Monday, July 25, 2011

Wounded Mumbai


Economic & Political Weekly, July 23, 2011

A city bleeds. Three bombs rip apart some of its many congested localities. Twenty people die, 131 are injured. And the residents of that city collectively ask: Why? Why here? Why now? Why us?

The 13 July serial blasts in Mumbai’s Zaveri Bazaar, Opera House and Dadar were not the first. The city has a list of significant “terror” dates: 1993, 2002, 2003, 2006, 2008 and now 2011. The 13 July blasts were not as devastating as the previous ones. Many more were killed in the serial blasts that ripped through the city’s “lifeline”, its commuter trains, on 11 July 2006 and even more on 12 March 1993. Yet each time terror strikes Mumbai, people still ask the same question. Why?

The answer to that question is neither simple nor obvious. It has been hovering in the air for decades. It is rooted in the city’s history, its trajectory of maldevelopment and its politics. Yet, the relevant question
is not “why” but “what”, what terms like “terror” and “security” actually mean for Mumbai’s residents.

The first terror strike took place on 12 March 1993 when 13 huge  RDX-laden explosions shook the city from its southern tip in Nariman Point to the Santa Cruz airport in the north. Hundreds were injured, 257 people died.

On 13 March, the city got back to work – much as it did on 14 July 2011. But something changed then. And Mumbai has never been the same again. The 1993 serial bombings sent out a clear message. They came within weeks of the end of the worst communal riots Mumbai had ever seen, the post Babri masjid conflagration that stretched from the night of 6 December 1992 right up to the end of January 1993. The majority of those killed were Muslims. The serial blasts sent out a message – that the victims of the targeted killing would not sit back and accept their fate.

(To read the rest of the article, click on the link above)

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Insurmountable hurdle

The Hindu, Sunday Magazine, July 23, 2011


  
Not wanted Bad news yet again from the Census 2011. Photo: K. Murali Kumar
The HinduNot wanted Bad news yet again from the Census 2011. Photo: K. Murali Kumar
As the declining sex ratio from Census 2011 shows, merely having laws against sex selective abortion is not enough. Fighting entrenched social attitudes is a much tougher call…
Three cheers for Japanese women. Their soccer team beat the powerful U.S. team and won the FIFA Women's World Cup. Indeed, in a week with much gloom, this was the one cheerful piece of news. Even more to celebrate was the fact that women's sports is finally making headlines, and is not relegated to a single column at the bottom of the page.
But the bad news from Census 2011 about women is relentless. Once again, as provisional data is released on the 2011 Census, and we know now, for instance, that India is becoming increasingly urban, we are also getting confirmation that India is increasingly male. We were warned in 2001 that the situation was alarming; in 2011 that adjective appears an understatement.
Persistent problem
India's declining sex ratio is a subject one has to revisit repeatedly. No matter how often you think about it, or write about, it is difficult to come up with a straightforward or simple solution to the situation we face in India: Where girls are simply not wanted. They can excel in sport, in studies, in jobs, as politicians, as bureaucrats, as writers, as engineers. But none of that changes the attitude of the couple on the verge of parenthood — who long for a boy and grieve if a girl is born.
Now, in addition to the usual breast-beating about this appalling situation, we have people suggesting that access to abortion should be restricted. In Maharashtra, where the 0-6 years sex ratio has seen a precipitous decline, suggestions are flying around of restricting access in different ways. For instance, the Nagpur Municipal Corporation has made it compulsory for all radiologists and gynaecologists to post details of their work online. That might prove a salutary step. But in addition, they must get clearance from the municipality before they perform an abortion. How adding a layer of bureaucracy to the process will check the misuse of abortion facilities for sex-selective abortions beats comprehension.
India's abortion laws are considered to be progressive because they recognise the right of women to have access to safe abortion. The importance of safe abortion cannot be emphasised enough. India has the highest number of unsafe abortions in the world and an estimated 56 per cent or more than half the recorded abortions that take place, are under unsafe conditions. As a result, 15 to 20 per cent of maternal deaths are due to unsafe abortions. India's maternal mortality rate is one of the highest in the world. So women who need to undergo an abortion for a variety of reasons including rape, or contraceptive failure when they are not ready for another child, should have legal, safe and clean facilities for the procedure.
Unfortunately, even what exists by way of public facilities is grossly inadequate. According to studies on abortion in India, only 25 per cent of abortion facilities are in the government sector. Studies have also revealed that as little as six per cent of all primary health centres have abortion facilities. This means women living in rural areas have no option but to turn to private practitioners, of whom many resort to unsafe procedures.
In cities, health facilities are better. But the people who misuse legalised abortion for sex selection rarely use government facilities. They can afford the private practitioners who ask no questions and charge a hefty fee.
Not a solution
So restricting abortion facilities will affect poor women, already burdened with inadequate health facilities; while those with money, who also seem to have decided they do not want girls, will continue as before.
The dilemma is a real one. Since 2001, when the first shock of the extent of the decline in the sex ratio hit home, there have been many discussions about the problem. The Pre-Conception and Pre-Natal Diagnostic Techniques (Prohibition of Sex Selection) Act, 2003 has been tightened. Despite that, there have only been a small number of convictions; out of 800 cases in 17 states, only 55 convictions. Clearly the law is not being implemented the way it should be.
But even if it were strictly enforced, would there be a difference? Indians are notoriously proficient in bypassing even the best-made laws. If they want to do something, they find a way of doing it.
To give you a simple example of how difficult it is to get people to obey a law. In most states, it is compulsory to wear helmets if you drive a motorbike or scooter. The law has been made for the safety of those who ride these machines, people who should know that the law is in their best interests. Yet, in city after city, you will see people risking their lives and finding ways to evade being caught rather than wearing helmets, or quickly putting them on just before they see a policeman. In fact, there is an advertisement on television these days showing a young man finding an ingenious way to side-step the rule when he sees a cop on the horizon; he puts on a hollowed-out watermelon on his head in place of his non-existent helmet. And the ad is supposed to be light-hearted and funny.
Perhaps this example is not a direct parallel to the ways in which the PC&PNDT Act has failed to make a difference. But it illustrates an approach towards law that makes implementation of any law an even greater challenge in India. When that law meets entrenched social attitudes, the hurdle appears almost insurmountable.
So the dilemma before us is how we get people to actually not resort to sex selection and sex selective abortions. One way is to keep the issue alive in the media, to provoke debates on this in colleges, and to constantly remind people that a country progresses if all its people are secure, if all feel they have rights, and not if one half of the population is made to feel so unwelcome that you ensure that they are never born.
(To read the original, click on the link above)

