India

India – the world's largest democracy, third-largest economy in terms of purchasing power, seventh-largest country in landmass, and one of its most ethnically diverse nations.

Over one-sixth of the planet's population lives in India, 1.38 billion inhabitants. Its people, over half under 30, belong to a dozen major linguistic groups, with nearly 20,000 languages spoken in the country.

Development has been uneven for this former British colony and emergent global economic player. While more than 90 million people moved out of poverty in recent years, 176 million are still impoverished. According to the World Bank, ending extreme poverty globally will hinge on India. More than eight in ten people work outside the formal employment sector, with limited job security or access to protections or benefits. The number of women in the labor force – already low – is declining.

Agriculture still is India's main area of employment, particularly for members of Scheduled Castes including Dalits. However, the rural sector is in distress as livelihoods are lost due to globalized agriculture and the impacts of climate change. The percentage of the workforce in agriculture has been declining over the past two decades, reflecting increasing internal migration to urban areas where there are better job prospects.

The Jesuit-run Indian Social Institute (ISI) in Bangalore sees this movement as a survival strategy. Of India's more than 450 million internal migrants, about ten percent are inter-state migrants who leave everything familiar to try to find work to support their families.

These distressed labor migrants – many Dalits, Tribals or other marginalized groups – journey to an unfamiliar place where they do not speak the language or know the culture. Despite being Indian, they are very vulnerable. They may experience human trafficking or be ensnared in bonded labor, modern-day slavery in which an intermediary provides distressed migrants and their families with money and then traps them into working long days for little or no wage to pay off this "loan".

Slum landscape in a neighborhood where the Indian Social Institute Bangalore promotes social inclusion and provides job assistance. This neighborhood is built on a rubbish dump; the houses are made of sheet metal, earth and salvaged materials. The government has tolerated the presence of these structures as long as the value of the land holdings has remained low. Currently, there is a plan to sell parcels of this land but the people who have built their houses in this district – all migrants from a Tribal area in the north – will lose all that they have invested in their homes.

Bangalore, October 2018

I arrived with my family 25 years ago. We moved in search of a better future, an easier life for us all. My mother had no secure job. Every morning she got up and went to a place where people came past to pick you up early in the morning to work in the fields. Then one day she fell ill, so we decided to leave. We needed help, and I had to support her. Here, it was not easy but, little by little, we found our place, until one day, my parents decided to return to the village. So, I was left on my own here in the city.

One day, while I was surfing the internet, I saw a job advert and I called the company. The interview was a few days later and, finally, I had found a job. I make calls for an insurance company and offer clients insurance packages. I like my work a lot. I feel good, they respect me, and I feel that my abilities are recognized. The pay is pretty good and when I surpass the monthly target, it is even better. I have never seen my disability as limiting me in my work and my life. And now, I have decided to apply for benefits to which I have a right and which will help me to live even better and, above all, to support my family.

Bangalore, October 2018

Recipient of support from the Indian Social Institute Bangalore. Picture taken in one of the city's slums

The climate is changing. In my village, there has been no rain for years and so all of us who lived from agriculture have had no other choice but to emigrate. Without water, in fact, our plantations yielded no harvest. Naturally, when you leave your place of birth for another, unknown place, you are not prepared. So, when we arrived in Bangalore, we found ourselves in a whirlwind of uncertainty and danger that drove us to take whatever work was available and to accept whatever conditions were offered without being able to defend ourselves.

The first objective was to pay for our children's studies so that they could have access to a better life than ours. Therefore, my husband began working in the construction industry. But it is day labor without rights or guarantees. In our situation, it is difficult to get documents and enforce our rights. Sometimes an NGO intervened and helped us, but their support did not always work. We live in a situation of marginalization but fortunately our community is big, and we support one another. This enables us to send our children to school.

