“The word ‘Rohingya’ is forbidden. We only use it among ourselves in the hut. It is our secret identity. Dad Insists that we use the term ‘Muslim’ when we introduce ourselves. If we say that we are Rohingya, we would be singing the family’s death warrant, he says. So we never do.
—Habiburahman, First, They Erased Our Names: A Rohingya Speaks (2019)
In the vast tapestry of our world, the Rohingya people, persecuted and stateless, endure a relentless cosmic ballet of survival. The Rohingya refugee crisis is one of the largest humanitarian crises. They’ve faced persecution and discrimination and fled to countries like Bangladesh, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, Malaysia, India, Thailand, and Indonesia. India currently hosts 18,914 Rohingya, with 7% in Delhi. They endure crackdowns, arbitrary detention, arrests, forced deportation, and hate campaigns in India that label them as illegal immigrants, neglecting their refugee status.
Their desperate struggle in camps like Shram Vihar in New Delhi, living without hope and prepared for the worst, is a tragic chapter in human history we must never witness again.
Toilet, a basic human right
Upholding the basic human rights and dignity of all individuals, regardless of their refugee status, is a fundamental principle of international law and humanitarianism. The absence of toilets in refugee camps is a humanitarian crisis, emphasising the need for international cooperation and humanitarian aid for vulnerable populations.
Samar, (name changed) a 26-year-old man, speaks with profound concern. Open defecation is a forced reality for him, with no access to toilets. “It never comes by choice,” he laments.
Afad, a 60-year-old woman, says, “Where do we go to excrete? A sewer is the best place for us. I carry a bottle with me.” The reality is grim and unacceptable. Open defecation is not a choice; it is a last resort born out of sheer desperation. For countless women and children like those Samar strives to protect, it’s a daily nightmare—a humiliating and undignified act that exposes them to disease, danger, and degradation.
For 30-year-old Nabeen, a woman, it poses grave safety risks. Alone with her five children after her husband’s arrest, she tearfully shares her fear of insects and snakes when she ventures into the bushes to defecate. “I use clothes for my children. They excrete on it. Later, I throw it out,” she says. Farhan reflects on the unfortunate normalization of open defecation due to the lack or absence of any public/community toilet facilities in camps. His concern underscores the pressing need for gender-inclusive sanitation infrastructure to ensure the dignity and safety of all residents, both women and men, as open defecation robs them of their basic rights and personal dignity.
Mapping Mud Pit Latrines/Toilets
Mud pit latrines consist of a dug-out pit in the ground, typically lined with mud or other locally available materials. Users defecate directly into the pit, and over time, the waste decomposes or needs manual removal and disposal. These latrines lack modern plumbing or sewage systems and are a basic means of addressing sanitation needs in resource-constrained environments.
“We use one pit latrine for about 1 to 1.5 years. After that, we dig another pit nearby and cover the previous one,” Farhan adds. While these pit latrines are cost-effective, they lack durability, making them a less-than-ideal choice for their needs.
In the pursuit of a better life, financial challenges are substantial, especially for those who’ve experienced displacement or are refugees, making earning a complex task. Basic necessities like shelter, food, and clean water often take precedence, potentially sacrificing other vital services like sanitation, such as toilets.
Farhan shares the burden of his head injury, a consequence of a past accident in 2018, whose case is still pending in Saket Court. Numerous plates embedded in his skull have led to frequent bouts of unconsciousness while working. He laments, “How I am surviving while having children and family, I can’t even tell you.” This accident left him with no choice and made his life unbearable. The lack of justice and the economic constraints stemming from his accident have made even these fundamental needs a distant dream for him and his family.
“Rent, water bills, and electricity are hefty expenses. We give 1000 to 1500 for rent and have to purchase water. How can we even think about allocating resources for toilets or latrines?” he questions.
The landowners wield tremendous power over the lives of those living in the juggis. Moreover, their reluctance to permit the construction of pit latrines for the sake of sanitary facilities is a stark manifestation of the inequality and lack of empathy that perpetuates the cycle of poverty and insecurity. Samar, in a hushed tone, confides how he secretly dug a latrine pit near his juggi. It exemplifies the extreme measures individuals are forced to take when denied basic amenities. Showing community concerns, Samar emphasizes that the scarcity of resources is compounded by the absence of available land to construct toilets or even to use them.
A Health Crisis
Within the confines of these densely populated refugee camps, the absence of adequate toilets and pit latrine facilities presents a looming health crisis. Without proper sanitation facilities, human waste is disposed of in an unsanitary manner, often ending up in open areas or shallow pits. This can contaminate nearby water sources, such as rivers, streams, and groundwater, which are often used for drinking and cooking. Conditions that normally would be relatively easy to treat, acute respiratory infection, diarrhoea, malaria, measles, and malnutrition, are the five major causes of death among refugee communities.
“Dry cough, fever is common here, and children are very prone to it,” laments one resident. Using a sewer as the best option for defecation raises serious health concerns, as sewage is not a safe or sanitary solution. Unfortunately, disease, malnutrition, and a breakdown in health services affect women more severely than men.
Additionally, the accumulation of waste in open areas can attract rodents and other pests, increasing the risk of disease transmission. The daily experience of using these subpar facilities can be a source of continuous distress, further exacerbating the overall psychological burden. It is within this crucible of suffering that the haunting echoes of shell shock, also known as combat stress reaction or post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), emerge as a deeply troubling health concern. Women, children, the elderly, and individuals with disabilities are often more vulnerable to health risks. It further increases health inequities in the community. Also, the contamination of soil and water can harm local ecosystems and may lead to long-term environmental degradation.
Interventions
The international protection system was established to address the challenges of refugees. UNHCR has increasingly engaged with displaced individuals facing threats. Refugees are entitled to certain rights, including non-refoulement, which prevents their forced return to a perilous situation in their home country. In India’s Shram Vihar, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) collaborates with an organisation named BOSCO as part of the global Don Bosco network. Therefore, the community relies solely on UNHCR, certain NGOs, and individuals for support.
During the pandemic, NGO aid ceased, with only a handful of people providing them with rations. “Once a year, UNHCR provides pads, soaps, underwear, etc., for sanitation and hygiene,” says Fahad. It must be recognised that UNHCR has been limited to some extent by the refugee protection standards.
After the lockdown, an NGO offered plastic sheets and materials to construct toilets. However, these sheets had already been claimed by people residing on the other side of the camp, rendering them inaccessible to those in need. Only those living in close proximity to the toilets could benefit from them. The shortage of resources and inadequate assistance, compounded by a lack of proper distribution, has left the community feeling drained, even when NGOs make occasional visits. Fahad’s voice trembles with frustration as he declares, “Nobody is helping us.“
Addressing the Rohingya refugee crisis and their dire lack of access to sanitation requires a multifaceted approach. It’s my hope that these testimonies can be the catalyst for action.
All photos by the author.
This story has been written as part of the My City Writers’ Training Program.