Two years ago, Mannepalli Ankamma, a woman from a tribal community in Andhra Pradesh, who does not know her age, decided to work for N. Muthu, a 60-year-old duck farmer. He promised her a salary of ₹24,000 a month for herding cows and helping him run a sweet shop in Satyavedu, a town in the Tirupati district of Andhra Pradesh. Ankamma took an advance of ₹15,000 from him. When she was unable to repay the amount, Muthu took away her youngest son, M. Venkatesh, as ‘collateral’. He also allegedly inflated the amount she owed him to ₹42,000.

On April 9, Ankamma spoke to Venkatesh over the phone. The nine-year-old boy told her that he was busy tending to Muthu’s ducks in Kancheepuram district in Tamil Nadu. Ankamma lives in Thurakapalle village in Duttaluru mandal of Nellore district in Andhra Pradesh, where she works in her current employer Siva Reddy’s lemon orchard. She assured her child that she would be there in two days with ₹42,000 of cash in hand. She promised that he would be home soon.

Before ending the call, Ankamma asked Venkatesh what he had eaten for lunch. Curd rice, he said, an improvement over the previous day’s meal of rice mixed with water.

That was the last time Ankamma spoke to him.

Buried by the river

A week later, clutching wads of cash, Ankamma travelled to Satyavedu, about 270 kilometres from her village. But Muthu refused the money.

“He used casteist slurs against me,” she recalls. “He also told me that my son had run away with his phone and some cash.” Dejected, Ankamma returned home.

When a month passed and there was still no word from Venkatesh, Reddy helped her file a First Information Report (FIR) at the Satyavedu police station on May 19.

The police began their investigation. On being questioned, Muthu told them that Venkatesh had died of jaundice on April 12 at a private hospital at Pudupalayam in Tiruvannamalai district of Tamil Nadu. He confessed that he had buried the boy near the Palar river.

The police found Venkatesh’s decomposed body and informed Ankamma. “I knew it was him. He was wearing a vest and shorts. I knew it was my boy though he had become unrecognisable,” says Ankamma, her cheeks wet with tears.

While the medical officer from the Chengalpattu Government Medical College declined to share the post-mortem report,the Puttur police quoted the report and said that the stated cause of death was “blunt force injury to the head by (a) heavy weapon”. The injuries were “sufficient to cause death in ordinary course of nature”.

At first, Muthu, his wife, and son were arrested under the provisions of the Bonded Labour System (Abolition) Act, 1976; the Child Labour (Prohibition and Regulation) Act, 1986; the Juvenile Justice (Care and Protection of Children) Act, 2016; and the Scheduled Castes and the Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, 1989. On May 24, Deputy Superintendent of Police G. Ravi Kumar, who probed the case, said Section 103 (1) (murder) under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, 2023, was also added to the FIR.

Also read: How the Code on Wages ‘legalises’ bonded labour

Bonded labour is a system where creditors force debtors to repay debts through labour. The Act prohibits any person from making advances under, or in pursuance of, the bonded labour system. It also prohibits compelling a person to render bonded or forced labour. However, the practice continues till date, say activists.

A debt that cost a son

Sitting on a flat rock outside Reddy’s house on the outskirts of Thurakapalle village, Ankamma cries softly. Thurakapalle is 8 km from Duttaluru town. A narrow muddy pavement leads to the village, which is populated by about 10 people in the morning. The silence of the surroundings is broken by the crowing of roosters.

Reddy’s house stands in the midst of a vast expanse of lemon orchards. Ankamma and her husband Prakash get paid ₹15,000 a month for taking care of Reddy’s 12-acre orchard, tending to 10 buffaloes, and doing other odd jobs for him.

Ankamma and Prakash do not have a house. “This is home,” she says, pointing to a small hut-like structure, perched precariously on four logs. The logs are covered on top by a tarpaulin sheet. There is just enough space for them to sleep.

When Reddy is around, Prakash and Ankamma sit on the ground. “They are Reddulu (Reddys). They are ‘big’ people,” Ankamma says with a reverential tone. She believes that what happened was all her fault. “We will not leave Siva Reddy until our last breath. We had left him to work for Muthu and that is why this happened to us. From now on, we will be loyal to him.”

