The fate of most of the 400 migrant children who troop into the City every year, is sealed at their very port of entry to the City: Bus stands and railway stations. A few lucky ones are picked up by rescuers and the not so fortunate ones end up with traffickers. Poor Manjula was one of those who lost out at the City bus stand where the 11-year-old was picked by a trafficker and sold off to a rich household in the City.
She would start work at four in the morning. The lady of the house would extract the maximum work but paid her nothing. Manjula also worked in neighbourhood households and the money got from there was siphoned off by the lady of the house she lived in.
Denied breakfast, Manjula's first morsel of food used to be well after noon. Thrashings were the order of the day till a neighbour rescued her and brought to Association for Promotion of Social Action (APSA) and put her into a Kannada medium school.
Three years on, Manjula hopes to be a teacher one day and says "without education, we have nothing." She believes that education would complete her liberation.
Dedicated to a cause
There are several organisations in the City that have dedicated themselves to free these migrant children like Manjula from drudgery and poverty. They take in these children, rehabilitate, educate them and even ensure that they find a livelihood in the City before they go back to their hometown. Bosco Mane, Empowerment of Children and Human Rights Organisation (Echo) and APSA are two of them.
"Migrant children come into the City willing to do any work and are easy prey for all kinds of exploitation. They're like lost sheep. The younger children are usually lured by the older ones into drugs, beggary, gambling and prostitution. When we find these children they're in a devastated state and are victims of all kinds of evil. It takes no less than a year to rehabilitate a migrant child" says Fr P S George, Director of Bosco Mane in Chamarajpet.
K J Sunny coordinator, ECHO says migrant children lose their sense of belonging. "They're lost when we find them and it takes a long time to get them back on track. Their bitter experiences have taught them never to trust anyone easily, it takes a while for them to start trusting and believing again," says Sunny.
Tales to tell
Thirteen-year-old Roopa arrived in Bangalore from a village in Andhra Pradesh as her family could not even feed itself as it was mired in debt. She worked as domestic labour, flower girl and in a packing industry. She had her share of trauma as well and the scars of those beatings and burns still remain on her.
Now rescued and housed with APSA, Roopa says, "I have had my share of bad experiences in the City but it has only made me stronger and not weakened me." Roopa goes to a Kannada medium school in
Vimanapura.
Narasimhaiah arrived in the City a broken adolescent. After being beaten up in a clash back in his home town in Shimoga district, he landed in an observation home.
Branded a criminal and shunned by family and friends as well, he boarded the next bus to Bangalore.
The thought of earning lots of money excited him. He did some menial jobs before he was picked up by ECHO.
A year later Narasimaiah now works as a traffic warden with the City traffic police. "Since I know driving, I would like to drive cab and earn some money. All I must work to free my father of his debt," says the 17-year-old.
A SPECIAL CASE
Rangayya is one of those few lucky migrant children who has seen only the humane face of the City from the moment he stepped into it.
Sold off as bonded labour to a Kadur vegetable shop by his own father in return for a loan of Rs 5,000, Rangayya concluded that he was an orphan when he was just nine-years-old. The new guardian sought to keep his conscience clean by sending him to a school. But the ostensibly good deed only worsened his condition.
He used to start his day at three in the morning at the vegetable shop, sort out vegetables by removing rotten ones, wash the good ones and arrange them at the shop. Once the shop work was done, he would rush to school. Back from school, it was back to backbreaking labour in the shop. He never found time to study.
So Rangayya would get beaten up at school for not doing his homework, get thrashed at the shop for coming in late and would get lashed if he returned home because his father owed the vegetable owner money and there was no way he could let his son not work.
Unable to bear the torture, Rangayya fled one night and boarded the train to Bangalore. "I landed here at four in the morning, the tall buildings, the sea of vehicles and the sheer number of people scared me. I realised that I was in the middle of nowhere. I had forsaken my family — for me they were as good as dead. I believed my future was in these City and decided to do any job here," said Rangayya, who was picked up by Bosco Mane at the railway station on arrival.
Today, Rangayya is 14 years' old and is studying in St Joseph’s Kannada medium school, "I always wanted to study. I want to set up a vegetable shop when I grow up because I know the the nitty-gritty of running a vegetable shop and of course build a house for my parents," says Rangayya, brimming with hope and cheer. A case has been registered against the vegetable vendor with the Child Welfare Committee.
(Watch out for the final series on Monday.)