Friday, July 15, 2011

No lessons learned


When television voyeurs enter hospitals, apart from the assault on the privacy of injured people, people stomping around emergency wards obstructs the work of doctors and nurses. As responsible individuals, surely it is not too much to expect from mediapersons that they recognize this. Yet, it is amazing how the feeding frenzy after a disaster knocks out all common sense, says KALPANA SHARMA
 
Posted/Updated Friday, July 15 11:10:14, 2011

Second Take
Kalpana Sharma
  
The government has learned some lessons from its handling of previous bomb blasts. Or so we were repeatedly told by television news channels during their blanket coverage of the three serial bomb blasts that hit south and central Mumbai on July 13, killing 18 people and injuring 131. But the question that needs to be asked after watching the news coverage is: have our TV news channels learned any lessons from coverage of previous blasts? Apparently not.
 
Within minutes of the serial blasts, the Home Ministry in Delhi apparently confirmed that it was a ‘terror attack’. This led to an almost instant frenzy of speculation: what kind of bomb, whose signature did it have and who was responsible. A little over an hour after the first reports appeared on the channels, Headlines Today was already claiming that the Indian Mujahideen could be responsible for it. Other channels were only a little more circumspect. While they aired statements by Mumbai Police Commissioner Arup Patnaik saying repeatedly that it was too early to say who was responsible and that he would not speculate, their anchors continued to ask leading questions and to do precisely that: speculate.
 
And even before the first bits of forensic evidence that would indicate the nature of the bombs planted in the three locations had been collected, the guesswork about the bombs had begun on the news channels. Was it a crude bomb? Was RDX used? Was it an IED? 
 
This clearly was not enough to fill the time. So TV crews were dispatched to the hospitals where the injured had been taken. After previous such incidents, there had been considerable discussion within the media about the use of gory pictures depicting the injured, or dead, individuals. This time again, the camera’s lens sought, and telecast, the most intrusive shots of people who were in no condition to object.
 
Amongst the English news channels that I watched, Headlines Today was the worst. It telecast scenes from the hospitals where people were being taken for treatment. No effort was made to mask the individual’s face or his naked body as doctors and nurses were shown treating the person. How can hospitals allow such intrusion and how can television channels justify such an invasion of the privacy of an injured person? Was this done because these were nameless, ordinary citizens and not the rich and the famous? Would anyone have dared to do the same if a well-known person had been injured?
 
After the August 2003 twin blasts at the Gateway of India and Zaveri Bazar, the Dean of J.J. Hospital, where many of the wounded had been taken, had put a blanket ban on all television channels entering the wards. Only after some persuasion did he allow some of us print journalists to go in, but without photographers. This time, it was obvious that the hospital authorities did not take quick enough action to stop television voyeurs from entering the hospital. 
 
Apart from the atrocious and unacceptable assault on the privacy of injured people, the fact of so many people stomping around emergency wards obstructs the work of doctors and nurses. As responsible individuals, surely this is not too much to expect from the men and women of the media. Yet, it is amazing how the feeding frenzy after a disaster knocks out all common sense.
 
No, the news media never seems to learn. Well-known documentary filmmaker Rakesh Sharma had this to say during a discussion on Facebook following these blasts: “On 7/7 I was out filming. Post 26/11, I was out filming again from the 29th onwards. It was horrifying to see TV crews shooting on the streets of my city both during and after -- the sheer theatrics, the uncouth, insensitive questions, shoving people, trying to get that dramatic frame or sound bite. I wasn’t the only one repulsed. So widespread was the revulsion that four days later, many victims or their families just refused to speak to any TV crews! In fact, for the first time in my work life, I was welcomed into homes and hospital wards only because I said -- we're not TV; we are documentary film-makers! And really for the first time, I didn’t need to explain what a documentary is and no one asked which channel will it be shown on...”
 
On the morning after, once again the government came in for some praise, at least for its media management. Apart from the regular briefings by Home Minister P. Chidambaram on the previous night, there was a televised press conference addressed by him and the Maharashtra Chief Minister Prithviraj Chauhan the next morning. Unlike previous occasions, the government seemed to have understood the importance of being accessible to the media. Yet, despite Chidambaram pleading with the media not to speculate and to give investigating agencies time to arrive at some conclusions about who was responsible for the attacks, several channels had begun their own scenario building in real earnest.
 
Once again, Headlines Today trounced the others. It had named Pakistan the night before and continued to do so the next day. It invited two former RAW officials to give their views, Jaydev Ranade and Col. R.S.N Singh. Both spoke of the need for “pre-emptive intelligence” but Singh went further when he said India needed to “strike the heart that breeds such terrorists”. Not hard to guess which country he had in mind as he continued about the “proxy war”. Are these television guests handpicked to say what the channel wants its viewers to hear?
 
What stood out as different about the coverage of these blasts – as compared to the serial blasts on Mumbai’s suburban trains in July 2006 – was the role of ordinary citizens in providing visuals to the channels. Several channels were able to telecast images of the bombs going off thanks to cell phone users capturing the moment on their phones. Yet the dangers of using such footage without whetting were evident when shots of the body of a woman appeared in the initial telecasts. Fortunately, good sense prevailed and that image was smudged in subsequent telecasts.
 
Twitter and other social networking mediums also apparently played a role in conveying information, channeling offers for help and appealing to people to stay calm. This too is a new development as of the last couple of years. The Internet did help Mumbai’s beleaguered citizens during the downpour and floods of July 2005 but cell phone images and Twitter feeds are an advance on that.

Finally, this might sound like a pet peeve, but I still cannot understand why Delhi-based anchors of television news channels cannot get the pronunciation of names of places right. Zaveri bazaar has been distorted to ‘Zaaaveri’ bazaar, and that too after their own correspondents on the spot are saying it as it should be said: ‘Zaveri’ with a soft ‘a’.
 

