The knitwear capital of India is getting suicidal by the day. More than 400 people in the booming town of Tirupur and other parts of the district in Tamil Nadu have taken their lives in the first eight months of 2010. Around 215 suicides were reported between June and August.
Located on the banks of the Noyyal river, Tirupur is one of the fastest growing industrial centres in the state. Most of the town’s population consists of uneducated migrant labourers who work in 6,000 garment units scattered all over the district. Girls and boys from impoverished families of southern districts and other states come here in search of jobs.
At a time when the textile export industry in Tirupur is growing phenomenally with an annual turnover of Rs. 12,000 crore, why aren’t the workers enjoying the fruits of the industrial revolution, and instead wallowing in despair?
In search of answers, TEHELKA visited the Tirupur Government Hospital, where most of the people, whose suicide attempts fail, end up. On 2 October, there were three such cases registered on the same day in the women’s ward alone.
“Anything between 5-10 cases of suicide attempts are registered every day in this hospital,” says Dr ASM Samy, who was on duty in the casualty ward. “The victims, both men and women, usually consume rat poison, bleaching powder or a chemical commonly known as cowdung powder, which are cheap and easily available.”
Maratakavalli, 26, is perched on one of the beds. “Why should I stay alive?” asks the textile worker, who was admitted just hours earlier after consuming cowdung powder. “My husband doesn’t want me to live with him. I don’t want to live as a burden to my parents,” she sobs, as her mother, sitting nearby, lets out a sigh.
The district administration, which started functioning from 22 February 2009 after Tirupur was carved out of Coimbatore and Erode districts, is scrambling to stem the tide of suicides. “We are alarmed by the rising number of suicides,” says Collector C Samayamoorthy. “We had a brainstorming session and formed a committee to study the situation and prevent such cases.”
Alcoholism, family disputes, failure in love and extra-marital affairs are cited by experts as the main reasons for the spike in suicides. Inspector Saraswathi at the All Women Police Station in Tirupur confirms this general trend on the basis of the complaints that they record. “We get at least five cases every day with the victim showing high levels of suicidal tendency,” she says. Such cases are often referred to the counselling centres at the YWCA or Mariyalaya, an NGO.
“A lot of women who come here for counselling are at their wits’ end. It is shocking,” says Padmini Visuvasam, former secretary of the YWCA. Interestingly, it isn’t just the women who are embracing death. This year, 252 men have committed suicide, twice the number of women victims. In 2009, of the 482 suicide deaths, 300 were men.
The town has been on the suicide radar after posting figures higher than the state average for the past three years.
“The majority of suicides in Tirupur are reported among the factory workers,” says C Murthi, general secretary of the Banian and General Workers Union. He says the poor living conditions and low wages are the underlying causes for the problems. “Many commit suicide because of debts and high-interest loans taken from moneylenders,” he adds.
Goutam, 33, who started earning his bread at the age of 17, has worked in all sections of the garment industry: stitching, pressing, printing and dyeing. He worked from 8 am to 10 pm and earned Rs. 200 a day. Goutam struggled to meet the financial needs of his family as the cost of living is high in this industrial town.
“Goutam took a loan from a local moneylender at a high interest rate,” says his mother, Ponnamma. “After his son’s birth, he again went through a serious financial crisis and wanted to take another loan. Goutam and his wife quarrelled over the issue a lot. On 13 September, both of them took their lives, abandoning their 18-month-old child.”
In a similar tale, Laxmi, 32, had been working in the industry for 10 years. After migrating from Rameswaram 15 years ago, Laxmi found a co-worker as her life partner. They lived in a rented room with their three kids. Laxmi worked for one-and- a-half shifts, while her husband did two. “However, when Laxmi got a tumour in her stomach, they didn’t have enough money for the surgery. She hanged herself two years ago,” says her father Manova, who also works in the industry. Now, he looks after his three grandkids.
MOST OF the workers and their families live in single rooms or huts that are rented out at exorbitant rates. At the slum in Tirupur’s KVR Nagar, where there are more than 2,000 huts, most of the residents are industry workers. At 8 am, the colony empties out as the residents rush to the factories. “We don’t have time to talk to you. If we talk to the media about our company, we will be threatened,” says Malathi, a worker.
“Most of us work overtime, but look at our plight,” complains Chentamara, 37. “We are not even provided drinking water here. The pipe water comes once in 10 days.” She and her husband Murukesh, 40, have been working in the industry for the past 20 years. They still live in their rented hut. Now, their two sons have also started working in the same sector.
The textile units in Tirupur and neighbouring districts are infamous for exploiting the workers, especially girls, through a scheme called Sumangali Thittam. Under this scheme, unmarried girls from poor families are brought to the factories through agents, who promise them a lumpsum — in most cases Rs. 30,000 — for a fixed duration of work. It is three years in most cases.
The scheme is nothing but bonded labour,” says Gunasekharan, a research scholar at the Centre for Education and Communication in New Delhi, who has studied the workers’ exploitation in Tamil Nadu’s textile industry. Most of the girls are forced to work overtime, face sexual abuse, and live in ghetto-like conditions. “The number of Sumangali scheme victims are increasing in this region as many companies are adopting this system,” says Gunasekharan.
However, Tirupur Exporters Association president A Saktivel has a different story to tell. “The workers are happy and well-paid. If they are not happy with one company, they are free to work for another as in Tirupur, we have no shortage of textile companies,” he says.
WHEN ASKED whether labour troubles were the main cause for suicides, Tirupur SP A Arun replied: “We don’t have any data on the economic class of the victims. Labour problems and the suicide issue are two separate things.”
Collector Samayamoorthy admits that the authorities are yet to work on a solution that will address the welfare issues faced by the workers. “The spike in suicides have to be addressed after understanding the different aspects,” he says.
Meanwhile, lying limp in her hospital bed, Maratakavalli explains that if her husband hadn’t faced financial problems, and if the couple had enough time to spend together, she might have never contemplated suicide. “But both of us work for different companies from 9 am to 10 in the night,” she says. “By the time we reach our rented room, we are too tired. We were struggling to make both ends meet. My husband ended up torturing me to escape his wretchedness.”
As the town slips into a downward spiral, every household is a potential suicide ticking bomb. If the authorities don’t stem the tide, Tirupur will soon be known as the suicide capital rather than the textile capital of the country.
thufail@tehelka.com
From Tehelka Magazine, Vol 7, Issue 43, Dated October 30, 2010