In a village in the periphery of Bhopal, the capital of Madhya Pradesh, where brick kiln workers toil hard, difficult circumstances force their children to forego education, ending in a cycle of hardships across generations
In a striking resonance with Pink Floyd’s iconic song Another brick in the wall, the village of Barkhedi Abdulla, situated a mere 18 km from the bustling city of Bhopal, tells a comparable story of labour and endurance.
The song, an anthem of protest against rigid and oppressive systems, finds a parallel in this village where brick-making is not just a profession but a metaphor for the struggles against the harsh realities of life.
The brick-making process commences with the arduous task of gathering soil. With meticulous care, the workers collect the soil, mindful of its texture and quality, ensuring that it meets the standards required for brick production.
The soil is then mixed with water to create a malleable blend. This mixture is left to dry, a process that spans a minimum of 24 hours and may extend up to four days, depending on environmental conditions and the desired quality of the bricks.
After drying, the mixture is carefully portioned according to the number of bricks produced daily. At this juncture, hay is introduced into the mixture, strengthening the bond between the soil and water. The workers use their legs to mix the ingredients with rhythmic precision, ensuring thorough integration and cohesion. Under the scorching sun, they shape the wet clay into rectangular bricks, a symphony of determination amidst the quiet village landscape.
Once moulded, the bricks are left to dry in the sunlight, and arranged in rows across the open ground. The workers watch over them, knowing that each brick represents their sweat and toil. As dusk descends, the bricks are carefully stacked in the kiln, where they undergo the fiery transformation that will harden them into durable building blocks.
Most workers are migrant labourers, working tirelessly for a meagre pay – 60 to 80 paise per brick. They toil for eight months before returning to their villages. They also have to save to survive the rainy season, which lasts for almost four months.
Their children cannot attend the local anganwadi because they lack Aadhaar cards; and often the kilns are further from the anganwadi, without transportation service. With both parents working in the kilns, the kids don’t go to school.
The workers live in thatched huts that are characterised by their small size, with ceilings typically 4 to 4.5 feet from the ground. This limited vertical space can lead to discomfort and exert pressure on their backs. Living in such cramped conditions requires constant adjustment and can adversely affect the workers’ overall well-being.
Some kiln owners provide advance payments to support their workers during the rainy season when construction work typically halts and daily wage work becomes scarce. This financial aid is intended to help the workers sustain themselves and their families during the lean months. However, this assistance comes with a catch: high interest rates. So when the workers return, they find themselves in a cycle of debt, obligated to repay the borrowed amount plus interest.
This forces them to continue working at the same kiln for an extended period, much longer than they might have initially planned, as they struggle to free themselves from the financial burden imposed by the loan. While offering immediate relief, this practice perpetuates a cycle of dependency and limits the workers’ mobility and freedom to seek better opportunities elsewhere.
During summer, Bhopal experiences intense heat waves, with temperatures soaring up to 45°C, making outdoor activities nearly unbearable. When people avoid venturing outside during peak heat, brick kiln workers continue their laborious tasks under the relentless sun.
Particularly challenging is the job of those responsible for placing bricks in the clamps – the raw brick stack – as they must work close to the heat emanating from the kilns in addition to the sun’s heat. This underscores the demanding environment the brick kiln workers operate in and endure, to earn their livelihood.
In Barkhedi Abdulla village, I found a scene that left a lasting impression. Kallu Khan, a 70-year-old man dressed in a simple vest and a dhoti – the traditional attire of rural India – diligently working with determination. The village, painted in shades of golden sunlight, was his home, where he kept working hard under the blazing sun. His vest – faded from years of wear – and his dhoti, wrapped around his waist, told his life story. They were symbols of his connection to the land and the generations before him.
Approaching Khan and his wife, I noticed their curious looks, as if I were a visitor from afar. His wife’s smile, tinged with surprise, reflected the modesty of their rural lifestyle. I explained my interest in Khan’s story for a report on brick kiln workers, and he welcomed my inquiry with a nod, inviting me to learn more. His story unfolded, revealing a life shaped by labour since childhood.
Khan started young, right after class III. Despite his desire to study, financial constraints held him back, limiting his dreams and that of his children. The brick kilns were the primary source of employment, leaving him little choice but to join the laborious trade that sustained the community. The lack of nearby schools forced his son and daughter to end their studies prematurely.
As he worked while narrating his story, his 25-year-old son joined him in mixing the soil. With pride, Khan said that he arranged his daughter’s marriage after years of diligent saving. Now he’s saving for his son’s wedding. Pointing to his son, he said, “He wouldn’t have to do this if he’d studied.” He felt that the current generation might struggle with physical labour, yet he found contentment in his simple way of life.
Reflecting on Kallu Khan’s story, I realised the stark contrast between urban concerns and our tendency to worry about trivial matters and the simple dignity of rural life. In their resilience, I found a richness of spirit that transcended material wealth – a testament to human strength in the face of challenges.
In Kallu Khan’s unwavering determination, I witnessed the power of resilience, reminding us to cherish life’s simplest joys amidst adversity. His story serves as a poignant reminder of the enduring impact of hard work and love, urging us to embrace the beauty of rural existence.
India’s brick kiln industry, a significant contributor to construction and manufacturing, faces challenges in labour conditions and environmental impact, despite regulatory efforts.
The brick kiln workers, bound by generations of tradition, lack freedom and opportunities. Their families endure hardships, tied to the kilns out of necessity. Deprived of schooling, basic needs and alternatives, children join the same workforce. Despite laws prohibiting child labour, children of Barkhedi work in kilns, facing health risks documented in research.
With more brick factories than China, India lags in production due to outdated methods. Government regulations are needed so that the kilns are efficient. Kallu Khan’s emphasis on education underscores the importance of breaking cycles of labour for future generations.
Barkhedi Abdulla’s tale calls for change and empowerment.
Just as Pink Floyd’s anthem Another brick in the wall challenges oppressive systems, this story also reminds us that every worker who makes these bricks deserves dignity and opportunity beyond the walls that confine them.
The lead image shows a brick kiln worker preparing clay that would be moulded into bricks (Photo by Prateek Anand)
Prateek Anand is pursuing an MBA in rural management at Xavier Institute of Management, Bhubaneswar. With a profound commitment to the development sector, he is inclined to improve the lives of marginalised communities.