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Unjust trials

The Hindu, Sunday Magazine, July 10, 2011

Structural inequalities... Photo: AFP

                                                        Structural inequalities... Photo: AFP


The Strauss-Kahn case illustrates once again the serious obstacles that women around the world face in getting justice.
For the first time, a woman now heads the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and also for the first time, Thailand has a woman Prime Minister. Women are making news all the time — either because they have done something no other woman has done before or because they are caught in the net of unfriendly judicial systems like millions of their counterparts around the world. Women like the hotel maid in New York who accused the powerful former IMF head Dominique Strauss-Kahn of sexual assault.
This high profile case is now close to collapse. As in so many lesser-known cases around the world, the woman's credibility is being questioned rather than the man's character. Instead of the evidence being used to indict the man, the woman's past record of inconsistency is being used to prove her a liar. And because she is supposed to have lied in the past, there is a presumption that she might be doing so again. Yet, although the man has been accused of similar behaviour in the past, it is not being presumed that he could have behaved the same way again. Instead, he is being given the benefit of the doubt. Why? Because he is powerful and the woman is not.
Much will be written about this case in the weeks and months to come but what it draws attention to is the justice system in all our countries and how it works, or rather does not work, for women. It is significant that in its very first report on “Progress of the World's Women 2011-12” brought out by the newly established UN Women, the theme is, “In pursuit of justice”.
For better justice
The report looks at how justice systems can be made to work for women and sets out examples and suggestions. From the data it puts forth, it is evident that in many countries there are serious obstacles in the way of women getting justice.
Where laws have been changed — such as the introduction of a particular law on domestic violence — a difference has been noted. More cases are reported as women understand they need not be silent and bear abuse. Yet, attitudes do not change overnight when such laws are introduced. For instance, according to the report, in 17 out of 41 countries surveyed, a quarter or more of the respondents thought it was perfectly alright for a man to beat his wife. So between this attitude, and a law against domestic violence, lies the challenge of implementation. And it is here that an indifferent judicial system often fails women.
“All over the world,” notes the report, “the justice chain is characterised by high levels of attrition, whereby most cases drop out of the justice system before they reach court and very few result in a conviction. Attrition is a particular problem in rape cases.” Even in European countries, where you would imagine that this would not be the case, the picture is not that different. “A 2009 study of European countries found that, on average, 14 per cent of reported rapes ended in a conviction, with rates falling as low as five per cent.”
Accessing the justice system is not a simple matter. It starts with reporting a case to the police but then is followed by investigation, legal help, facing the court, and the wait for justice. Most women do not have either the resilience or the support system to fight till the end. The majority gives up at the very first stage, which is at the point of reporting.
In many countries, especially developing countries, even if laws have been enacted that should aid women, the police are not trained to be sensitive to women, or in some places simply do not have the resources. In Uganda, for instance, if a woman goes to the police and reports domestic violence, she is asked to pay for the transport to arrest the suspect! In Cambodia, rape victims are asked to pay for the forensic tests, an amount that is equivalent to what they would earn in two weeks.
Leading the way
Several countries have pioneered solutions to this by providing integrated services. South Africa has a pioneered the Thuthuzela or “comfort” centres located in public hospitals. Here a survivor of sexual assault is given medical help and legal advice and has social workers, doctors and police on call for 24 hours. This has made a marked difference to rates of reporting and conviction. From an average of two years for a trial, the average is now down to seven and a half months and the conviction rate has gone up to 89 per cent.
The UN report makes a strong case for employing more women in the justice system so that the entire process is more sensitive to women's needs. One example of the positive impact of this is the 130-strong Indian women's police contingent in post-conflict Liberia. Reporting of gender-based violence increased because of the presence of these women, states the report.
Yet, worldwide, women make up not more than 13 per cent of the police force and only 27 per cent of judges around the world are women. The report argues that even if gender-sensitive training were imparted to everyone in the system, the presence of more women would make a material difference to the lives of the women seeking justice.
The complex justice systems in all our countries cannot be reduced to a few simple solutions. There are several simultaneous areas that need to be tackled. But sometimes the simplest solutions can make a maximum difference. The South African example, of one-stop shops to deal with sexual violence, is one such step that has already shown results. It does not require the creation of additional institutions. It means using those that already exist, such as public hospitals, and evolving systems that respond to women's needs instead of exacerbating their burdens.
Women's progress can be measured in many ways. The media usually cites the ‘success' stories — of the women who have ‘ made it' to the top in different fields. These are indicators no doubt. But the real measure of women's progress lies in the ability of our societies to deliver justice. And on this measure most countries, rich and poor, fall short.
(To read the original, click on the link above)

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Eliminating the poor

The Hindu, Sunday Magazine, June 26, 2011


THE OTHER HALF

KALPANA SHARMA
The Emergency, declared 36 years ago this day, impacted the poor in more sinister ways than any other section of society…
Photo: C.V. Subrahmanyam 

Denied choice?

June 26. Just another day for most people. But for those who lived through the 1970s in India, June 26, 1975, was the day the Emergency was declared. The rights we take so much for granted — freedom of the press, freedom to publicly articulate our opposition to the government, freedom to hold rallies and dharnas and fasts — were suspended. Till today, that period of 20 months remains a blot on India's democratic record.

The impact of this suspension of freedoms differed according to your class and status in life. For the people at the top, barring those in the political opposition, it made little difference. If anything, it increased their power to act with impunity. Much of the middle class approved. Trains ran on time, workers were not allowed to strike, the streets seemed to be cleaner etc. If all newspapers sounded suspiciously similar due to censorship, they did not notice or care. But, for the poor, not only was their voicelessness accentuated but also the history of the atrocities perpetuated on them in the name of ‘national interest' could not be recorded or reported.

Echoes from the past

Some of this came to mind when I read a story on the BBC website titled, “Sterilisation: North Carolina grapples with legacy”. It is hard to believe today but, right up to 1979, a policy was in place in states like North Carolina in the U.S. that justified forcible sterilisation. Beginning in 1907 in the state of Indiana, and thereafter adopted by 31 other states, an estimated 60,000 people were sterilised, most of them against their will. It was population control of another kind, specifically aimed to ensure that the poor and mentally ill did not reproduce.