Two years ago, Ankamma and Prakash went to work for Muthu after Ankamma’s mother told her that he may pay more. Taking an advance of ₹15,000 from Muthu, they began taking his ducks for grazing. Though he promised them a salary of ₹24,000 a month, Muthu did not give them anything more than the advance amount.

The couple slept in the fields under the sky. They often stayed awake at night, fearing snakes and scorpions. They moved from place to place every week, foraging for feed. They offered to repay the debt in instalments, but Muthu refused.

Ankamma has three children from her previous marriage — Chenchu Krishna (15), Ravu Lakshmamma (12), and Venkatesh. When her first husband died last year, she and Prakash left for Guduru, near Tirupati district, for his final rites. When they did not return, an enraged Muthu went in search of them. He took Venkatesh away, saying the boy was ‘collateral’.

“Everyone says we will get some cash (compensation),” says Ankamma. “But we will not demand anything except justice for my son.”

The Central Sector Scheme for Rehabilitation of Bonded Labourer - 2021 states that immediate financial assistance of up to ₹30,000 is guaranteed to individuals rescued from bonded labour. Once the accused is convicted, the aid can go up to ₹3 lakh, depending on the severity of the case.

Ravi Kumar, the administrative officer at the Revenue Divisional Officer’s (RDO) office in Sullurpeta, says the Tirupati administration is considering providing a housing site and compensation to the family. Satyavedu falls under the purview of the Sullurpeta RDO.

Activists say the administration should also issue a ‘release certificate’ to Ankamma’s family. “Release certificates can be issued only to those in bonded labour. Technically, only the boy was a bonded labourer. Since he is dead, the family is not eligible for the certificate,” Kumar explains.

‘Poor, unlettered, and fearful’

Andhra Pradesh is both a source and a destination State for bonded labour. “The problem is not as prevalent as it used to be, but many cases do not come to light these days. In addition to migrant labourers from Odisha, Madhya Pradesh, West Bengal, and Chhattisgarh, the most marginalised locals fall prey to the system,” says Raavi Sunil Kumar, convenor of the Vetti Vimochana Coalition, a group of NGOs working on bonded labour issues. According to data compiled by the group, 402 people have been rescued from bonded labour in the State from January 2023 to date. Most of them, including Ankamma, belong to the Yanadi community.

A report from the National Commission for Denotified, Nomadic and Semi-Nomadic Tribes, published in 2008, says the Yanadis are one of the 59 Denotified Tribes and 60 Nomadic Tribes of Andhra Pradesh. As per the 2011 Census, there were more than 5 lakh Yanadis in the composite State of Andhra Pradesh and Telangana.

Noorbasha Babavali, a research assistant at the Centre for Study of Social Inclusion at Andhra University in Visakhapatnam, says the Yanadis are extremely poor. Only 35.35% of them are lettered. “They have been exploited as they don’t know about the legal system. Their fear of society keeps them away from the mainstream. They don’t own any assets and stay on the canal bunds and in hilly areas.” Ankamma says she did not know that vetti chakiri (bonded labour) is illegal.

“Many Yanadis do not open up to strangers even if they are offered help,” says Ch. Venkateswarlu, a Yanadi leader from Alluru, a village near Ongole in Prakasam district. “Unlike Ankamma, others do not share their troubles. They fear being beaten up by their employers.”

He recalls another incident in which two bonded labourers died of electrocution while working in a field in Palnadu district. “Though this happened a few months ago, the labourers’ families still work as bonded labourers,” he says.

Kotaiah’s escape

Katti Kotaiah, 56, who also belongs to the Yanadi community, escaped the clutches of his employer at Chilakaluripeta town.

Kotaiah lives in a Yanadi colony at Alluru, a village near the Kothapatnam beach in Prakasam district. About 400 Yanadis live in the colony. At least 10 members live in one hut.

Like Ankamma, Kotaiah blames himself for what happened. “It was my fault that I accepted a loan of ₹10,000 from a creditor in Chilakaluripeta in Palnadu district. At the time, we had no work, no food, and no access to drinking water. So, I took the money,” he says.

