Delhi Jal Board Enabling Manual Scavenging Despite National Ban

Delhi Jal Board Contractors Forcing Workers Into Banned Practice

The Law Exists, But the Practice Lives On

Manual scavenging has long been outlawed in India, but the reality on the ground paints a grim picture. Despite the legal ban, the practice continues, quietly sanctioned by powerful institutions. In 2022, the system claimed yet another life—Rohit, a sanitation worker employed in Delhi Development Authority (DDA) flats. His wife, Pinky, is still fighting for justice.

"Delhi Jal Board Responsible For My Husband's Death" 

According to Pinky, her husband was coerced into entering a manhole not once, but thrice on the same day, each time without any safety equipment. “He worked in DDA flats for five years without any issues. But that day, they made him go inside the manhole three times. The third time, he never came out,” she said.

She recalls seeing Rohit briefly during his lunch break that day. “He came home at 12:30 p.m. and left by 1:30. Around 2 p.m., they sent him back into the manhole. That was the last I saw of him. They said the pipe was blocked, and when they tried to break it open, he died inside,” she explained.

Pinky also pointed out that this was Rohit's first time being asked to enter a manhole. “If I had known what kind of work he was being made to do, I would never have let him go. Not for any amount of money,” she added. “They took advantage of his innocence. They must have lured him or threatened him.”

For Pinky, there is no ambiguity about who is to blame. She directly accuses the Delhi Jal Board, the Delhi Development Authority, and the Municipal Corporation of Delhi of being complicit in her husband’s death.

“I didn’t even get his phone or clothes back. He was made to enter that manhole in just his underwear,” she said. “All three agencies are responsible. They didn’t offer any help. His salary was stopped for a year. Even when they released it, it was only half. The government gave me ten lakh rupees, but I am still fighting in court. I’ve applied for a job several times, but nothing has come through. And it’s not just my husband—so many women have been widowed because of these manhole deaths.”

Outsourcing the Blame: Delhi Jal Board and the Contractor System

Among the multiple agencies under scrutiny, the Delhi Jal Board (DJB) has acquired a particularly notorious reputation. Officially, the Board denies employing manual scavengers or directly assigning workers to clean sewers. However, its widespread outsourcing system tells a different story.

Private contractors hired by the Delhi Jal Board frequently compel workers to enter sewers without any protective gear or safety protocols. These workers are not formally employed by the Board, allowing DJB to evade legal and moral responsibility.

Sudhir, a sewer worker, explained how the system operates. “We work for the Delhi Jal Board, but we are hired through contractors. The Board uses this setup to wash its hands off the responsibility,” he said.

He highlighted the clear violations of legal directives. “The High Court and the Supreme Court have both said no worker should enter a manhole. Yet officers still force us. If someone refuses, they’re threatened with job loss. The officer doesn’t think of us as human beings—just someone who has to get the work done,” he stated.

“The real issue is fear. There’s so much unemployment that we are forced to do it. If I don’t, I’ll be fired. And if I die inside, my family gets nothing. Who takes responsibility then?”

‘This Is Exploitation’: Workers Speak Out

Sudhir does not mince words. For him, the Delhi Jal Board’s system is a clear example of exploitation.

“If a labourer is being told to get into a manhole, it’s exploitation—plain and simple,” he said. “They know the worker will not refuse because the cost of refusal is too high. Say no today, and you’ll be out of work tomorrow. With no jobs and children to feed, what choice do we have?”

He adds, “It’s easy for an officer to give orders from above. But the person entering the manhole also has a family, a home, children. When he dies in a manhole, his family's suffering just begins.”

"I Was Forced Into A Manhole By DJB Officials"

Vinod, a manual scavenger contracted under the DJB, recounted a chilling episode that laid bare the hazardous reality of manual scavenging in the capital. Despite clear government directives banning the practice of entering manholes, Vinod says he was forced into one in 2022 by the DJB officials—an experience that continues to haunt him.

“I do sewer work—removing silt, clearing blockages. That’s my job with the DJB,” said Vinod. “The government has made a rule that you don’t have to enter a manhole, that it should be cleaned from the top only. But in 2022, I was made to go into a deep sewer by my contractor and DJB officials. It was completely full. Human excreta and silt were falling on me from all sides.”

When asked why he didn’t refuse the task, his response was stark. “There is so much unemployment,” he said. “If I say no, I lose the job. And the next man in line will take it.” According to him, the threat of being replaced is a powerful tool used to maintain silence and compliance. “This is how the system works. If one man refuses, another is immediately brought in. Everyone is desperate for work.”

