Saturday, March 03, 2007
Indiaââ¬â¢s poor losing out to the nationââ¬â¢s global ambitions
By Muneeza Naqvi
Across India there is a chaotic and congested urban landscape, where the poor often squat within view of gleaming glass towers
FOR Pramila Singh, the lucky mornings are the ones she spends elbowing her way through a throng of women, all of them fighting for a few buckets and cans of water.
On the unlucky mornings - that is, the vast majority of them - the 45-year-old just sits and waits outside her one-room shack for a municipal water truck to show up in the new shantytown she calls home on the edge of Indiaââ¬â¢s capital.
Singh is among the hundreds of thousands of slum dwellers displaced over the past year as New Delhi officials set about razing the slums and shantytowns that dot the city after the countryââ¬â¢s Supreme Court ordered authorities to tear down illegally constructed buildings.
The idea is to create a showcase capital that matches Indiaââ¬â¢s global ambitions. And as has often been the case in recent years in booming India, the visibly poor arenââ¬â¢t meant to be a part of the picture. Thatââ¬â¢s not to say New Delhi authorities have gone after only the poor in their demolition drive - everything from glitzy malls to grimy shops have been torn down since the court started ordering the demolitions in 2005.
But those demolitions have sparked repeated protests and an intense public debate. In contrast, few here have taken much notice or raised serious objections to the destruction of at least five sprawling slums and shantytowns and the forced relocation of their inhabitants - no one can say exactly how many people - to isolated patches of land miles from New Delhi.
Singh, along with her five children and husband, were packed off last August from Nangla Machi, the slum where they lived on the banks of the ****** Yamuna river, to an undeveloped piece of dusty land owned by the government near this village 40 kilometres west of New Delhi. ââ¬ÅIn all my life my neighbours had never heard me raise my voice, and now this is what Iââ¬â¢m reduced to,ââ¬Â Singh said as she was pushed back from her place in the water line.
In the eyes of the law, Singhââ¬â¢s family and thousands of others are now legally resettled. Officials even say they have helped the former slum dwellers by giving them the right to buy handkerchief-size plots of land.
In reality, most like Singh are now unemployed because their new houses are too far from their old jobs, and even if they wanted to buy the land - which most donââ¬â¢t - many could not afford it. So again they squat.
Singhââ¬â¢s misfortune is in many ways a reflection of Indiaââ¬â¢s failure to meet the demands of a fast urbanizing country.
A lack of planning in dozens of Indian cities - from small regional centres to major metropolises, such as New Delhi - coupled with the pressure of a growing population has led in the past few decades to a complete disregard for zoning or building laws.
The result across India is chaotic and congested urban landscapes, where the poor often squat within view of gleaming glass towers.
In New Delhi, itââ¬â¢s estimated that nearly half the cityââ¬â¢s 14 million people live in illegally built neighbourhoods.
Some are essentially posh suburbs built on what was once farmland, most of which have so far been spared the wrecking ball. But many are slums, and they are being torn down.
ââ¬ÅThere is a certain image of an urban aesthetic, a look a city should have and the courts seem to have an impatience to achieve this,ââ¬Â says Shveta Sarda, who ran a computer centre for children in the slum. She now goes once a week to residentsââ¬â¢ new settlement.
The courts ââ¬Åseem to be in a hurry to create a certain kind of city,ââ¬Â she added.
The slums torn down were hardly transitory weigh stations for the newly arrived rural poor. Nangla Machi was built on the fly ash deposit behind a power plant and the older residents had lived there since the late 1970s. A fairly big settlement, it had about 6,000 homes and a population of nearly 70,000.
The homes were modest but permanent - some had a second story, and most had electricity and running water.
ââ¬ÅIt was a community. I knew my neighbours and their children,ââ¬Â says Yajvendra Nagar, 22, a community worker who also lived in the area.
Now Singhââ¬â¢s home is some rolled bamboo mats hung off bamboo poles. Over this makeshift hut she has plastered a mixture of mud and cow dung to keep out the winter chill.
All around the huge, dusty compound are clusters of other such homes, the best that anyone here can afford.
When they have water, residents use open patches of land for washing clothes and dirty dishes and bathing.
But other activities canââ¬â¢t be put off for times when there is water, and the smell from the makeshift toilets is overwhelming.
Singh and her new neighbours are luckier than others. Only those who can provide proof theyââ¬â¢ve lived in a slum since before 1998 are relocated. Many canââ¬â¢t, but they often move to the new resettlement area anyway, preferring to tough it out with family and friends.
The government acknowledges that the relocation program is flawed.
ââ¬ÅThe orders to shift a squatter population come first and facilities are only put in place gradually later, so there is a mismatch,ââ¬Â says SK Mahajan, a senior official in the municipal departmentââ¬â¢s slum relocation wing.
The government has promised loans to those resettled so they can build new homes, but almost no one has received one.
ââ¬ÅThey are often without documents and can just disappear,ââ¬Â says Mahajan, explaining why the loans arenââ¬â¢t forthcoming.
Having spent a winter with temperatures dipping to about 40 degrees Fahrenheit and looking ahead to north Indiaââ¬â¢s brutal summer, thatââ¬â¢s little comfort to families like the Singhs.
ââ¬ÅIf the government doesnââ¬â¢t give us loans, how will people like us build houses?ââ¬Â says Singhââ¬â¢s husband, Surendra Kumar Singh, who had to leave his job as a clerk in a travel agency when his family was relocated.
