Why is manual scavenging still happening in India? A caste-based crisis ignored

On a warm summer morning in 2025, a sea of quiet but defiant protestors gathered at Jantar Mantar in New Delhi. They weren’t asking for privilege. They were asking simply to live—with dignity, with safety, and without being forced into one of the most dehumanising forms of labour: manual scavenging.

Their banners bore a haunting refrain: “Stop killing us.” Behind that cry is a harsh reality that India might not have fully addressed: a dehumanising practice that is illegal but remains prevalent in dry latrines, septic tanks, and sewers all over the nation. At the heart of this movement is the Safai Karmachari Andolan, a collective led by people who have long been compelled to manually clean human waste, is at the centre of the movement to put an end to it. Their voices, joined by activists, allies, and those who will not turn a blind eye, rise not just out of rage but in a strong call for justice, dignity, and long-overdue acknowledgement.

"We have been protesting for 700 days across the length and breadth of the country," said Amar Beniwal of Safai Karmachari Andolan, Uttarakhand.

A system built on caste and denial

Manual scavenging is not a job. It is a caste-assigned fate, passed down through generations. The people who do this work belong to Dalit communities like Valmiki, Dom, Hari and others. Despite modern India's glossy infrastructure ambitions and high-speed digital economy, thousands of them continue to manually clean dry latrines, sewers, and open drains. Many do this without protective gear, without training, and often without pay.

“We are not just fighting against poverty or lack of employment,” said Ramona, a Safai Karmachari Andolan activist from Punjab who attended the protest. “We are fighting against a system that tells us we belong in filth.”

“On March 16, 2025, three more lives were added to that tragic count when they were forced into a manhole in New Friends Colony, Delhi. One man died. The other two are battling for life in a hospital ward—scars not only on their bodies, but on the nation’s conscience,” she added.

When progress bypasses the marginalised

The Government of India boasts about its sanitation achievements: over Rs. 55,000 crore spent and 110 million toilets constructed. India enacted the Prohibition of Employment as Manual Scavengers and their Rehabilitation Act (PEMSR Act, 2013) to legally ban manual scavenging and promote rehabilitation for those engaged in it. To support this, the Ministry of Social Justice and Empowerment launched the Self-Employment Scheme for Rehabilitation of Manual Scavengers (SRMS) in January 2017 by the Ministry of Social Justice and Empowerment, aiming to assist identified manual scavengers and their dependents in transitioning to alternative livelihoods. 

In 2023–24, this scheme was replaced by the National Action for Mechanised Sanitation Ecosystem (NAMASTE), with an allocation of Rs. 97.41 crore. The initiative, with a projected budget of Rs. 350 crores extending to the fiscal year 2025-26, seeks to encompass approximately 3,480 Urban Local Bodies and provide benefits to an estimated one lakh sewer and septic tank workers. However, despite these policy shifts and financial commitments, the disconnect between the promises on paper and the realities on the ground remains deeply troubling. How can a democracy allow this?

Women in manual scavenging: Forgotten by law, trapped by caste and poverty

Manual scavenging is brutal for anyone. But for women, it becomes a triple burden—of caste, gender, and poverty. These women work in isolation. They are cut off from healthcare, education, and even clean water. Many live in localities without piped water supply. Most are unregistered, meaning they don’t officially exist in the eyes of the government. The PEMSR, passed in 2013, was supposed to change this. It hasn’t.

There are dry latrines in 36 districts in the states of Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh, Bihar, Jharkhand and Jammu and Kashmir. A 2021 an end of the action study undertaken for WaterAid India by Amita Bhaduri and Sharada Prasad conducted across the states of Uttar Pradesh and Jharkhand indicated that despite having Aadhaar cards, voter IDs, and ration cards, nearly all the 123 surveyed women manual scavengers said they weren’t enlisted under PEMSR. Without that recognition, the benefits they are entitled to—rehabilitation, alternative employment, loans, or scholarships—remain out of reach. Only 6.5% of those surveyed appear in the government’s official list of manual scavengers.