To repay that amount, his family of seven, including three children, had to work as bonded labourers for around 20 years. “We set out to work when my son’s three children were toddlers. Now they are between 16 and 20,” he says. By the time of their release last year, that debt of ₹1,500 had risen to ₹15 lakh. The family was sold more than thrice, and worked as bonded labourers under different employers, says Kotaiah.

Katti Kotaiah, 56, who also belongs to the Yanadi community, escaped the clutches of his employer at Chilakaluripeta town. Kotaiah and his wife Katti Gangamma (in the centre) depend on fishing for their livelihood these days.
| Photo Credit:
G.N. Rao

He says their job was to cut Subabul logs, used primarily in the pulp and paper industry. He and his wife cut two tonnes of logs every day. “In a week, if we cut 14 tonnes, we would get ₹1,500,” he says. As per current rates, a worker is supposed to get around ₹500 for cutting one tonne.

“These jobs were always fine in the first five months. Then, our employers would not give us wages daily. They would give us just ₹1,000 a week. We had to work even when we fell sick. They restricted our movements,” he says.

Kotaiah says a policeman asked him to leave the employer during the pandemic. “But I told him that I owed my employer ₹2 lakh.” he says. Kotaiah sold his house, received as part of a government scheme, for ₹1 lakh to clear the debt.

It was only when Kotaiah’s friend died that he decided to leave. “We told our employer that we have to vote in the election (June 2024). He let us go. We never went back, despite warnings.” This year, too, the employer created a ruckus in Alluru demanding that they all come back, he recalls. District officials of Prakasam intervened and gave the family protection and release certificates.

Venkateswarlu says that while the government hands out release certificates to survivors, the rehabilitation takes place so late in some cases that a few people, who find themselves without land and work after their release from bonded labour, go back to their old employers.

Today, Kotaiah lives in a spacious hut with a sofa, cot, and cooler. He says civil society members got him these necessities. Kotaiah sells fish for a living. “Some days, I get ₹200 and some days I make ₹400. Today I got only ₹100. But at least no one is torturing us,” he says.

No action plan in place

“Apart from duck-rearing units, bonded labour cases are reported from areas where Subabul is grown extensively,” says Ramesh, who belongs to the Rural Organisation for Poverty Eradication Services, a registered NGO.

In duck-rearing units, children are mostly chosen as labourers. “One has to be agile and quick to stop the ducks from escaping. Duck farmers, mostly Yerukulas (another Scheduled Tribe community), hire Yanadis to work for them. The conditions are harsh, with no electricity and no proper food,” says Ramesh.

In his report ‘Bonded Labour in India: Its Incidence and Pattern’, former Jawaharlal Nehru University professor Ravi S. Srivastava says that the Supreme Court directed all the States to collect information on the prevalence of bonded labour in India. The survey was held in 1996. No cases were identified in Andhra Pradesh. However, the government subsequently identified and released 37,988 bonded labourers till 2004.

“Since then, no systematic survey has been carried out. Bonded labour persists both in the agricultural and non-agricultural sector, although vestiges of hereditary bondage only exist in traditional sectors,” he says.

Of the 402 people who have been rescued in the past two years by the Vetti Vimochana Coalition, members say FIRs have been booked only in seven cases. “There is no Standard Operating Procedure or State action plan for the identification, rescue and rehabilitation of bonded labourers in Andhra Pradesh. On the other hand, States such as Tamil Nadu and Delhi have a robust system in place,” explains Kumar.

While the Bonded Labour Act provides for punishment for up to three years, there is no data on how many people have been punished. The law mandates a district-level vigilance and monitoring committee to be in place. “This was formed in Prakasam only last year,” Kumar says. Officials of the Revenue, Tribal Welfare, Social Welfare, and Labour Departments say they are not sure which of them is responsible for enforcing the Act.

“It is important to identify bonded labour as an organised crime,” says Venkateswarlu. “The government should have a nodal department to deal with pre- and post-rescue operations. It should also have a toll-free number for people in distress. If there had been one, Ankamma would not have lost her son.”

sravani.n@thehindu.co.in

This piece was edited by Radhika Santhanam