I often work alongside my husband. Whenever possible, I go with him to work at the building site. As you can imagine, we are talking about hard work: Carrying stones to the top of buildings is backbreaking. Every day, our hearts and thoughts go to our village. That is our home. Every month, we send money to our family so that they can live a little better. Our children study and I hope that once their studies are finished, they will be able to choose the kind of life they want to embark on, either here in the city or in our village. Whatever their choice, I will be happy. I hope that once they are adults, I can return to my village with my husband because our land is there, our home is there.

Bangalore, October 2018

Recipients of support from the Indian Social Institute Bangalore. Picture taken in one of the city's slums where the Indian Social Institute has programs

Young children play in the streets of a slum neighborhood where the Indian Social Institute Bangalore assists distressed labor migrants. Thanks to this activity and pressure from neighborhood residents, a school for the children was opened here several years ago. In this way, with their children in safe hands and protected from the dangers of the street, parents have more time to dedicate to work. Once the children are grown up, NGO programs support further studies and pay their fees at the city's most prestigious schools so as to favor the social inclusion of specific groups in Indian society.

Bangalore, October 2018

[Woman on left speaking] We come from Gulbarga. I arrived as a young woman 30 years ago. My sister and I left our village because of climate change: The lack of rain made it impossible to work the land, so we came to Bangalore to find jobs as domestic workers. Having worked for five years, I'd put aside some money. At that point, my family told me that they had found me a husband and so I returned to my village to get married. I stayed there for nearly a year and, after the wedding, my husband and I returned to Bangalore. He had been a farmer but now he worked as a builder. It was difficult for him to find work but easier for me because I already was familiar with the area; I immediately began working as a domestic in five different houses.

We have had three children, and this has caused me a lot of problems. To tell the truth, my family often humiliated me for not having any male children. In the Indian tradition, only a male child can cremate their mother's and father's bodies after they die. The problem is that our culture is linked to the male figure; it is the man who is supposed to carry on the family name. This idea is common in a broad section of Indian society, not only among illiterate people. The hospitals are full of abandoned children and of women who have an abortion when they discover they are carrying a female child.

Bangalore, October 2018

Recipients of support from the Indian Social Institute Bangalore. Picture taken in one of the city's slums where the Indian Social Institute has programs

Everyday life in a slum neighborhood where the Indian Social Institute Bangalore is working to improve living and working conditions. Inter-state labor migrants are often denied access to government services in the place where they settle, forcing them to live in makeshift housing in what are essentially migrant ghettos.

Bangalore, October 2018

I am 35. I come from Gulbarga and I arrived in Bangalore 13 years ago. I left my village because of lack of work. Climate change caused drought, and this made agriculture no longer profitable. I used to work on my father's land but when its productivity collapsed, we were forced to abandon everything and I was forced to emigrate.

My husband is from the same village. He also worked as a farmer but, unlike me, he didn't own any land and so worked as a day laborer. His employers were big landlords who employed many people in the village in seasonal work. Things also went badly for him: There was less work, and we didn't know what to do about our future. Then some friends from the village who lived in Bangalore advised us to move there to find work and a better future and so we left. When we arrived, we built our house on government land that is used as a rubbish dump, which is why they allowed us to build here. Our little village is divided, by caste, into districts, and a strong hierarchy is in force among us.

I have two sons, nine and six years old. Thanks to the help of an NGO, both of them go to a private school run by Catholic nuns. I work as a domestic in three different houses. I am involved in all household affairs and I like my work. As I look after my two children, I am always busy balancing the hours of domestic work with my everyday duties at home and am not able to work every day.

Bangalore, October 2018

Recipient of support from the Indian Social Institute Bangalore. Picture taken in one of the city's slums where the Indian Social Institute has programs

I am the representative of the women of this village. I too am from Gulbarga. We arrived in Bangalore a long time ago with my husband. At the beginning, I worked with him in construction, manual work. He and I were among the first to build a house in this area. Then I had to stop work in the construction industry to look after my son. So, I began to sell food on the street and, little by little, I created a shop and began to stock more and more products. Today, I have the best-stocked shop in the neighborhood. My house is at the back of the shop and so I can keep the shop open 24 hours a day. My husband died some years ago and today I run everything with my son who, after his studies, returned here and helps me take care of the business.

