The coal mines of Meghalaya

This past week I went on a five day research trip into northeast India, joined by my colleagues Nick Sankey, Shailaja CM and Dilu Tamang. As our Circus Children Project draws to a successful close we have been looking at various other situations that could be considered as having a negative impact on Nepalese children who have found their way, by one means or another, to India. Over Christmas I had picked up a press report which suggested that there were trafficked Nepalese children working in the coal mines of Meghalaya, the Indian State which lies on Bangladesh's northern border. We decided to look into the mines (so to speak) and sent a research team there last month for a preliminary visit to meet the NGO Impulse and its dynamic Founder/Director, Hasina Kharbhih (who was named in the article). Upon receiving their intriguing report I felt that I wanted to see the situation for myself.

The target area for our visit was the Jaintia hills in the eastern part of the State, this being the main coal mining area. I suppose that this could once have been considered to be an area of outstanding natural beauty with considerable tourism potential but it seems to have suffered from years of environmental indifference that probably even pre-dated the mining which started just a generation ago. Driving into the area I noticed the almost total absence of bird life, including even the common scavengers that you see in the Himalayan countryside such as crows and myna birds. I suspect this is through a combination of hunting, the planting of sterile pine forests and burning of scrub which seemed to be going on all around. On top of this there is now the uncontrolled mining which is open cast, pit or "rat hole" - small tunnels that lead to seams in the hillside.

We had heard before our visit of the existence of a "coal mafia" which dominates the mining industry and of the risk to life and limb of nosing around and asking too many questions. However when we got to the area of the mines we were made most welcome and families were quick to share with us details of their lives. OK, perhaps we were being misled but the impression we gained was that we were in the midst of a community of Nepalese men, women and children - families - who were economic migrants, earning good money and living a decent domestic life. That's more than can be said of the rural areas of Nepal whence many of the families originate. Undoubtedly there are health and safety issues at the mines. Unlike Dilu Tamang (pictured bottom right) I elected not to descend a pit on a rickety ladder where the handrail consisted of no more than a branch. I am sure deaths and injuries go unreported in this isolated part of India into which the authorities or police allegedly fear to tread.

For now our jury is out as to whether or not we are looking at a trafficking problem as opposed to economic migration of families. We are assured by Impulse that unaccompanied children are trafficked there and that there are worse coal mines than those we visited. That is good enough to merit further research both in Meghalaya and in Nepal in the coming few months.

During our discussions with Hasina the issue of what constituted a "child" was raised. From Hasina's point of view the answer was simple; it is as per the UN Convention of the Rights of the Child (CRC) which has been signed by all the countries in the world with the exception of the USA and Somalia (strange bedfellows) i.e. under 18 unless national law puts the age of majority at younger than this. That is fine in theory but in practice it is a different story altogether. For if that criterion were to be accepted we would most likely have to end child labour and remove thousands of "children" who are in their mid teens from the coal mines. This would be tricky if the teenagers were there, desperate to work to avoid starvation for themselves and their families with no alternative social support in Nepal. And if you were to extract these teenagers it would be not only traumatic and violent but also probably a total waste of resources as they'd be back at the mines within a week of being repatriated back to Nepal with all its economic woes.

It takes a brave person within the development sector to risk becoming a pariah by challenging the widely-accepted truths of CRC but, very sadly, to me there seems to be a huge gap between its provisions and the needs of the real, impoverished, world.

Uranium and urinals

I returned yesterday evening from a five day research trip to Meghalaya State in northeast India. The reason for my visit is that the State, which lies on Bangladesh's northern border, is home to coal mines which are reputedly a destination for trafficked Nepalese children. I will post on that subject tomorrow. There are also significant uranium deposits in the eastern part of Meghalaya and, as India flexes its nuclear muscle, this has become a highly important national resource. The deposits though lie in tribal lands and there have been strong local objections to the potential for mining to leave a legacy of lasting environmental damage and a very long term health hazard. It appears that these objections have been largely overcome recently, most likely through local leaders being bought off at the expense of the environment and the poor people the leaders are supposed to represent. Mining will start soon.

It is a cliche to write that the "incredible" India of the tourist brochures is a land of contrasts but I am constantly amazed by how this new world power can have such ambitious national and international goals while showing so much disregard for the basic needs of its population. These include provision for essential bodily functions. On the trip down to Meghalaya I stopped off in Siliguri and after a light meal in a cafe opposite the railway station decided to use the lavatory at the rear of the premises. Beyond the door pictured top right lurked the worst toilet that I have ever used in my life. It consisted of nothing apart from a tiled room with two foot pedestals. Essentially the toilet receptacle was the floor around these comparatively dry islands with drainage being through seepage from around the floor margins. When you see an indoor facility like this you might justifiably prefer a simpler al fresco solution but later on in the trip I was warned that this option can come at a price. See the picture bottom right.

It was with some relief that we reached the Nepal border late yesterday morning. However this was short-lived as upon arrival we were advised that there was an ongoing "bandh" (strike) that was paralysing the south of the country and potentially preventing us from getting to the domestic airport and catching our flight from there home to Kathmandu. The strike, which started five days ago and is indefinite, has been called by the indigenous Tharu people who have objected to being grouped with the ethnic Indian (Madhesi) population in the discussions that are underway about the shape of the future all-inclusive "new" Nepal. During bandhs roads are blocked with rocks and fallen trees to prevent vehicular movement but we made it through by hitching a ride in an ambulance. The ambulance disgorged its patient at the airport, an unfortunate young woman who was clearly very seriously ill; she had no medical carer and all that the airport could provide was a wheelchair that didn't have any brakes. My colleague Dilu Tamang went off to find a couple of bricks to put behind the rear wheels. The woman's accompanying relatives were doing all that they could to try to get her on to the earliest flight possible, through showing her hospital notes and a doctor's letter to the airport staff. I imagine that they succeeded in the end but Nepal is no country for sick young women.

I read in the papers this morning that three people were killed yesterday because of this unrest. The police opened fire on protesters at a road blockade killing two and the locals retaliated later by hacking a policeman to death. If this strike continues it will add significantly to the national problems as much of Nepal's food and fuel supplies have to come north by road from India through this troubled region. As if the country hasn't enough to think about - as predicted in my last post the energy crisis deepened while we were away. We now have just four hours of electricity per day.