Vinod alleged that it was a Junior Engineer from the Delhi Jal Board who instructed him to enter the manhole, directly contradicting the law and government policy. “Yes, it was our JE—the Junior Engineer—who told us to get in,” he confirmed.

The work, he says, is not just degrading—it is life-threatening. “It’s extremely dangerous. Ninety percent of the time, you don’t know which gas is present inside the sewer. There are three kinds. One of them—a pink, sweet-smelling gas—can make you feel cold and dizzy. It paralyzes the heart and lungs. The blood flow stops, and the worker dies on the spot,” he explained. “Most workers think it’s just dirt, but it’s far more deadly. There are poisonous gases inside, and many don’t even know about them.”

“Human Excreta Falls All Over Our Bare Bodies, Even on Our Heads, Inside Manholes”

When asked what he fears the most before entering a manhole, Vinod didn’t hesitate. “The biggest fear is that water might suddenly gush in from behind,” he said. But he wasn’t talking about clean water. “It’s sewer water—filled with human waste. Literally in a manhole, human excreta falls all over our bare body including our head,” he said. “We don’t get uniforms, so we wear our own clothes. The excreta falls on us. It has happened to me so many times—I’m not telling you something I’ve heard. I’ve lived it.”

Vinod’s experience is not unique. It reflects a larger pattern—one in which systemic apathy and desperation converge, forcing the most vulnerable to trade their dignity and safety for a day’s wage. Another worker, Kuldeep, echoed a grim acceptance of the norm.

“I’ve been doing this work from the beginning. I’m used to it now,” said Kuldeep. “At the DJB, whoever hires you says the same thing—this work must be done, no matter what.” When asked what happens if someone refuses, he replied, “Then we don’t get paid. They just tell us to find another job.”

Delhi Jal Board Denies Manual Scavenging, but Ground Reality is Different

The DJB continues to maintain that it relies exclusively on mechanised systems for cleaning sewers—insisting that manual scavenging is a relic of the past. But on the ground, a very different picture emerges. When a worker dies inside a manhole, what follows is not transparency or accountability, but silence. Investigations are delayed, questions are stonewalled, and the death is quietly forgotten. The system, it appears, is designed to protect itself—not the workers it routinely endangers.

“In Sarojini Nagar, recently, three sewer workers died,” said Mohsina Akhtar, National Coordinator at Dalit Adivasi Shakti Adhikar Manch (DASAM). “To follow up, we went to the administration for details so that we could reach out to the victims' families. But the authorities refused to share any information—not even their identities.”

Akhtar said this lack of transparency speaks volumes. “This is systemic negligence. They don’t want people to know that manual scavenging still exists. Maybe that’s the reason for the silence. There are proper mechanisms for sewer cleaning, and machinery should be used. But it's not just the government—it’s the people within the system: the Junior Engineers, the contractors, and those they hire.”

She added, “There’s a complete lack of supervision. If there were proper oversight or a structured mechanism in place, no one would be forced into this kind of work. But when one person—be it a supervisor, a JE, or a contractor—forces someone to enter a sewer, who is giving them that freedom? If we don’t hold individuals accountable, it becomes a nexus. And then it just continues.”

Outsourcing Exploitation: DJB and the Scourge of Manual Scavenging

India officially outlawed manual scavenging in 2013 with the enactment of the Prohibition of Employment as Manual Scavengers and their Rehabilitation Act. The law made it illegal to manually clean, carry, or dispose of human waste from sewers, septic tanks, and dry latrines. More than a decade later, the practice not only persists—it thrives under a veil of bureaucratic denial and contractual loopholes.

Ashok Kumar, Joint Secretary of DASAM, placed the blame squarely on the state. “The responsibility lies completely with the government,” he said. “These workers are doing the government’s job, but the government hides behind contractors to get the work done. They're wasting public money to outsource work that should be done directly.”

Kumar argued that sewer cleaning is not temporary or occasional—it’s a permanent, essential function. “This is permanent work. Why doesn’t the DJB employ these workers directly and give them proper wages, facilities, and rights?” he asked. “If the work is permanent, the jobs should be too.”

Despite clear legal prohibitions, government agencies such as the Delhi Jal Board and the Municipal Corporation of Delhi have managed to bypass the law by handing over sewer cleaning to private contractors. This outsourcing not only violates the spirit and letter of the 2013 Act but also creates a buffer of deniability for state institutions.

Through this system, manual scavenging has been effectively normalised. It is institutionalised exploitation—hidden behind contracts, cloaked in technicalities, and sustained by silence.