According to the BBC report, the sterilisation programme was “part of a broad effort to cleanse the country's population of characteristics and social groups deemed unwanted”. Those who had to undergo sterilisation included women who were considered sexual deviants, homosexual men, the mentally ill, poor people, African Americans, Hispanics and juvenile delinquents as well as criminals.

This horrendous policy has once again become a talking point with the recent decision of the state of North Carolina to set up a special task force to trace the victims of this programme. They estimate that around 2,900 victims might still be alive. The state plans to offer all these people monetary compensation.

Certainly, no one in the U.S. today would contemplate such a policy or justify it. Yet in 1927, the U.S. Supreme Court actually upheld the law in a case involving the sterilisation of a woman considered “feeble-minded”. Judge Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., who was part of that decision, wrote, “It is better for all the world if, instead of waiting to execute degenerate offspring for crime or let them starve for their imbecility, society can prevent those who are manifestly unfit from continuing their kind. The principle that sustains compulsory vaccination is broad enough to cover cutting the Fallopian tubes” (Buck v. Bell).

India's forced sterilisation policy during the Emergency might not have been specifically targeted as was the policy in the U.S. but it could be seen as a way of dealing with poverty by restricting the birth of more poor people. It led to thousands of poor women and men being forcibly sterilised in the name of population control.

Little of what happened then was recorded as the press was fettered. But in later years, some stories were heard and retold. One of these records is the striking film “Something like a war” made by Deepa Dhanraj. The film reminds us of the mass sterilisation campaigns of the Emergency. But even more disturbing are scenes that suggest that the policies continued even after the Emergency had been withdrawn. One of the unforgettable scenes in the film shows poor women being lined up like cattle, with numbers stuck on their foreheads, as they wait their turn to have a tubectomy. The question of informed consent did not even arise.

The forcible sterilisation campaign was based on the premise that these women had no control over their own lives. Thus it was better that the State intervene and decide how many children they should have and permanently eliminate the possibility of their having more than the required number. Needless to say, no thought was given to any medical complications arising out of this assembly line approach to sterilisation. In a country where basic health services remain out of reach for a large majority of the poor, such callousness resulted in women dying of complications that remained unattended. But no one cared. One more poor person had disappeared, and with her the possibility of additional hungry mouths that would have to be fed.

Impossible here

While North Carolina is trying to trace the victims of what is now accepted as an unjust policy, it would be inconceivable that something like that could happen in India. To begin with, the numbers are mind-boggling. And in any case, those who formulated the policy never accepted that it violated women's rights.

These days, ‘reproductive health and rights' is the official approach and policy. Yet, even today, we hear of poor women being talked into giving their consent to be sterilised after they have had two children. Some of them might well want this, as they do not have the power within their marriages to insist on the use of contraceptives. Yet just because these women are illiterate does not mean they do not have brains, that they cannot understand what is being done to them. Surely, they too have the right to know, to understand, and then to decide. It is the assumption that someone else — the government official, the medical professional, the middle class person — knows best what is good for ‘them', the poor, that needs to be eliminated.

The Emergency was mentioned more than once in recent weeks when the Delhi police cracked down on Baba Ramdev's followers at the Ramlila grounds. But the real horrors of that period have still to be recorded and told. And on top of that list must stand the cruel and inhuman policy of mass sterilisation.

(To read the original, click on the link above)

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Too bitter a pill to swallow

The Hindu, Sunday Magazine, June 12, 2011

THE OTHER HALF



Falling ill is precarious business anywhere in the world. But in India, if you are poor, or live in a village, overcoming even routine illness can sometimes become an insurmountable hurdle. First, there are few health facilities within reach. Those that exist are ill equipped. Doctors don't come. Medicines are not available. Even if you somehow make it to the nearest district hospital, there is no guarantee that you will be treated. And if you seek private care, something 80 per cent of Indians are forced to do, you will end up permanently in debt. Most Indians have no health insurance.

Better than nothing

In such a situation, if someone approaches you and says they will actually pay you if you agree to take a new treatment for an illness that you have, most poor people would agree. What harm can it do? Often doctors, in whom the majority of patients put their complete trust, endorse the trial.

But harm there can be, and is possible from participating in what are ‘clinical trials' where new drugs are tested for their efficacy on humans. And despite regulations, codes of ethics and monitoring, every now and then we hear of people who die during these trials.

Last year, an intervention by a women's health rights group, SAMA, exposed the manner in which a study, where tribal girls between the ages of 10-14 years in Andhra Pradesh and Gujarat were given the Human Papilloma Virus (HPV) vaccine that prevents cervical cancer, went horribly wrong. Seven girls who received the vaccine died. Their parents believed the reason was adverse effects of the vaccine (see The Hindu, Sunday Magazine, April 18, 2010). The SAMA report prompted the Central government to set up an inquiry committee to look into the study and in the meantime asked that it be suspended.

The report of the government committee appointed on the HPV vaccine study was released in February this year but became public only a few weeks ago. Although it concludes that the seven deaths were “most probably unrelated to the vaccine”, it also adds that “the cause of death in all the cases cannot be established with certainty.” And as for violation of ethical norms, it observes “several minor deficiencies in the planning and conduct of the study”.

However, it is these so-called “minor deficiencies” that can sometimes make the difference between life and death for people who are already vulnerable. In the case of these tribal girls in Khammam district in Andhra Pradesh and Vadodra district in Gujarat, the deficiencies included the absence of “informed consent” (the consent forms were signed by hostel wardens instead of the parents of the girls being informed and their consent sought). Furthermore, a proper procedure to monitor the health of these girls for adverse effects was not in place. This is particularly important as most of these girls were already undernourished. The committee's report notes that there was no uniform reporting system for Adverse Events Following Immunisation (AEFI), which included nausea, vomiting, diarrhoea and abdominal pain as well as giddiness, jerky movement and neurogenic shock. Worse still, the girls had no health insurance cover for treatment in case they fell ill on being vaccinated.