An epidemic of denial

The government has repeatedly denied the ongoing practice of manual scavenging. Reports to Parliament often echo the same message: "It has been eradicated." But the community knows otherwise—and they carry the burden of this denial in their bodies and homes. “a nation that has reached space and sends satellites still has states relying on dry latrines and women safai karmacharis for cleaning, despite overall infrastructure, science, and technology advancements,” says Deepti Sukumar, Safai Karmachari Andolan.

"How can you stop killing us if you won’t even admit that we are being killed?" asked Bezwada Wilson, founder of Safai Karmachari Andolan and one of India’s leading voices against manual scavenging. His question is not rhetorical—it is a challenge. While the Indian government promotes robotic solutions under the Swachh Bharat mission to end manual scavenging, and provides funding and incubation support through organisations like DST-TBI for their development and deployment, the question remains: where are these technologies actually being used? “It appears industrialists receive subsidies, while families of those killed in sewer accidents receive no or part compensation, adds Sukumar.

Paths to dignity: What will it take to end manual scavenging?

Despite laws and schemes, manual scavenging remains a grim reality for thousands in India. Based on insights from our study for WaterAid, here are some points that can dismantle this caste-based practice:

We must broaden the definition. The current legal framework under the PEMSR Act, 2013 needs urgent revision. It must recognise the caste-based, generational nature of this occupation and include all forms of human waste handling under its ambit. The identification process must also be made more inclusive by expanding definitions and providing clear guidelines for implementers.

Enforcement and oversight must improve. Effective implementation requires revamped institutional systems, proactive monitoring bodies, and a clear chain of accountability. Every state must set up a Safai Karamchari Commission as mandated, and authorities must be sensitised on the intersections of caste, gender, and poverty. Enforcement of the Act’s provisions must include penalties for non-compliance and incentives for officials who take proactive action. Implementation data—such as the amount spent under SRMS and outcomes achieved—should be made publicly available.

The data must be honest. Accurate, reliable tracking of manual scavengers, sewer deaths, and rehabilitation efforts is essential. Current enumeration methods—including those in past surveys like the SECC 2011—have excluded many. The government must consistently collect and publish robust data, and introduce a national indicator on manual scavenging under the Sustainable Development Goals (SDG) framework.

Time-bound national and state-level action plans are essential. Governments must develop clear targets and timelines for identifying and rehabilitating manual scavengers. These plans should be accompanied by awareness campaigns to acknowledge the continuing prevalence of the practice, creating an environment where identification and reporting are not stigmatised or suppressed.

Money must match the promises. Rehabilitation grants currently capped at Rs. 40,000 are far too low to support a sustainable transition into alternative livelihoods. The National Human Rights Commission has recommended increasing this to Rs. 1,00,000. Funds under the Self-Employment Scheme for Rehabilitation of Manual Scavengers (SRMS) must be allocated and utilised transparently, with loan provisions made accessible and community-friendly. Timely processing of applications, cash assistance, and access to capital subsidies and concessional loans are critical.

Protective equipment and technology must be normalised. No human should be compelled to enter a sewer or clean a toilet without adequate protection. Mechanisation of sanitation work must be a non-negotiable standard. Governments must prioritise investing in safe, sustainable technological alternatives and promote the routine use of personal protective equipment (PPE) for all sanitation-related tasks.

Improve access to schemes and education. Many manual scavengers remain unaware of government schemes and support structures, including scholarships for their children. Greater effort is needed to raise awareness within these communities, particularly among women, about their legal rights and entitlements. This must go hand in hand with ensuring documentation processes are simplified so that beneficiaries can access food rations, healthcare, education, and social security without bureaucratic barriers.

Civil society must act in unison. Organisations working in the WASH (Water, Sanitation and Hygiene) sector, trade unions, legal networks, and advocacy groups must coordinate efforts to amplify the voices of women manual scavengers. They must build a strong evidence base, support health and safety initiatives, and share successful models of rehabilitation. A united civil society is critical to ensuring sustained pressure on the government and dignified support for affected communities.