As I said at the beginning, I am the representative of the women in this neighborhood. Together, we are fighting the government so that they won't take possession of this land where we have lived for more than 30 years. The government wants to sell the area to developers who will construct buildings for sale. According to a law that enables us to have the existence of our neighborhood recognized, we must demonstrate that we have been here more than 20 years. So, we have made a case and the government has recognized the status of the slum; in the event of evacuation, it will have to find us alternative accommodation. But we fear that they are not taking this seriously and that we could lose everything without anything in exchange: Every month, they threaten to demolish our houses and send us away without ever clarifying where they would place us.

For years, I have also fought to have a school opened in our neighborhood and, finally, my dream has come true. A primary school now enables children to begin to learn to read and write and allows their mothers to go to work, leaving them in good hands. I also go from house to house explaining to the parents the importance of sending their children to school so that one day they can determine their own future and improve their living conditions.

In my shop I also have decided to open a little neighborhood "bank." Actually, those who live here do not have credentials to open a bank account and don't know where to deposit their savings. Now they deposit them with me. I have a register in which I note all the sums deposited, how much comes in and goes out.

Bangalore, October 2018

Recipient of support from the Indian Social Institute Bangalore. Picture taken in one of the city's slums where the Indian Social Institute has programs

A shantytown where Tribals from northern India are living after migrating in search of work. The neighborhood does not have access to electricity or sanitation services, increasing the risk of accidents and disease. The Indian Social Institute Bangalore accompanies these residents in their quest for decent work and dignified living conditions.

Bangalore, October 2018

[Woman speaking] I am 35, I think, because in fact I do not have any documents that testify to my date of birth. I was married here in Bangalore but before that I lived in Tamil Nadu in a little country village. Fifteen years ago, I moved here with my sister. We left our parents in the village, reassuring them that we would soon return with money to help our family and continue to live together. Things did not go as we hoped. The conditions of work were difficult to the point that my sister committed suicide about ten years ago, leaving me with her daughter.

Since my arrival, I have been working as a domestic helper – work of up to eight hours a day. The rest of the time is dedicated to my family and the house. My husband works as a bricklayer eight to nine hours a day. We work very hard to enable our children to go to school so that one day they can have access to a better future than ours.

My niece Meenakshi, who is like my daughter, studies at the Indus International School, a very prestigious school attended by many foreign students. Thanks to an NGO, she was able to get a scholarship like 20 other boys and girls from this encampment who attend the same school.

As for me, I now work as a cleaning lady at Bagamane Tech Park. I work nine hours a day, and I do not feel discriminated against in my place of work. Now I go back to my native village at least twice a year. The link with the traditions and events in my community remains alive within me. For the future, I hope that my children can study and become important people, with a brilliant future, and that they can live a beautiful life.

Bangalore, October 2018

Recipients of support from the Indian Social Institute Bangalore. Picture taken in one of the city's slums where the Indian Social Institute has programs

This slum neighborhood, home to inter-state labor migrants supported by the Indian Social Institute, does not have running water and so, at sunset, all the members of the village head for the cisterns at the neighborhood's entrance to collect water to take to their homes.

Bangalore, October 2018

I have been a driver of a rickshaw for 13 years. I have two daughters, both of whom work as housekeepers. My wife is a homemaker. Like everyone else, I moved in search of a job and to access better opportunities for my family. I come from Tamil Nadu and so I speak another language, but I have learned Kannada, the language of Bangalore, so I can understand and talk to my clients. Learning a language is important in order to integrate into the society to which we have come.

I got my license here in Bangalore and this means that the clients recognize me as a good person and reassures them that they can trust me and my service. I have joined the Auto Drivers Association, for which we pay an annual subscription. The members meet together, and we try to operate as a group to lobby the government to get better conditions and to be able to apply better tariffs. The work is varied enough but competition is fierce. The new apps such as Uber and Ola create problems for us: People tend to choose these services and we lose clients. For those of us of the older generation, it is often difficult to understand new technologies, so we inevitably lag behind and lose many clients and opportunities.