Consent by proxy

Although the committee does not indict either the drug company or the organisation that conducted the study, and also concludes that the inclusion of girls between the ages of 10 and 14 was justified given the nature of the drug, it has questioned the “legality and morality” of the circular from the Andhra Pradesh government permitting hostel wardens and head masters to sign the consent forms on behalf of these girls without informing their parents. It has gone further by stating: “The committee stresses that everyone shall desist from research on tribal population, unless of specific benefit to them.”

The HPV vaccine controversy draws attention to one aspect of clinical studies and trials, how vulnerable groups are roped in without proper consent and without health support in the event of problems. In this case, the connection between the vaccine and the deaths could not be conclusively established. But even where it is, the companies try and get away without paying compensation.

On June 6, newspapers reported that the Drug Controller General of India (DGCI) had summoned nine drug companies who conducted clinical trials that led to the death of 25 people. According to the DGCI records, last year, a total of 670 people who were part of clinical trials died. But the death of only 25 could be linked to the drugs. Of these, only five families were compensated within a range of Rs. 1.5 to 3 lakhs.

This news item gives us a small window into the ‘industry' of clinical trials in India that is worth millions of dollars. It has been clear for some time that these trials need to monitored much more closely. Some of this kind of scrutiny is taking place. Apart from official bodies like the DGCI, there have also been some independent studies. One of these, by Sandhya Srinivasan titled, “Ethical concerns in clinical trials in India: An investigation” for the Centre for Studies in Ethics and Rights, is particularly instructive. Ms. Srinivasan has looked at the trials of three drugs, a drug to treat breast cancer and two drugs for psychiatric conditions. Many of these drugs are expensive and it is tempting for those with terminal conditions, like cancer, to agree to be part of such trials. The report reveals the many loopholes in the rules and regulations that allow drug companies to appear to be sticking to the letter of the law while violating the spirit.

Going unnoticed

The ethics of human clinical trials is a complex subject that requires more space to discuss than is available in this column. But the two developments – the report of the government committee on the HPV vaccine and the DGCI's intervention on the question of compensation for trial related deaths – illustrates how so many things remain hidden until there is a crisis, or some independent group investigates. The problems remain hidden particularly when the people involved are the voiceless, like the young girls of Khammam district. Had it not been for groups like SAMA, perhaps no one would have ever known about what was going on.

This is not to say that new drugs should not be developed to combat disease. No one questions the need to test these on humans before they are licensed for use. But the process of certification of their safety should not lead to death or disability of those who are part of the trials. Nor should the precondition of consent be abused the way it was in Andhra Pradesh. And nor should the financial vulnerability of the majority of people in India when faced with a health crisis be cynically exploited for such trials. The onus is on the manufacturers of these drugs, who claim they are producing them to save human lives, to actually do so.

(To read the original click on the link above)





Monday, June 06, 2011

How green is my paper?




The Times of India, which never fails to surprise, was in fact the best in using the day, and the day before, to bring across some serious stories on the environment.  KALPANA SHARMA regrets the fact that the overall trend is to turn environmental reporting into entertainment. Pix: Kaif at the NDTV Greenathon
 
Posted Monday, Jun 06 00:45:07, 2011

SECOND TAKE
Kalpana Sharma
 
The Indian media has embraced certain days and made them so routine that they seem to have lost all meaning. International Women’s Day on March 8 for instance has become the day to target women for all kinds of consumer products. The occasional article might remind us that the struggle for women’s equality or for justice has a long way to go. But overall it is a marketing bonanza.
June 5, World Environment Day, is not far behind in this except that the target audience is everyone, not just women. So companies vie with each other on June 5 to announce their ‘green’ credentials and the media laps this up as it means more ads and more revenue. How ‘green’ these companies really are, is rarely investigated.
This year, some newspapers – Hindustan Times in Mumbai – announced their ‘green-ness’ by turning virtually all their headlines and strap lines green. That is surely a novel way of demonstrating your commitment to protecting the environment! As far as content of the so-called environmental stories goes, they were entirely predictable. At a time when complex issues are reduced to personal pledges, environmental concerns are also simplified into suggestions of how people should grow their own vegetables, use showers that waste less water etc. Commendable as all this is, it does not touch the seriousness of the environmental problems the country faces.
The Times of India, which never fails to surprise, was in fact the best in using the day, and the day before, to bring across some serious stories on the environment. On June 4, in the lead up to World Environment Day, TOI’s Mumbai edition carried the kind of environmental story that is fairly rare these days. One, taking off from the recent alarm raised about a toxic laden ship heading for Alang’s ship-breaking yard in Gujarat, was a report on the local ship-breaking yard. Darukhana, located along the city’s eastern coast, has more than 6,000 workers dismantling ships. Their exposure to health hazards has been termed ‘critical’ by a United Nations special officer who, according to this reporter, visited the site in 2010. The story was comprehensive, with quotes from workers involved, and with a box item about the kind of hazards that they encounter while breaking up ships. For someone who did not know that shipbreaking is an environmental hazard, here was an article that illustrated it simply and well.
Another excellent environmental story, on the same day, was about the environmental damage being caused to the ecosystems along the Konkan coast by indiscriminate sand mining. No Mumbai paper has recently written about such environmental hazards to the Konkan coast even though the area has featured repeatedly because of the agitation against the Jaitapur nuclear power plant. An alert and environmentally conscious reporter covering the latter would have heard about other concerns that the people living in these coastal areas have about their environment.
The point I want to make is that environmental reporting can so easily be reduced to predictable ‘feel-good’ stories, or DIY (Do It Yourself) manuals, rather than investigative stories that expose the callous disregard for the environment by government, industry and often by ordinary people. 
Environmental reporting has now been mainstreamed and is no more restricted to features pages as it was in the 1980s when the word ‘environment’ was automatically equated with conservation. Today, environmental stories are political, and not just because our current Environment Minister, Jairam Ramesh, manages to enmesh himself in political controversies with his pronouncements and retractions.
It is surprising, therefore, that no newspaper or television channel has thought it worthwhile to follow up the Jaitapur agitation and the Fukushima disaster with its own investigation into the areas around Indian nuclear facilities (access to these, of course, is heavily restricted). In the past, the doctor couple, Sudheendra and Sanghamitra Gadekar has documented the impact of radiation on communities living near the Rawatbhatta nuclear facility in Rajasthan. What is happening there today? Sriprakash from Jharkhand made a powerful film on the uranium mines of Jadugoda and the health impact on local people. What has happened there? Tarapur in Maharashtra, which houses one of the oldest nuclear plants, has been in the news every now and then because of complaints by fisherfolk about the impact of the release of hot water on their fish catch. Have things changed for them? There are dozens such stories on the nuclear issue alone that merit investigation.
The Times of India invited Rajendra Singh, India’s ‘water man’ so to speak, to be Guest Editor of their issue of June 5. But what Singh did to revive a river in Alwar district needs replication in hundreds of places around the country. Water – both its availability and the quality of water in our water bodies – is a perennial environmental story. Yet rarely do we come across reports exposing what is happening to our rivers and lakes, particularly those located away from media centres and therefore automatically from media attention.
Environmental reporting comes in spurts. When global warming is the subject of an international conference, we see a rise in the number of articles on the subject. Most often, these are reports of the international negotiations on global warming without enough value addition to explain what this will mean for India. Sometimes such occasions do produce articles on regions that are already experiencing the impact of global warming, such as the Himalayas. But once the international spotlight shifts, so does the attention of our media.
It is possible that smaller papers and magazines, including those in Indian languages, are doing some good investigations that are not picked up by the more prominent and mainstream media. Yet, what becomes evident is that the overall trend is to turn environmental concerns into entertainment.
I must have missed something but NDTV’s Greenathon is one such effort that slightly mystifies me. Are we expected to believe that the presence of Katrina Kaif dancing to “Sheela ki Jawani” and Cyrus Broacha and Farah Khan exchanging inanities with anchor Vikram Chandra, to raise funds for environmental innovation, will wake those watching and listening to the seriousness of the environmental crisis this country faces? 
 (To read the original, click on the link above)

