Voices of Child Labourers from Maharashtra

This is the story of inequity Of children living in poverty In the villages, towns and big city We seek change, not charity.

If food and shelter, play and school Is not for me, only for you, Then what is freedom, what is right, My strength flails before your might, They say this country was made free, May be for you, but not for me. Our Demand is Children's Rights We stand committed to this fight.

I am Sangu, eight years old, My brother on my hip I hold, All day I have to cook and clean School for me is a distant dream. A creche in every school, I say Will let me study, sing and play.

On this cold dark winter's morn I wake up at the crack of dawn Fill the water, sweep the floor And still there's always something more Then walk to school, five miles away Tired before the start of day. My school should be within a mile So I can walk it with a smile.

Harvest time for sugarcane Time to move out once again Right now we have some debts to clear School can wait another year. Land in every family's name, Ensures we don't miss school again.

"How is it you're not in school?" To all it seems, I am a fool. Without a teacher in the class How could I ever hope to pass? Books and uniform, not brought in time Is poverty my parents' crime. A school that works is our dream With uniforms, books, a large playground.

Cuts and bruises are nothing new I've had them since I was over two Picking scraps from dump and bin, "Ouch" that glass has pierced my skin. Infected wounds I know I can kill But who will pay my doctor's bill?

One man's poison, another's meat But for us there's nothing to eat Soon we learn to appreciate A frugal meal, however late. Give us this day our mid-day meal With your budgets it's no big deal.

Tinker, tailor, garage boy Work is torture, not a joy At the end of a long and tiring day I have no time for fun or play. I must have play space as well as time To keep me from a life of crime.

We walk together to work and back The scrap shared equally in our sacks Back at home, I've much more to do Can't I share his leisure too? Our needs are similar, don't you see Treat girls and boys both equally.

I sweep, I swab, I dust and clean And though my memsahib is not mean I'd like to learn and play and dance For girls like me, there's not a chance. From dawn to dusk I walk the street With aching back and blistered feet The smell of garbage makes me retch A sackful of paper, what will it fetch?

The biting cold, the burning sun 'Go graze the cattle, little one' Says father, even as I suggest That school is what I like best. Old man Patil had a farm Where young boys slogged from early dawn Weeding planting, cutting grass When we should have been in class.

From six to six I'm serving tea Sandwiches, Bhel, fruit juice, and coffee For each mistake, I pay a cost A broken cup a rupee lost. I mend bikes from eight to eight Get soundly thrashed when I am late Anything that I might break Is deducted from the money I make.

To stop us working underage Give our parents a decent wage. If you're seeking Social Justice Abolish all child labour practice.

[Courtesy: Action for the Rights of the Child, Pune]