ââ¬ÅSoon only the beautiful Delhi will remain,ââ¬Â he says. ââ¬ÅThe rest of the city will be made to disappear like us. Thatââ¬â¢s how Delhi will become Paris.ââ¬Â ap
http://www.dailytimes.com.pk/default.asp?page=2007\03\03\story_3-3-2007_pg4_19
Indiaââ¬â¢s poor losing out to the nationââ¬â¢s global ambitions
By Muneeza Naqvi
Across India there is a chaotic and congested urban landscape, where the poor often squat within view of gleaming glass towers
FOR Pramila Singh, the lucky mornings are the ones she spends elbowing her way through a throng of women, all of them fighting for a few buckets and cans of water.
On the unlucky mornings - that is, the vast majority of them - the 45-year-old just sits and waits outside her one-room shack for a municipal water truck to show up in the new shantytown she calls home on the edge of Indiaââ¬â¢s capital.
Singh is among the hundreds of thousands of slum dwellers displaced over the past year as New Delhi officials set about razing the slums and shantytowns that dot the city after the countryââ¬â¢s Supreme Court ordered authorities to tear down illegally constructed buildings.
The idea is to create a showcase capital that matches Indiaââ¬â¢s global ambitions. And as has often been the case in recent years in booming India, the visibly poor arenââ¬â¢t meant to be a part of the picture. Thatââ¬â¢s not to say New Delhi authorities have gone after only the poor in their demolition drive - everything from glitzy malls to grimy shops have been torn down since the court started ordering the demolitions in 2005.
But those demolitions have sparked repeated protests and an intense public debate. In contrast, few here have taken much notice or raised serious objections to the destruction of at least five sprawling slums and shantytowns and the forced relocation of their inhabitants - no one can say exactly how many people - to isolated patches of land miles from New Delhi.
Singh, along with her five children and husband, were packed off last August from Nangla Machi, the slum where they lived on the banks of the ****** Yamuna river, to an undeveloped piece of dusty land owned by the government near this village 40 kilometres west of New Delhi. ââ¬ÅIn all my life my neighbours had never heard me raise my voice, and now this is what Iââ¬â¢m reduced to,ââ¬Â Singh said as she was pushed back from her place in the water line.
In the eyes of the law, Singhââ¬â¢s family and thousands of others are now legally resettled. Officials even say they have helped the former slum dwellers by giving them the right to buy handkerchief-size plots of land.
In reality, most like Singh are now unemployed because their new houses are too far from their old jobs, and even if they wanted to buy the land - which most donââ¬â¢t - many could not afford it. So again they squat.
Singhââ¬â¢s misfortune is in many ways a reflection of Indiaââ¬â¢s failure to meet the demands of a fast urbanizing country.
A lack of planning in dozens of Indian cities - from small regional centres to major metropolises, such as New Delhi - coupled with the pressure of a growing population has led in the past few decades to a complete disregard for zoning or building laws.
The result across India is chaotic and congested urban landscapes, where the poor often squat within view of gleaming glass towers.
In New Delhi, itââ¬â¢s estimated that nearly half the cityââ¬â¢s 14 million people live in illegally built neighbourhoods.
Some are essentially posh suburbs built on what was once farmland, most of which have so far been spared the wrecking ball. But many are slums, and they are being torn down.
ââ¬ÅThere is a certain image of an urban aesthetic, a look a city should have and the courts seem to have an impatience to achieve this,ââ¬Â says Shveta Sarda, who ran a computer centre for children in the slum. She now goes once a week to residentsââ¬â¢ new settlement.
The courts ââ¬Åseem to be in a hurry to create a certain kind of city,ââ¬Â she added.
The slums torn down were hardly transitory weigh stations for the newly arrived rural poor. Nangla Machi was built on the fly ash deposit behind a power plant and the older residents had lived there since the late 1970s. A fairly big settlement, it had about 6,000 homes and a population of nearly 70,000.
The homes were modest but permanent - some had a second story, and most had electricity and running water.
ââ¬ÅIt was a community. I knew my neighbours and their children,ââ¬Â says Yajvendra Nagar, 22, a community worker who also lived in the area.
Now Singhââ¬â¢s home is some rolled bamboo mats hung off bamboo poles. Over this makeshift hut she has plastered a mixture of mud and cow dung to keep out the winter chill.
All around the huge, dusty compound are clusters of other such homes, the best that anyone here can afford.
When they have water, residents use open patches of land for washing clothes and dirty dishes and bathing.
But other activities canââ¬â¢t be put off for times when there is water, and the smell from the makeshift toilets is overwhelming.
Singh and her new neighbours are luckier than others. Only those who can provide proof theyââ¬â¢ve lived in a slum since before 1998 are relocated. Many canââ¬â¢t, but they often move to the new resettlement area anyway, preferring to tough it out with family and friends.
The government acknowledges that the relocation program is flawed.
ââ¬ÅThe orders to shift a squatter population come first and facilities are only put in place gradually later, so there is a mismatch,ââ¬Â says SK Mahajan, a senior official in the municipal departmentââ¬â¢s slum relocation wing.
The government has promised loans to those resettled so they can build new homes, but almost no one has received one.
ââ¬ÅThey are often without documents and can just disappear,ââ¬Â says Mahajan, explaining why the loans arenââ¬â¢t forthcoming.
Having spent a winter with temperatures dipping to about 40 degrees Fahrenheit and looking ahead to north Indiaââ¬â¢s brutal summer, thatââ¬â¢s little comfort to families like the Singhs.
ââ¬ÅIf the government doesnââ¬â¢t give us loans, how will people like us build houses?ââ¬Â says Singhââ¬â¢s husband, Surendra Kumar Singh, who had to leave his job as a clerk in a travel agency when his family was relocated.
ââ¬ÅSoon only the beautiful Delhi will remain,ââ¬Â he says. ââ¬ÅThe rest of the city will be made to disappear like us. Thatââ¬â¢s how Delhi will become Paris.ââ¬Â ap
http://www.dailytimes.com.pk/default.asp?page=2007\03\03\story_3-3-2007_pg4_19