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Slaving for their dowry

The Hindu, Sunday Magazine, May 29, 2011


THE OTHER HALF

KALPANA SHARMA
How the global garment industry is using regressive customs in Tamil Nadu, enabling it to exploit young women workers…

Behind the smiling exterior of a fast-growing economy lie the tears and tragedies of women like these workers.

Photo: K. PICHUMANI

No respite: Killing working schedules...

Girls. Dowry. The two go together. No matter what you do to separate them, they somehow get conjoined, like twins that have remained connected in one body. We are told this is one of the main reasons parents don't want girls. So avoid girls.

But girls cannot, and should not, be avoided. So the government makes laws, NGOs campaign for the ‘girl child', there are special schemes and incentives for families to ensure that their daughters survive and prosper. It would be politically incorrect to do the contrary, to encourage killing girls, or to encourage dowry. At least, that is what you would conclude.

Yet, even today, dowry is being used as a bait to tempt poor families to surrender their daughters in the belief that they will return with a dowry. Extraordinary as this might sound, this is precisely what has been happening in the readymade garment industry in Tamil Nadu for over a decade.

Global chain

The readymade garment industry is global. Millions of people, the large majority women, work at different ends of the chain – from spinning the yarn, to weaving the cloth, to cutting the cloth, to sewing the garment, to finishing the garment. After this, the global end of the business kicks in as the garments are priced and sold to well-known brands across the world and supplied to retail outlets. But the price a consumer pays at one end of the chain has no relation to the amount the woman at the other end is paid.

In India, one of the major countries supplying readymade garments to the global market, some of the women at the end of the chain are girls as young as 14. And the bait held out to lure these girls, many of them from desperately poor families, is the promise of a lump sum at the end of three years that could go towards their dowries. Thus a global industry is directly reinforcing and exploiting regressive customs to get its workforce.

What is worse is that this workforce, lured in this manner, is virtually bonded. A disturbing report on the Sumangali Scheme, introduced 10 years ago by garment manufacturers in Tamil Nadu, brings this out. ‘Captured by Cotton' is a 38-page report by two Dutch organisations — SOMO (Centre for Research on Multinational Corporations) and ICN (India Committee of the Netherlands). They looked at four “vertically integrated” companies in Tamil Nadu that are part of an integrated chain that eventually supplies well-known brands retailing in the West. The reason for the investigation is because many of these brands subscribe to the idea of “sustainable chain management” that would require abiding by international labour standards. The Sumangali Scheme clearly does not conform and is, according to this report, “synonymous with unacceptable employment and labour conditions, even with bonded labour.”

What is this scheme? Recruiters are sent to the most impoverished villages in Tamil Nadu to approach families with daughters between the ages of 14 and 21. The families are told that their daughters will be well looked after for three years, will live in a hostel where they will get three meals a day and time for leisure activities. At the end of the three years, in addition to their wages, they will be given a lump sum ranging from Rs. 30,000 to Rs. 50,000. There are 120,000 girls working under this scheme in Tamil Nadu.

The proposition is extremely tempting for these poor families, of whom more than half are dalits. If indeed what is promised is delivered, one could argue that there is nothing wrong with the scheme. But the problems lies in the fine print, something poor families are unable to decipher when they sign on.

Thus, according to the report, girls working under the scheme have reported that they are made to work 12-hour-shifts, with only a five minute tea break and half hour lunch break; that when there is an urgent delivery to be made, they can be asked to work double shifts and they do not have the option to refuse; that they are not allowed to keep cell phones and can only make one phone call a month from a landline close to the supervisor's office, and that they have no place to go if they have a problem.

Inhuman conditions

At work, the girls have to stand for hours. Said one of the girls: “Workers had to get permission from the supervisor for everything, even for going to the toilet. We had a male supervisor. The supervisor was constantly scolding; he used a lot of abusive words. I didn't like his behaviour. He even hit on our heads.”

Some of these girls are either physically sick, or so tired, that they give up half way. This means the lump sum they were promised is forfeit. It is only paid if they work the entire three years.

In any case, what seems like a generous bonus is actually less than what they would have earned had they been paid the official minimum wage rate. In Tamil Nadu, the minimum wage is Rs. 171 per day. But employers have found a way around this by designating these girls as apprentices and thus paying them lower wages. Beginning with just Rs. 60 a day, the girls get paid Rs. 110 a day at the end of the three years. While the apprenticeship scheme is limited to one year in other states, in Tamil Nadu it is legal for three years.