Bangalore, October 2018

Recipient of support from the Indian Social Institute Bangalore. Picture taken in one of the city's slums where the Indian Social Institute has programs

Bricklayers mounting scaffolding to do construction work. The majority of workers in the construction sector are internal migrants, coming from rural areas where making a living from agriculture has become impossible. They move to the big city where there are better opportunities to find a job that can enable them to support their families.

Delhi, October 2018

I am originally from a little village in Uttar Pradesh, but I moved to Delhi more than 30 years ago. In my village, there were unfortunately few opportunities. Then, a friend told me that I could come and work here in the city and I followed his suggestion. I was illiterate and could not write letters to my family. After three years away from my family, my friend kindly helped me to write a letter to my loved ones so that they could at last have some news from me.

When I arrived here, I had nothing, not even money to buy a train ticket. Today, on the other hand, I have been able to buy a small parcel of land and a house, to which I then brought my family. So now, my family and my home are here. One part of my family still lives in the village. I send them money every month and at least once a year, I go there on holidays so as to keep alive the link with my place of origin. I have worked for 20 years for the same employer. I am lucky because not everyone has such good work conditions and such a good relationship with their employer.

Delhi, October 2018

Recipient of support from the Indian Social Institute New Delhi, a construction worker building the new Indian Social Institute headquarters

I come from a little village in Bihar and arrived in Delhi 40 years ago. I emigrated because, already then, there was not enough work on my land. So, with the promise of finding a better situation for me and my family, I moved here. You can imagine the difficulty of moving to a place a long way from home where you know nothing and without the possibility of contacting your loved ones. It was not easy but, luckily, I did it. I met my wife here, and together we have had children, and our family is a happy one.

I have worked for 18 years in the construction sector. I am a day laborer. Work is important because if you want to eat, some comfort and decent clothes, if you want your family to live in dignified conditions, you must work. I am 65, and I am still working. But one day, when I can stop, I will return to my village, with all my family, to live a more tranquil life and await the end of my days in the place where I was born.

Delhi, October 2018

Recipient of support from the Indian Social Institute New Delhi, a construction worker building the new Indian Social Institute headquarters

I came from my village in Uttar Pradesh in 2009. In my village, I did not have enough land to cultivate and provide for my family. So, not being able to make a living from agriculture, I came to Delhi to find a job and to help my family. They are still in the village. My mother, my father, my wife and my two sons all live there, while I am here. I work and send money to them. Every three or four months I try to go and see them, but sometimes I only manage to go every six months or even less often. When I go to the village, I spend as much time as possible with them, and then I come back here to work.

I do not feel discriminated against at work, even if, in my village, we are very poor. Our dignity is always respected and, in the end, month after month, we always find some way of carrying on. I work as a bricklayer and it's a job that is very difficult and tiring. I never manage to earn enough. Everything that's not needed for food, I send to my family to support them as they are in a difficult situation. And so, in answer to the question "What is your dream?", my reply is that in these circumstances I cannot have dreams.

Delhi, October 2018

Recipient of support from the Indian Social Institute New Delhi, a construction worker building the new Indian Social Institute headquarters

Bricklayers involved in the construction of a new building for the Indian Social Institute in Delhi. All three are migrants from different regions of India. The hard conditions of work are the norm in this kind of employment in which bricklayers must work for many hours a day but earn very low pay. Often the workers live on building sites; to save the cost of daily travel, they improvise shelters in which they sleep and eat until the work is finished.

Delhi, October 2018

Worker in a brick factory in a village not far from Bangalore. The factory employs mainly people from a Tribal area in the North for whom the local language and culture usually are completely foreign. They often experience discrimination and have difficulty communicating with local residents and authorities.

Bangalore, October 2018

Migrants employed at a brickmaking company. All, or almost all, are Tribals from northern India and live beside their place of work. Such workers are often trapped in forced or bonded labor after borrowing money from an intermediary to migrate for a job.

