Laxmi Tharu, Rajapur, Bardiya
I grew up knowing only the ways of slavery. I learned early on that our survival was dependent on a small plot of farmland bestowed to us by the landlord after each harvest. The menfolk in our family would work the fields, while the women took care of household duties. Finances were very tight; there was never any spare cash for medical expenses or any other urgent necessities, and we always had to go back to the landlord for loans to pay for any emergencies.
When I got married, it was into another family of Kamaiyas, which meant a continuation of the exploitation and harassment my own family had long suffered. For my part, I worked for three different landlord families during my days as a domestic slave, and each time, it was more or less the same story of cruelty. I was treated like an object, heaped on with endless backbreaking chores—in one place, they’d even wake me up in the middle of the night just to scream at me for not working hard enough.
The news of the abolition of the Kamaiya system in 2000, then, came as an incredible relief to all of us; it was something we had so longed to hear for so many years. And our excitement knew no bounds when the government announced that each Kamaiya household would be eligible to receive five kathhas of land. We were looking forward to finally casting off the chains of our past and starting anew, building new lives for ourselves and our children.
That elation, however, proved short-lived. When we went to the local government office to apply for the promised land grant, the officials there informed us that our names were not included on the list of beneficiaries. We couldn’t understand why this was the case—our family was, after all, more than eligible to receive the support.
Without land, we grew increasingly despondent and desperate. My husband and I took up daily wage labor in order to feed our family of four, but the pay was exceedingly low because of the oversupply of freed Kamaiyas and Kamlaris like us who also needed to make a living. If we didn’t take the job and agree to the offered wage, there would be many other former slaves who would happily take our place. And since we had few other skills—there had been no opportunity to learn anything when we had been bound to the landlords—daily wage work was our only source of income.
It was only later on that we discovered the truth: one of our previous landlords had mentioned to officials that we owned one kattha of land, and we had thus been disqualified from the grant list. And we weren’t the only victims of such contemptible, petty behavior. Many other landlords, taking advantage of the illiteracy of the Kamaiyas and Kamlaris under them, had filled out the government forms on their behalf and ruined their chances of financial freedom, a cunning way to force these families to return and continue working for them.
And the trick worked in the case of many freed slaves. Without an alternative means to earn a livelihood, many went back to their old masters to work as farm hands. My family was, however, fortunate enough to not have to make that choice. In any case, I would much rather try my luck at working for daily wages than relive that nightmare.
There are still a host of problems affecting our community. Some are not even aware that the Kamaiya system has been abolished and are still in the grip of their landlords. Many others, like us, despite being technically unchained, have been deprived of land grants and are struggling to make a basic living. Either way, life is hard, and our freedom incomplete.
The government’s apathy to our plight has made a mockery not just of the laws of this land but also numerous international treaties to which the country is a signatory. We are being denied the opportunity to lead a dignified life, and our circumstances have not much improved—and in some cases have stayed the same—from when we were slaves.
If something is not done right away, we risk relegating a new generation of Kamaiya and Kamlari children to the same fate we struggled so hard to escape. The United Nations, along with other civil society and government stakeholders, must look into the issue seriously, and help to develop concrete plans and policies related to the rehabilitation of former slaves. Everyone should have a right to education, health, employment and dignity.
Alongside this, the former slaves themselves should also rally together and find strength in numbers. Social activism has been an important tool in bringing our concerns to the fore so far. We have, for instance, managed to set up a community network to help fellow Kamaiyas and Kamlaris to better access justice, which has proved invaluable in assisting them in acquiring birth certificates, citizenship cards and other government documents.
It was this forum that also gave me the support I needed to enter politics and be elected as a ward member for Rajapur in the 2017 local elections. I am committed to making the most of my position, using all the power and resources at my disposal to continue pushing for the rights of my people, to ensure that the new lives we were promised actually materialize.