The report contains several heart-rending accounts by girls who worked in different factories. One girl recounted how she did get the promised lump sum at the end of the three years. But by then she was so ill that she had to undergo an operation to remove the cotton balls accumulated in her stomach as a result of breathing in cotton fibres through the day every day. “During my stay at the factory, my parents arranged a marriage partner for me. I was engaged for a while but the marriage was cancelled because I couldn't pay the dowry because all the money was spent on medical expenses. I will never be able to marry because I don't have any money and I still feel sick”, she told the investigators.

Even the provision of three years work is manipulated to squeeze out the maximum number of days from the girls. The three years are broken up into 36 services, each consisting of 26 working days a month. If a girl misses even one day in a month, she has to do an additional 26 days to make up. Thus the number of days needed before you can get your money keeps increasing.

Reports like this get precious little play in our media. Yet, behind the smiling exterior of a fast-growing economy lie the tears and tragedies of women like these young garments workers.

Fortunately, this report has resulted in dialogue between the groups representing the interests of the workers and the employers. So we might well see a happier ending to this story. But this is only one story, brought to light because someone cared to look closer. There are so many more that remain hidden.

(To read the original, click on the link above)Slaving for their dowry

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Selling bodies or selling sports?

The Hindu, Sunday Magazine, May 15, 2011


THE OTHER HALF




Sportswomen have not only to get past traditional prejudices but also have to overcome commercial pressures to make themselves more attractive and marketable…
Photo: R. Ragu 

GIVE THEM THE CHOICE OF DRESS: Jwala Gutta (left) and Ashwini Ponappa in action.

When a 15-year-old girl from Nizamabad in Andhra Pradesh comes back with a gold medal for, of all sports, boxing, there must be reason to celebrate. In a week dominated with grim news from around the world, the success of young Nikhat Zareen in the Junior World Championships in Antalya, Turkey in the 50 kg category of boxing was like a welcome ray of sunshine.

Nikhat's story, like that of the other three women boxers from India who also won gold, is remarkable for a number of reasons. All of them — besides Nikhat there is Sarjubala Devi from Manipur, Lalenkawli from Mizoram and Minu Basmataray from Assam — have chosen to excel in a sport that is considered “unwomanly”. All of them come from modest backgrounds without the monetary backing to pursue an individual sport of any kind, leave alone boxing. Lalenkawli's parents, for instance, are farmers and she had to travel 300 km to the only training centre in Mizoram's capital, Aizawl. The others also have similar stories.

Relatively lucky

Nikhat is lucky in that her father, Jameel, is a former state-level football player and understands the pull of sports. Neither he, nor his wife Parveen, stood in Nikhat's way when, at the age of 12, she announced that she wanted to box. Her role models were two male cousins who were boxers. She was the only girl who wanted to pursue boxing. Luckily, her uncle, who was training his sons agreed to teach Nikhat. So Nikhat learned to box with the boys. On June 14 she turns 15. In the span of three short years, she has already made a name for herself.

“As a Muslim girl, it was a tough choice to make as everyone questioned what I was doing in the boxing ring,” Nikhat told a journalist. “There were almost no female boxers where I trained in Hyderabad, and I was often alienated.” But she got past this and now joins a remarkable group of Indian women boxers led by the redoubtable Mary Kom from Manipur.

Multiple obstacles

Nikhat's success throws light once again on the vexed issue of women and sports in India. It continues to be an arena of considerable neglect. Sportswomen in this country face an incredibly hard time getting past traditional prejudices about women playing sport. If they succeed, they enter a world dominated by games that men play. Women's sports receives little attention by the media or by the sports authorities compared to the money and time invested in the men. Things change if some women like Nikhat, or the women's hockey team, come back with medals from international fixtures. Fleetingly, they hog the media spotlight. But even before we get to know their names and faces, the focus turns back to the dominant sports. Between tournaments, the women go back to their jobs, usually in institutions like the Railways, and work away until the next big tournament.

Despite all this, it is remarkable that an increasing number of women are making a name for themselves in sports. Women like Saina Nehwal, who has become the face of women's badminton alongside the equally accomplished Jwala Gutta and Ashwini Ponappa. But Nikhat is more fortunate than these women in some ways. No one is telling her, yet, what she should wear when boxing. Women badminton players, on the hand, have been slapped with a “skirts only” rule by the men who head the Badminton World Federation (BWF). Why a compulsory dress code only for women players? The BWF, apparently, decided on this course following advice from the sports marketing giant, Octagon. They wanted to make the women's game more “attractive” and “marketable”.

In other words, the BWF wants women badminton players to look more attractive on court. This, they believe, will draw more eyeballs to the game. What about their skills as players? It would appear that does not matter as long as they catch the male gaze. It seems incredible that someone can seriously contemplate such a rule, and that too for these reasons.

Different reactions

Predictably, many women players have raised strong objections. As a result, the rule has been deferred by a month. Britain's leading mixed doubles player, Imogen Bankier has said, “I will fight to make sure this dated and simply sexist rule does not happen.” Several players from different countries have said that skirts will come in the way when they play and they prefer shorts. The Indian girls have not been so forthright. While Saina has said it was not an issue, Jwala has emphasised that they should be given the choice whether to wear skirts or not.

But what is really troubling about the decision is the blatant effort to use women's bodies to sell the game. And for this, the cue has been taken from women's tennis, where glamour has played a big role in drawing an audience. But there is a big difference. The Women's Tennis Association (WTA) is managed independently and women players have a say in its decisions. Thus, what women wear is decided by women players and not imposed by a male club. If women tennis players choose to be seen as fashion statements, it is their choice. But it has not diminished the power of their game. Maria Sharapova might look like a model but no one can question her skill as a player. Ditto Venus Williams. While those like Anna Kournikova, who drew attention only for their looks, have fallen by the wayside because their game was not up to the mark. People come to watch good tennis, not to gawk at women players who are fashion statements.

