Under Modi govt plan, sanitation workers’ daughters turn smart cabbies in Delhi

Deepu (22), Trainee at the programme. Her father is a sanitation worker in Noida

A wind of change is quietly blowing in Delhi and is set to reach some of India’s other big cities soon with the Narendra Modi government trying to tweak an age old caste narrative, and improve lives trapped in extreme poverty and widespread discrimination.

In Tigdi Camp, one of the largest JJ clusters in Delhi, Malini sets out for her driving class, walking through a labyrinth of small, dilapidated houses.

“Collecting someone’s excreta in a bucket, and carrying it away on your head is the worst job in the world. My mother did it with her head covered in a veil. I hope to bring some dignity to our lives. I can exercise choice. She could not,” says the beaming 20-year-old as she gets into the car.
A wind of change is quietly blowing in Delhi and is set to reach some of India’s other big cities soon with the Narendra Modi government trying to tweak an age old caste narrative, and improve lives trapped in extreme poverty and widespread discrimination.

Every day, 250 young women – whose parents sweep streets or clean dry toilets and sewers – hit the road here to become ‘fighting fit and modern’ cab drivers that would fetch them several thousand rupees a month.

Having attended, in neighbourhood parks, short classes in spoken English and martial arts, these slum women – some of them sanitation workers themselves – are getting commercial driving lessons to work for taxi aggregators like Uber and Ola.

The union ministry of social justice and empowerment (SJE) has planned similar programmes for 900 women from other parts of the city. “Not just that. We will also do it in cities such as Chandigarh, Mumbai, Bengaluru, Kolkata and Chennai,” says SJE minister Thaawar Chand Gehlot.

Girls attending self-defence classes at a South Delhi park.

Soni’s father suffered serious injuries twice, becoming incapable of any labour. “It’s a wretched job he had to do. My mother has been doing his job for 10 years. I can see some hope in our lives now,” says the 22-year-old, tightly holding onto the steering wheel, struggling to negotiate morning peak traffic.

These trainees- all in the age group of 17-25 – come from the slums of Madangir, Sangam Vihar, Lal Kuan and Ambedkar Nagar in south Delhi. Laxmi has studied till class XII. She wants to have her own travel agency. “It’s a change I never imagined would happen,” she says. To begin with, 10 cars from motor driving schools have been engaged for training.

Women’s security

Senior SJE official Muniappa Nagaraj takes Mail Today to a city park where some of these women are repeating mannerism lessons. “We hear of molestation and rapes all the time. These drivers would also give a sense of security to women who travel at odd hours. We hope to have 3,000 women cab drivers in Delhi at some stage,” he says.

Neelam, Gulshan and Poonam are coordinators of the ongoing training programme.

For women like Malini’s mother, their fate is a result of lack of options. Dalits, the lowest caste in India’s social pecking order, do the job that others won’t. In their home in a Lal Kuan slum, Soni’s mother Geeta Devi is back from work. Wearing a tattered cotton saree, she sits quietly and talks about a vicious cycle. “Bhedbhav ke kaaran ham aur kuchh kar nahi paaye. Jo kaam kiya usse aur bhedbhav mila (We could not do any other job because of social discrimination. And because of what we did there was more discrimination),” she says, her voice choked and eyes welled up.

When the seven-month programme started in May these women were extremely low on confidence. They had perhaps never dreamt they would sit behind a steering wheel. Back in his Greater Kailash office, Nagaraj says they’re turning out to be quite smart. “They will be given loans to purchase their own vehicles. They can work for Uber and Meru with whom we have planned to sign agreements,” he says. As part of the scheme, these women also get Rs 1,500 per month as stipend.