Bangalore, October 2018

A mother with her daughter in front of their dwelling, located right next to the factory where her husband works as a bricklayer eight hours a day, six days a week.

Bangalore, October 2018

From childhood, I always dreamed of being a journalist, and the historical events that overwhelmed my land [Afghanistan] offered me the possibility of realizing my dream. I began work as a journalist and liked my work very much. But then, one day, the Taliban took me by surprise. I started to receive death threats by phone and began to fear for myself and, above all, for my family.

In this confused and dangerous situation, my family and I tried to find out where I could emigrate to. One of the options was Pakistan but finally we all agreed that the most secure country would be India. And so, I got a visa. I remember that there was fighting in my city, but I managed to arrive at the airport and board the plane.

Once I arrived in Delhi, I began to build a new life. Now I am waiting for the procedure for obtaining refugee status to reach completion. But it takes a long time, and, in the meantime, we remain in limbo, awaiting a reply in the hope that someone will tell us what our future will be. I don't know if this will become my home, or not. But, I am sure that home is wherever – India, America or even Europe – I can be safe together with my family. I fervently hope that, one day, it could be Afghanistan, my mother country. I miss my family who stayed there, I miss my friends, I miss my mother and father.

Here in Delhi, I work as an English teacher for people of Afghan origin and often I work as an interpreter and consultant monitoring activities for an international NGO. I do interviews for them and I collect funds to improve the life of my co-nationals here in India. My dream is to be able to access the best education possible for me, my wife and my children.

Delhi, October 2018

Recipient of support from the Indian Social Institute New Delhi and Jesuit Refugee Service in New Delhi

You should know that in many parts of Afghanistan, girls who study are a target for the Taliban. It was like that for me. My parents sent me to school and for this reason they received death threats. So, with them and my brothers and sisters, we decided to travel here to India to access teaching and to live a safer life. It was reasonably easy to get a visa at the Indian Consulate, so we came by plane and once we had landed, we began to search for accommodation. It is not at all easy to live with everyone's eyes on you. Here, everyone sees you as different. Because we are migrants, they discriminate against us. I believe that all human beings are equal and I would like others to look at me without prejudice. Although this is my new home, I don't yet feel at home. I miss my family and my friends left behind in Afghanistan. In reality, my family and I are alone here in India.

Now I am studying English. I hope this will help me to get away from here to find new opportunities elsewhere. It does not matter where. I want to get to a place where I can have a family and a better life. And so, maybe one day I will be able to work in the world of fashion and open my own boutique. My dream is that one day Afghanistan will become a safe place and that all Afghans who have emigrated can return home and live safely in our land.

Delhi, October 2018

Recipient of support from the Indian Social Institute New Delhi and Jesuit Refugee Service in New Delhi

I was a teacher in Afghanistan, and my husband worked in the government. Our life was beautiful and calm. Our children were growing up and we had good prospects. Then one day, some men approached my husband. They were from the Islamic State. They asked him to take sides in favor of Jihad; because of his position in the government, he would have been a strategic contact for them. He refused. But they would not accept his refusal and started threatening him, saying that they would kill all of us, one by one.

So, we had no choice, we packed our bags and left for Iran. But while we were traveling through the country, we had problems with the police. I was traveling with my five children but in the confusion of our flight the two eldest hid from the forces of order. My husband and I and the three youngest were forced to return to Afghanistan. From that day on, for four years, I had no information about my eldest children. The last time I saw them, they were 13 and 14 years old. Then, a few months ago, there was finally a call with news. They were continuing on the Baltic route to Germany. They are well now, and I hope to see them soon.

To save our lives, we, on the other hand, were forced to emigrate to Delhi. It was not easy to obtain refugee status and integrating at a social level was complicated, given also the initial language barrier. Fortunately, today I have learned English and I speak a little Hindi. Thus, we are finding a place in this society whilst waiting for the often too slow bureaucracy to grant us refugee status.

Delhi, October 2018

Recipients of support from the Indian Social Institute New Delhi