It is tragic that at a time when more opportunities are opening up for women, they are told they must “sell” themselves, make themselves “marketable” if they want to get financial backing for their chosen sport. Men too face the pressure of finding sponsors. But they are not asked to dress in a way that shows off their well-toned bodies and attracts female fans. While it is true that there are both men and women who go to watch football, cricket or tennis matches because they find the players good-looking, surely they will not persist unless they also enjoy the game.

As the lines between commerce, entertainment and sports disappear, young women wanting to make a career in sports face tough choices. If they don't have money, they can't train the way they need to succeed. But if they concentrate on looking presentable and finding endorsements, they are likely to be dismissed as being non-serious and in it only for the glamour. The bottom-line, however, is that those who manage a sport must respect sportswomen and give them the freedom to choose how much they bend to these commercial demands. It is unacceptable that a group of men decide how they should dress on court for no other reason than to make them “marketable”.

(To read the original, click on the link above)

Wednesday, May 04, 2011

Osama is dead, long live print!



What we heard were the predictable voices, the concerted attempt to fix Pakistan’s complicity and the self-righteous tone of ‘security experts’ from India.  Indian news television still has some way to travel when dramatic developments such as Osama’s killing take place, says KALPANA SHARMA
 
Posted Wednesday, May 04 17:14:57, 2011


SECOND TAKE
KALPANA SHARMA
The last word on the Osama bin Laden killing has not been spoken or written yet.  Questions are flying all over the world; there is a deliberate opaqueness in the selective information released by the United States that is fueling speculation and scepticism.
In such a situation what is the role of the media? Should it try and glean as much information as it can and put it out in the public realm before it launches into airing opinions?
Indian news channels, given their past record, routinely fail to provide essential information on a development before they start bombarding viewers with opinion. The hours after President Obama announced the success of his country’s operation to kill Osama bin Laden were not very different. It is true that little information was available barring what the President had announced. It is true that Indian channels do not have reporters in Pakistan and had to depend on feeds from Pakistani channels to get the first images and information.
But surely, in this day of the Internet, it would have been possible for news desks in this country to put out cogent information about the site of the attack, Abbotabad, and piece together background that would help viewers make better sense of the story. But if you watched only television, you were left with dozens of questions unanswered. So when May 3 dawned, it was a relief to turn to the print media to fill in the gaps in information.
Of course, in the middle of all the grim business, we got a bit of entertainment. For some channels, it was not Osama who had been killed but Obama! NDTV India was the first off the mark killing off the American President and through the evening, talking heads on other channels kept slipping up on the two names, making them virtually interchangeable. The prize for doing this repeatedly should probably go to the irrepressible Arnab Goswami of Times Now who repeated his trademark command performance by inviting Pakistanis to the channel and not allowing them to speak.
But coming back to backgrounding ‘breaking stories’, most news channels fall short even though some make more of an effort than others. Here print scores and for those readers/viewers who want to go beyond the favourite talking heads on TV, the next day’s newspapers do fill in some of the gaps – which include simple facts such as who are ‘US Navy Seals’ (forces trained to operate on sea, air and land).
Thanks to Arshad Yusufzai, a freelance journalist based in Peshawar, we know from his story reproduced in Indian Express that Abbotabad is in the Hazara province of the former North West Frontier Province, now called Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. That the majority of the population in the district is Hazara and not the Pakhtuns with kin across the border in Afghanistan. That Hazara province has not seen the violent terror attacks experienced elsewhere in Pakistan, particularly in Punjab. That the elite Pakistan Military Academy that everyone kept referring to on TV channels as being a “stone’s throw away” from the hideout where Osama was killed is actually on the outskirts of Abbotabad in a place called Kakul. And that the locals referred to the strange mansion where Osama hid out as the “Waziristan Haveli”.
You could argue that all of this is trivia that print media is forced to report because television now hogs all the breaking news. I suggest this is value addition. It gives a perspective. It erases the black and white nature of stories and introduces tones and shades of grey. It nuances events so that our understanding of what happens is backed by history and geography and not just high drama.
A good illustration of the best you can find in print on a day when television goes berserk with the breaking news is the lead from a story filed by veteran Middle East correspondent Robert Fisk, who has interviewed Osama bin Laden more than once, in The Independent, London (May 3):
“A middle-aged non-entity, a political failure outstripped by history – by the millions of Arabs demanding freedom and democracy in the Middle East – died in Pakistan yesterday. And then the world went mad.”
In a couple of sentences, Fisk has placed the incident within the larger perspective of the Middle East, something hours of viewing television news in this country fails to provide. That perhaps is the magic of the printed word; it allows you to read again and to think.
The English language newspapers in India were on the whole full of information, based on reprints from foreign papers, and surprisingly restrained compared to the high-pitched debates on television the night before. So restrained in fact that Business Standard had the clearance of the Posco plant in Orissa as its first lead and a photograph of people gathered outside the White House as the second. In the caption to the photo Osama’s name was mentioned but nowhere in the headline.
In contrast, all the other non-business papers and the business papers carried the news as the first lead. The prize for the most original headline should probably go toDNA: Obama bins Laden.
Speaking of headlines, the American Press was a story of contrasts. The Poynter Institute, has put together the front pages of a number of American newspapers that graphically illustrate how a headline reflects the stance of a newspaper. Headlines ranging from “We got the bastard” (Philadelphia Daily News) to “Burn in Hell!” (Edmonton Sun) to “Rot in Hell” (New York Daily News) to “Got him! Vengeance at last! US nails the bastard” (New York Post), reflect the mood in the US on the night of May 2. But these are mostly tabloids; broadsheet newspapers like New York Times and others followed their traditional, low-key style even when there was such a big story. Not for them the screaming eight column headers.
Indian news television still has some way to travel when dramatic developments such as Osama’s killing take place. What we heard were the predictable voices, the concerted attempt to fix Pakistan’s complicity and the self-righteous tone of ‘security experts’ from India. What we needed at this time were some thoughtful voices from Pakistan about what these developments mean for a country that is beleaguered by the internal divisions in their society and a weak political system. Perhaps making such demands on our news channels is asking for too much. Fortunately, with a more restrained and informative print media, we do not face the danger of a convergence of the two media singing the same tune – of hysteria, of vengeance, of triumphalism. 
 (click on the link above to read the original)