Let’s set all these slums on fire

Chennai slums are under the threat of frequent fire accidents. Where does the fire break out from? Travelling through the Chennai slums...

Chennai, February 4: One month passed after the calendar turned and a new decade began. The year that passed left no sign of hope for Chennai’s slum-dwellers. The year 2009 instilled a new fear in their minds; of fire breaking out from unknown sources which reduces their huts, and lives, to ashes.

According to the register of Tamil Nadu Fire and Rescue Services (data from January 2009 up to December 2009 for the Chennai city alone, collected from the Tamil Nadu Fire and Rescue Services Control Room, Egmore, Chennai), of 263 cases of fire accidents (out of which some were in fishermen’s settlements) in slums, 691 huts were destroyed which caused a loss of over Rs. 50 lakhs. There is no information on the number of deaths except that in the cases of “accidents” at Sheela Nagar, Madippakkam where three of a four-member family were burnt to death and at Mandapam road, Kiruppakkam where a 12-year-old girl died.

The register has no record of five deaths in the accident at JJ Nagar, Korukkuppettai or the case of one death at Ponnusami Nagar, Perambur; both of which were reported by the media. Also it is mentioned only as “so many huts” for the number of huts destroyed in the cases of major accidents at JJ Nagar, Ponnusami Nagar, Adambakkam, Tachinamkutham, SS Nagar and many where. In the register it is shown only 75 huts been destroyed in SS Nagar, Vyasarpadi, where there were media reports showing it to be more than 200 huts. The estimate of loss of properties is way off the actual loss.

There is no separate register for the fire accidents in slums or any focused attention to the unprecedented increase in the number of such cases. An additional reading of the increasing number of huts demolished or families evacuated from the slums in the city brings the missing parts to form the full canvas of the issue. The politics of negligence in this case is clearly the politics of eviction and extinction.

Sirumbai (55), who lives in Gandhi Nagar, Perungudi had lost her hut in a fire accident at the colony on September 23. She is the only bread-winner in her four-member family. After the hut got destroyed by the fire she has managed to get another hut for rent in the same colony. “It will cost a minimum of Rs. 30,000 to build a new hut. Where can I get that much amount?” she grieved. All 50 families who lost their huts and other properties got only Rs.2,000 each as compensation by the government.

Panjali, another woman in the same colony, says that her younger brother was severely injured and lost his leg by the fire and it took more than Rs. 15,000 for his medical expenses. Those like Panjali’s family who had been staying in rented huts were not paid the compensation. “We don’t have anything, not even a hut. But we have not been given anything,” said Panjali.

Pazhaniyamma, a puttu (steam cake) vendor who lives in Awaipuram lost her hut by a fire accident in their colony on May 25 which burnt more than 200 huts in the area. She got a loan of rupees one lakh from a local money lender with a high interest rate to rebuild her hut.  She says mockingly, “The compensation amount was sufficient only for five days’ food for the family.”

The families who lost their huts also lost their valuable documents including ration cards. Therefore, they are unable to buy the one-rupee-a-kilo rice from the local PDS ration shop. “We have applied for new ration cards just days after the accident. But months after, the authority pays no attention to it.”- says one of the victims.

The loss of ration card and other certificates leaves no proof for their identity or existence. Most of the slums which caught major fire accidents were listed to be evacuated by the government for various ‘developmental’ purposes such as bridges, fly-over, road widening and so on.

The slum in Shenoy Nagar was listed to be evacuated for a flyover to be constructed on the site along the Cooem river. The fire broke out here on the same day that the authorities fixed as the deadline for the families there to vacate the huts. “None of us still know the source of fire which broke out at around 4 O’clock in the evening,” said Pazhaniyamma from the place. Anushya (47), who has been living in the colony for over 27 years said, “They (officials) had come here three days before the accident and threatened us to vacate the place in three days. It was on a Saturday they had come here and the fire had broken out exactly three days after, on Monday”

A boy from the colony showed me the deserted river bank where numerous huts stood before they were razed to the ground. Only five-six families have managed to rebuild their huts there by taking loans from local money lenders. Those who could not afford to it have moved to rented huts in the nearby colonies. Srinivasan from the colony said, “Even if they (the government) construct the fly-over here, we won’t get any new houses (at the rehabilitation centre or else where) since they are not demolishing our huts. They would say that our huts are not destroyed by them. It seems that the fire was a boon to them.”

A fact finding team of concerned citizens had found that in MGR Nagar, Nandambakkam authorities had placed boards at the accident site days after the mishap saying not to rebuild houses there. They had created fences there in order to prevent the victims enter the site again. “After the accidents, the victims at many places were forcibly displaced to other places where they were not willing to go,” said A Marx, the state organiser of the People’s Union for Human Rights and one of the members of the fact-finding team.

Santi, a flower seller, who lives in Perungudi showed the interiors of her small hut behind the railway station here. A single room and a kitchen roofed by coconut leaves, there live Santi with her husband and sister. One has to bow head inside the hut not to hit on the ceiling. There is little space left for anything as their belongings swell out from their positions. The kitchen is enmeshed with electricity wires leaving a high possibility for short-circuit. The kerosene stove is placed at a platform just one metre below the roof. A tiny lamp was still flaming before a small Pillaiyarar idol placed at an arrangement for prayers in a corner of the room.

