speeches, 6 from local politicians and community leaders, 2 from the school leaders, 1 from the Chief Guest and 1 (impressively powerful and articulate) from the head girl. (I’m not sure what the boys in the school do!)

4 hours after arriving in the school we moved on – this time to a nearby village where the women have formed a farmers group. Here the women have turned their village around through agriculture and animal husbandry. Most of the houses in the village have 2 ‘tunnels’ (open sided greenhouses) growing tomato, beans, corn, chili and bitter gourd all overflowing with new growth. They have been taught to farm organically and the results (and the books prove it) are impressive. All the members have increased their family’s income from between 10 – 20 times. The impact: children have school books of their own, they are all dressed in uniform they have shoes and they have fresh vegetables to eat. Some of the older kids have moved on to university. The women are selling produce in market, they have a ‘pretty sari’ uniform for their group, they are sharing the produce with friends, and they have been invited to other communities to share how to grow their own food.

As we wait for the adults to organise their welcome, we have a game of soccer with an old, semi flat ball on the road. The boys are happy to do this! Especially when they manage to score against the white guy and his Ugandan mate.

By the time we are ready to head back down the Mountain after 7 hours, the cloud has burnt off and for the first time since I have been here the snow-capped Mt. Machhapuchhre (Fish Tail) has just pushed its way through the cloud in the distance. The road at least is all visible as we bounce back down to the city below.

Pokhara

Nepal’s second largest city (Pokhara) is situated on the shore of Pokhara Lake and in the shadows of the mighty Dhaulagiri, Annapurna and Manaslu Himalyan Range. At this time of year (monsoon) I have to take the word of the locals that the mountains exist because all I can see is the thick cloud banks that seem to both protect and threaten the city.

This city has also been the hub of the Kaski Area Development Program (ADPs). Since 2001 Australia has been supporting over 3,000 sponsor children and their families in 5 communities: partnering with local agencies and the people to improve the state of health for newborns and mothers, renew schools and education systems, introduce micro-finance cooperatives and increase income through livelihood opportunities and skill development for women and men.

As is standard practice these ADPs run for about 15 years, at which time, after extensive consultation with the families, the children, the communities and the local government we withdraw from the area. Each of these ADPs is designed to be sustainable - self-managing and self-perpetuating.

In the few days I have in the area, I have the privilege to attend two farewell celebrations: the first, today, was at a school about 30 minutes out of Pokhara. And here under a bunting enclosed canvas lean-to, I was entertained by young school girls singing and dancing – listened to the obligatory speeches – and then had the opportunity to present sponsor children with awards of recognition.

But it was here, and in a couple of other community meetings, (with the micro-finance cooperative, the women’s group and the Early Childhood Care and Development committee) that I heard about the impact of 15 years work by dedicated and passionate team members. Amongst these achievements are:

• 80.4% of families have enough food
• 98.1% of babies are breast fed
• 85.3% of pregnant women attend medical checks
• 98% school attendance
• 98% proper waste disposal
• 99.2% of families have a water sealed latrine
• Government declared the district open defecation free (ODF) in 2011

I know you don’t know the previous statistics, but take it from me, these are significant improvements. But, the things that are most noticeable are the smiles, the laughter, the kids playing, clean and with a mischievous sparkle in their eyes.

Did everything work? No. Has every person involved had an improvement in their living? No. Are there things we can do better? Yes. But tonight, as the monsoon rains pelt down to the accompaniment of an amazing thunder and lightning show there are 5 communities in rural, isolated Nepal that are better off and there are at least 3,000 children that have dreams of being “engineers, doctors, teachers, bus drivers, paraglider pilots, and soldiers” – and they just might make it now.

Kathmandu, Nepal

"There are more mobile phones than toilets in Nepal" 

and so began my first meeting with the staff in Kathmandu this morning.

Flying into Kathmandu yesterday we had to break through a thick covering of grey, water soaked monsoon clouds but after the rough passage came the beautiful landscape of Nepal. Out the left of the plane, green rolling mountains dotted with houses and small flags; out to the right through the clouds, and at times above them, the Himalayas. Everything can look good from above!

The approach to the airport into the Kathmandu valley, (home to the three ancient Hindu Kingdoms, Kathmandu, Lalitpur and Bhaktapur), is narrow and surrounded by high densely multi-storey colourful housing. Nepal is no longer a Kingdom - following the Maoist wars - in 2008 it became a Democratic Republic, but still today there is no elected government. Surprisingly politicians can't agree on much - but hopefully in November this year the hundreds of political parties will come together in the first election.

Nepal is a country of about 26 Million people, (1.2M in Kathmandu Valley) and innumerable temples. A deeply religious people: Hindu (81%), Buddhists (9%), Muslims (4%), Christians (1.5%), Animists and others. It is surrounded by India to the south, east and west and China to the North and is very heavily influenced by India.

Over the next two weeks I will be travelling south and west to the cities of Pokhara (Kaski) and Kailali visiting the people that are impacted by, and partnering in, our programming in these areas. We are trying to transform the lives of children and families in these areas through education/school programs, maternal and new born child health initiatives, livelihood, economic development and child protection projects. Nepal has a terribly high rate of child brides, (some as young as 9), of child labour and migration (to India for work). Through education programs and advocacy campaigns we are attempting to change these practices - and thankfully, we are able to report some successes.

It is a long process, but in some of these incredibly remote and hard to get to places we are making a difference in the lives of children and their families. But it is not always good news - just a few weeks ago a child in one of our communities died of malnutrition - this shouldn't be happening. Why, with all the resources we can make available are children dying from such a preventable issue?

As I walked around Thamel and Lalitpur this evening, I commented to my colleague that there were, for me, many similarities to Port-au-Prince (Haiti). Densely packed buildings with electrical wires hanging low across the streets, buildings crumbling and obviously 'under code' - all in a valley that 'is overdue for a major earthquake'. As if the country doesn't have enough to worry about, the Disaster Management Committee advises that an earthquake of 6.0+ would devastate the valley. Historically, they happen every 75-100 years - that's about now.

The challenges are huge here, the answers are not simple. But there is no doubt that this is one of the most 'in need' places I have visited.