Employment crisis forces villagers to observe nation's first ever self-imposed curfew

Employment crisis forces villagers to observe nation's first ever self-imposed curfew
K S MANOJKUMAR

AURANGABAD, OCT 11: Even the tightest of all curfews may never present such a deserted and frightening sight.

Not one of the 40,000 people who inhabit some seven scattered villages in Paithan tehsil were visible no matter how hard one tried to search for them.

No labourers in the field, no children in schools, no craftsmen under shady trees, or the usual group of old people near the village temple. A deadly silence enveloped the whole area.

And no, nothing was wrong with the law and order situation.

The villagers, who together had surrendered over 285 hectares of their land to the state government to develop an industrial area in 1974, were on Wednesday observing what could well be called the first ever self-imposed `janata curfew' in the country to attract the government's attention on the pitiful state of unemployment in the seven villages.

When in 1974 these villagers gave away their `golden fields' to the Maharashtra Government to develop the Maharashtra State Industrial Development Corporation, they sincerely believed the era of socio-economic development had begun for them.

``We dreamt of jobs for our sons in the industrial plants, and prosperity for the region,'' says a dejected Jairam Kadwane, sarpanch of Dhangaon village.

For a while, things seems to be working towards that end. Dhangaon, Waigaon, Isarwadi, Pimpalwadi, Mudalwadi, Narayangaon and Ganesh Nagar were buzzing with activity. Many industrial units including big ones like Jain Synthetic, Jain Spinners and Universal Luggage were mushrooming in the area. Soon their number rose to a whopping 156. The dream of the villagers seemed to have come true.

``But gradually we learnt how short-lived our dreams would be. In a flash the industries began closing down bringing the whole life in the area to a standstill,'' says Shivkumar Patil, convenor of the Paithan Industrial Settlement Development Committee. Today less than 2,000 of the 40,000 people here have any means to feed their families.

The reason was not hard to find - the industrialists' honeymoon with the MIDC area had ended. The tax holidays, the subsidies that new industries in backward zones are entitled to in the initial years had exhausted and so had the enthusiasm of the entrepreneurs who had set shop here.

The villagers now wonder whether parting with their lands was a good idea at all. ``What is absent in this area? There is plenty of water, a well maintained infrastructure, cheap labour. (The few of the lucky employed earn just about Rs 40, after sweating out in a eight hour shift). Then why can the government not ask the industries to come up here?'' asks Shabeer Ahmed.

And to make matters worse, a prolonged strike in one of the major companies, ended up with the murder of one of the company general managers, about ten years ago. That was enough reason for the companies here to put a ban on local recruitment.

``Though everyone knows the real accused was an `outsider', it is us locals who have had to suffer the punishment, says Shivkumar. But that is only an excuse.

We tried every way, boycott of State and Parliament elections, rasta roko, sit ins and demonstrations, but no one seems to take notice of us. The Shiv Sena says it would think about the problem only when we help them build up a sound cadre for the party in the area. Congressmen are no better, says the sarpanch, Kadwane.

After a few brain storming sessions under the peepal tree, the villagers hit upon the idea of a `janata curfew'. The idea would be novel enough to attract wide attention, the committee assumed. It did. The curfew was total. Only, none from the government peeped to see what revolution was building up in the seven hamlets. ``You can take our word. Next time our ideas might be more explosive,'' says a labourer.