Dignity begins at home

A woman who worked as a housemaid was ‘caught’ urinating in the corridor of a posh apartment complex. The story goes that she was fired and banned from entry into the premises while residents expressed shock and disgust. The more empathetic folks shook heads voicing concerns about the lack of education among ‘their’ lot. Very few questioned why a woman needed to go in an obviously public place knowing she might be discovered with dire consequences. The reasons ought to have been clear — most of us do not allow housemaids to use toilets at home and the public urinals ostensibly built for them at the margins of our residential campuses are dirty and unsafe. I will never know whether the woman acted out of desperation or rebellion, but she made our collective attitudes to domestic workers glaringly obvious. 

Unmasking our duplicities

No matter how class conscious and casteless we pride ourselves to be, the relationship we have with domestic workers reveal our duplicity over the fault-lines that exist. We may give excuses about habits of hygiene for not allowing them to use our toilets, but it comes from embedded caste discrimination that is rife in urban societies. Most houses have separate utensils for domestic workers that are not used by others, separate lifts, and prohibition even on the use of public areas to gulp down lunch as they run from one house to another. Often, the food given to them is not just leftovers but what others at home refuse to eat because it is turning.

Listening to domestic workers in Bengaluru, I have gleaned that those who do the washing and cleaning of homes are treated the worst, the cooks — often the same caste as the employer — are slightly higher up, and then come those who look after children. It is not difficult to see how our self-interest and prejudices around caste and menial labour determine this hierarchy. At a seminar in Bengaluru, Gayatri, Treasurer of the Domestic Workers Rights Union, corroborated the facts mentioning that these are well-educated high-earning households where wages are cut for domestic workers if they take even a few days off. From these unsafe houses emerge news of unbelievable cruelty against live-in domestic workers, often young migrant girls with no druthers to leave. There are reports of domestic violence, missing girls, and trafficking rings where some fraudulent contracting agencies are also complicit. 

Middle-class hypocrisy

“Why can’t she just put her children in a free government school?” a friend of Ma’s complained when her cook wanted a higher salary. “Would you?” Ma responded. This is a common lament among the middle class. While aggressively pushing their own agenda of upward mobility, they ridicule the aspirations of the working class to educate themselves, get better jobs, and live happier lives. The objection comes bolstered with the fear of losing the next generation of low wage workers. We boast about our children changing jobs for more money, whine about toxic workplaces, argue with bosses for increments and take every available leave possible to rest and travel. But the same is not on offer for domestic workers. The wages are never commensurate with the labour, an argument for a higher salary is deemed insolent, efforts to enhance their children’s lives are overreaching, and there are no set policies for leave or benefits. I was shocked to hear that in many homes, they work seven days a week. Those employers who provide basic accommodation by way of their privileges as government officials, often don’t give salaries. We seem to have missed the memo on the abolition of bonded labour. 

The relationship of the woman of the household and the female domestic worker is particularly complicated. There is an attempt to control the workers’ attire, ways of conduct, and especially their sexuality. The plunge of their neckline and chatting with male members of the family are dealt with equal ire. The nasty comments about the lasciviousness of morals and lack of shame of that particular ‘class’ can make ears burn. There seems to be a specific rage against the expression of desire — for sex, love or even a better life. Observing this at close quarters across many homes, I have noticed that despite the huge difference in privileges, there is a grudging jealousy that the householder feels towards the worker. The moral obligations and covenants of piety and sin that keep middle class women shackled to their marital bed and family’s hearth often do not apply to working class women. Their frontal, lifelong struggles against oppression and injustice imbues them with an earned freedom, irreverence, and resilience that does not sit easy with the middle classes.    

Workers sans agency   

It is not that there are no homes where domestic workers are treated with dignity and love. I have seen households where mutual care creates sustainable bonds over decades of service. The worker is considered family and support is given and received in times of need, with a trust that is often stronger than those in kinships of blood or marriage. However, this relationship is totally dependent on the goodness of the employer, giving domestic workers absolutely no agency. Everything that should be the rights of labour become considerations of kindness. Feudalism is so deeply entrenched that we feel bestowing generosity should be our entitlement. No matter how well the worker is treated, there is immense inequality of power. 

The need of the hour is clear legislation that protects the rights of domestic workers and guards them from abuse. Being part of the unorganised sector, they are excluded from most labour laws. The Unorganised Workers’ Social Security Act, 2008 which does include them with protections like minimum wages is difficult to enforce due to absence of formal contracts, itinerant nature of work, and refusal of employers to take responsibility.

Despite the odds, in various cities across the country, movements of domestic workers are gaining strength and claiming rights of fair salaries, good working conditions, and dignified conduct. As Geeta Menon, Joint Secretary of the Domestic Workers Rights Union in Bengaluru says, “Respect is key to a relationship at work. It is about how you make people feel.” That’s where the struggle is at. 

(This column navigates the various worlds of entangled relationships attempting to celebrate, cope with, and reimagine the meanings of our connections. Arundhati Ghosh is a writer, cultural practitioner, social activist, and traveller. All Our Loves: Journeys with Polyamory in India is her first book in English published by Aleph Book Company in 2025.) 

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