A George, a fire officer in the city says that there are incidents when rats take these kinds of small lamps to the roof of the huts which causes fire accidents in slums. Does Santi know that even the rat is a part of this society which looks down upon slums and murmurs, “Let’s set all these slums on fire?”

** Postscript: Pazhaniyamma, a victim of the fire accident at Shenoy Nagar, said that she and her family are ready to go to any where else if the government is asking them to vacate the colony. She said that they simply can’t survive such fire accidents which take along every thing they have. But eviction-rehabilitation process is yet another story.

In ‘Kanavu’, dreams take shape

‘Kanavu’, a creative school for tribal children in a remote village called Chengode in Wayanad was conceived by K.J. Baby, a well known Malayalam littérateur and playwright, way back in 1994. It is now an institution run by his former students.Tracking its dream-run during the last two years under the new administration.                                                            - Photo: PT Thufail

Manantawady, January 10: Nearly seven years after, once again I travelled up the dream mountain to meet the children of dream (Kanavu). The creative school for the tribal children in a village called Changode was a dream weaved and fulfilled by the famous Malayalam literateaure and playwright KJ Baby. As an eighth standard student, it was these students here whom I had looked upon most enviously when I was taken to Kanavu as part of a camp organised by Civic Chandran, an ex-naxal, thinker and a poet. And it was here I realised the true meaning of education.

Years later, Kanavu (means dream) has not changed much, except that the wooden bridge across the small river behind the school is now concrete. The foot prints of deer still remained on the banks of the river as if it has survived the age. Chathi, Leela, Chipran and the other students there had grown up. I could hardly remember their names, but I tried to trace the memory of their visages, at least. The patron of the school Baby Mama, as he was called affectionately, is no longer with the school. As he had promised them, two years ago he had handed over the complete administration of Kanavu to its elder students, though he and his wife Sherley, who lived most of their life with these children, occasionally visit them and offer them advice and support.

“It felt as if the father was leaving home when Baby Mama told us that the time had come for us to run Kanavu,” recollected Leela, a student at Kanavu who now holds key responsibilities in the new administration. “It was also his dream to see Kanavu being run by its own students so that it survived after him. We are trying our level best to live up to his expectations,” she said.

The elders here, all of whom in their twenties, have taken up different responsibilities to handle. Leela takes care of public relations and guests. Food and kitchen management is the responsibility of Ammini. Chathi and Suresh are the programme coordinators. Santhosh looks after the small children while Mankulu is in-charge of the library and Saji holds the post of the advisory councilor.

“We had a hard time after the departure of Baby Mama in mid-2007,” said Chathi, another student here. “Finance was the biggest problem. Even when Baby Mama was with Kanavu, we never took donations from outsiders except when we felt their contribution was sincere and unconditional. For months, under our new administration, we ran short of funds. There was a shortage of people for our stage performances. Some of them left the school, some went away for further studies and some left after marriage. We could not afford to take any more new students in Kanavu.” he added.

The students in Kanavu have their own paddy, tapioca and vegetable farm for food. They also rear cattle in the backyard. However, since its inception, the major revenue for Kanavu has been drawn from their stage performances in various places.

Music, dance, agriculture,Kalaripayattu the martial art form of Kerala, pottery, tailoring and handicrafts were introduced in Kanavu by Baby as part of their education and curriculum. Baby believed that when one identified with rhythm, songs, proverbs and the soil, then they discovered their very selves. He wanted to create a group who loved each other and reached out to their next generation. Into their songs they filled the history of their land, the struggle for survival, the guerilla fights against the seafarers who invaded their forests, the passion and their virtue. Through their traditional dances to the tune of the thudi, a traditional musical instrument, they learnt to respect their culture and the self.

The students at Kanavu are taught to speak fluently in multiple languages; the different dialects of the adivasi communities which comprise Adiya, Paniya, Kuruma, Kurichya, Katunaikar and others, Malayalam and even English and in some cases, Hindi. They are no less than any other student of the state’s formal education system in terms of their knowledge of Mathematics, Science or the Social sciences. The children of Kanavu had the great opportunities of watching international films and even to work for the creation of a film of their own.

Kanavu has never followed a syllabus like the formal education system, and it still doesn’t. Those who are willing to pursue formal education have the choice of attending the open schools. Kanavu gives necessary assistance to such students.

Today there are 35 students in total. Unlike in the past, now the children are sent to the nearby school. “When Baby Mama was here we had teachers coming in who were his friends,” explained Chathi. But, now they are tutored by the elders after school. Thus the typical Kanavu days are restricted to Saturdays and Sundays for the children. The elders still follow the old Kanavu routine. The day begins with kalarippayattu, followed by cleaning of the school and its premises, breakfast, agricultural work in the field, handicrafts class and dance and music in the evening. Classes are conducted for the younger ones at night. Every day, before going to bed, plans are made for the next day.

Towards the end of last year, all the members of the Kanavu family, including those who left the school for further studies and for a family life, had a reunion at the school. In the meeting a broad plan of Kanavu activities were charted out for the year ahead. In the same month, they were booked for stage performances in cities outside the state, like Mumbai and Chennai. This year, they are on a new mission to get more such bookings. Also they have decided to conduct study camps for children including those of non-tribals.

They are not building castles in the air. In Kanavu dreams are becoming realities.