[When India instituted the world’s largest lockdown to combat the novel coronavirus in late March, it plunged millions into extreme hardship. It also inspired unlikely and extraordinary acts of generosity.]
By Niha Masih
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Migrant workers wait for their flight at the airport in Bangalore. A group of
lawyers has helped dozens of stranded workers in India fly home amid
economic distress. (Talha Salaria)
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NEW DELHI — Rajesh Rana and his three children were surviving on one meal a day when the call came.
At first, he thought there was a mistake. The 40-year-old carpenter in Mumbai had spent two months without work amid India’s stringent pandemic lockdown, unable to earn money or return to his village..
On the phone was a stranger offering to fly the whole family from India’s financial capital back to their home state more than 1,000 miles away — for free.
“My neighbors said it could be some fraud,” said Rana, by phone from his village. “It was too good to be true.”
When India instituted the world’s largest lockdown to combat the novel coronavirus in late March, it plunged millions into extreme hardship. It also inspired unlikely and extraordinary acts of generosity.
Individuals across the country have stepped up to tackle the gap between the government’s relief efforts and the vast need for help. Some have worked to feed people deprived of their incomes. Some have stepped in to deliver goods to those who cannot leave their homes. Others have banded together to help transport migrant workers who were stranded.
Such laborers were hit especially hard by the shutdown, which destroyed their livelihoods and forced thousands to make perilous journeys on foot to villages hundreds of miles away. The government was slow to provide assistance to workers who wanted to go home: A month after the lockdown began, as frustration grew, the government allowed buses to run and organized special trains for workers.
But dozens died in road accidents or on lengthy train journeys, often without adequate food or water. U.N. experts said on June 4 that they were “appalled” at the government’s disregard for its internal migrants and called the relief measures “insufficient.”
Rana and his family were among the lucky ones. On May 28, Rana, his wife and their three children dressed in their best clothes and arrived at Mumbai’s swanky international airport, which had reopened for limited domestic flights three days earlier. No one in the family had ever set foot inside an airport before.
There, along with dozens of other migrant workers, they boarded a privately funded evacuation flight to their state of Jharkhand. The flight that Rana boarded had been arranged by the alumni of a prestigious law school.
“All of us had been contributing to relief measures individually,” said Shyel Trehan, one of the organizers. “But we wanted to do more.”
Faced with the economic devastation caused by the lockdown, India is withdrawing many of its earlier restrictions on movement, transport and commerce even as cases rise. This past week, the country reported its highest one-day jump in new cases, and the total number of infections stands at more than 200,000.
[The largest lockdown in the world is ending. India is bracing for what comes next.]
As in the United States, the measures taken to combat the virus in India have had vastly different consequences for various sections of society. For those with jobs that can be done from home, the restrictions were trying but not devastating. But for the working poor, the lockdown landed “like a meteor,” wrote activist Harsh Mander, equating their dispossession to a “social crime.”
The situation galvanized people like Trehan to find ways to help the workers who had been “invisible” for many Indians. “This crisis has exposed that,” said the 42-year-old Delhi lawyer.
She and fellow members of her law school class communicated on a WhatsApp group. Someone suggested hiring buses to send laborers back home. But in working out the costs, they came to a surprising realization: The cost of chartering a plane for 180 people was nearly the same as sending that number of people in buses crisscrossing the country — about $15,000.
Within a day and a half, they had raised enough money through crowdfunding, and the flight left within the week.
Then the effort took on a life of its own as word spread throughout their networks. A corporate group came forward to sponsor a second flight, and a third flight was paid for by parents of students at a private school in Mumbai. A Delhi-based lawyer’s family offered to pay for another. The overwhelming response led the original group to set a target of 10 flights, after which they would reassess the need.
To identify those in dire need, they collaborated with Priya Sharma, a doctoral scholar from Mumbai who had been gathering information on affected workers during the lockdown. They prioritized families with young children or those staying in government shelters.
Other citizen-led initiatives have also received broad support. Over the past months, Akshay Kothawale, an auto-rickshaw driver in the city of Pune, used the $2,500 he had saved for his wedding to distribute food packets to 300 people in need daily.
His wedding, scheduled for May 25, had to be postponed because of the lockdown. “Since I can’t organize a function, I thought this was the best way to celebrate,” he said. When news of his gesture was reported in the media, people from across the country sent him $8,000 for his wedding.
“This has been a time of utter despair for so many people,” said 29-year-old Sharma. “But there are also a lot of people who want to help.”
The 20-member volunteer team collects workers’ details and consent, handles the travel paperwork, arranges for transport to the airport and collaborates with state governments that provide transportation to villages when the families land. The task is often complicated by the fact that most of the workers have been first-time fliers.
“It’s been a big emotional roller coaster,” said Trehan. “But it’s got people thinking we don’t need to feel powerless when you see inequality. It’s doing your little part.”
For those who have benefited from the generosity of strangers, the help has been a godsend.
Rajendra Mandal, a 47-year-old auto-rickshaw driver living in Mumbai with his two children, ran out of money a few weeks into the lockdown. Left with no choice, he took to sneaking out his vehicle on some days to earn money, in violation of the lockdown.
“I have never been happier in my life,” said Mandal of his journey. “I was able to get home during a pandemic.” During the flight, his sons marveled at the clouds. His 9-year-old son promised to study well and take Mandal for a helicopter ride when he grows up.
For Ishrafil Ansari, a 19-year-old construction worker, the flight home helped lighten the responsibility of supporting his sister and her two young children. In the village, there are parents and family to share the load.
The Rana family was thankful to be able reach their village, where they can get two meals a day. “We consider ourselves very lucky,” said Rana. “For us, these people are as good as God.”
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