Delhi Diary

We have been misrepresented, say angry residents of Delhi village in eye of AAP storm

In Khirki, a 21st century mall stands opposite a 14th century village. That has raised rents for villagers -- but also brought the sex workers they are so unhappy about.

Khirki gets its name from the intricate windows on the mosque there, one of the finest examples of Sultanate era architecture. The sun shines through the latticework and plays a design game on the floor all day. Ferozshah Tughlaq built the mosque as a pious tribute to Delhi. Completed it 1354, the mosque was restored some years ago. You will still be greeted by a few bats and, despite the best efforts of the Archaeological Survey of India, some garbage thrown by residents around it. From the roof of the mosque, the residential buildings are so close you can speak across the terraces.

Lal Dora, the red thread that colonial city planners used to mark Delhi's urban villages outside city limits, gives Khirki village special status. Exempt from regular construction laws, Lal Dora areas are the site of unplanned development and civic facilities tend to be poor. Most outsiders walking into Khirki see a public art painting on a wall on their right and a Sai Baba temple on the left. They are most likely to turn left before the temple and go to Khoj, an international art collective, for an exhibition opening. But instead of entering Khoj, if you keep walking straight, you will not realise when you have entered Hauz Rani village. Around these two Lal Dora urban villages are the “unauthorised colonies” of Panchsheel Vihar and Khirki Extension. In one end of Khirki Extension are fancier DDA (Delhi Development Authority) flats.

If that sounds like a place on the margins, it isn't. Khirki is the heart of south Delhi, opposite spanking new malls, making it an affordable and convenient location for international migrants and young professionals looking to rent a flat.

The Trouble

“Most of the trouble is in Khirki Extension,” says Nadeem Ahmed, a property dealer. “Here in the DDA flat nobody rents out their flats Africans.” The trouble, he explains, is not so much drugs as it is the flesh trade. On the main road outside the village, every night, cars pull up and roll down the windows. “Nigerian women” living in Khirki Extension negotiate the rate and get into the cars. How does he know they are from Nigeria? “They're mostly Nigerians in Khirki Extension,” he says

Rohtas Singh, a former president of the residents welfare association of the DDA flats, walks into Ahmed's office, repeating the same story about cars pulling up. How does he know whether the interaction between two people is about sex trade? “I can show you and you can judge if it's anything else happening,” he says.

Ditto for drugs, he says. “Do you realise that woman who used to walk home every evening with a bag, she's disappeared lately?” Singh asks Ahmed, who nods. They explain she was a drug seller, and, like the sex workers, has disappeared after Delhi law minister Somnath Bharti's midnight raid on 16 January.

They insist they are not racist or xenophobic. Despite this, Singh says only 1 percent of Africans are “not bad”. Ahmed puts the figure at 20 percent. “But the Afghans and Yemenis are all good,” Singh says. “Their women cover their heads when the walk down the road. Not even by mistake will you find a single one of them involved in anything wrong.”

To further prove that his motivation is not racist, he talks about one African he had befriended, a footballer. “Even he was shady but he never did anything inside the colony,” Singh says. “He claimed to be a footballer but I wonder who he played football with in Delhi!”

Sex work involving foreign nationals is flourishing in Delhi. While sex workers from eastern Europe are better  known, Khirki's residents say they are not seen in public. “Parde mein rahein to chalta hain,” says Ahmed. If it's behind the curtains it is ok. “But the Africans parade on the streets and make an open culture out of it,” he said. “That is a problem.”

Illegality aside, how is consensual trade in flesh and marijuana hurting the locals? “Area to kharab hota hai na,” is the refrain. The area gets a bad name. “Would you like your neighbourhood to be known as a red light area?” says Singh. “If yes then please take them there.”

Singh and Ahmed say that one pick-up point was the Sai Baba temple from where you turn in for Khoj – and a number of residents of Khirki and Hauz Rani villages independently pointed out the same spot.  Sameer Naqvi, a young finance professional, meets me outside the temple and agrees to take me around the area. “Before 16 January, after 10 pm, they would be standing here as if in a beauty contest, all lined up,” he says. “They have all now disappeared.”

Sameer lives in the Muslim-dominated Hauz Rani, where he says he has some African neighbours and they are just fine. “About 10 percent of them are good people,” he says. As he takes me to Hauz Rani, we meet his uncle on the way, who tells him not to speak to the media. “You people are only going to say we are racist and the minister should be sacked. There is no use,” the uncle says. Another young man joins in threatening violence against the media if they didn't stop what he sees as false propaganda.

Culture Clash

In Hauz Rani, a local woman running a boutique refuses to reveal her name and requests that her boutique's name not be published. “The problem with Africans is that our night is their daytime,” she says. “They walk around these lanes and openly smooch each other. They are my customers, I know them. One man keeps buying a lot of bedsheets. I wonder why.” We are joined by her neighbour, an alumnus of the Jawaharlal University who works in Parliament. “One day one of them was doing obscene activities on the road, around 11 pm,” he says. The woman running the boutique says she saw that. “They do drunken brawls all the time and don't let us sleep,” she adds. “Just last night there was one. LCD monitors were broken.”

But no one says the Africans harass Indian woman or steal anything or cause any direct harm. Does the seller of bedsheets mingle with them? “They don't mingle with us and we don't mingle with them. Why should we get familiar with bad people?”

Seema Pathak, a school teacher, has just returned after giving the Lieutenant Governor of Delhi a letter in support of the raiding minister, who is also the local legislator. “So many times have we complained to the police station but the police never did anything,” she says. “Even if they didn't want to raid any house, they could have increased patrolling or come and seen for themselves what the problem is. Why did they not even do this much?”

In these conversations, the locals regularly use racist words such as 'habshi' and negro' but not in a racist tone. “Not all negroes are bad,” is typically the line. They complain about drugs but can't say what these drugs are. “I know they sell them because I have bought it from them!” says one young man called Shoaib, who lives in neighbouring Malviya Nagar but comes here often. Realising the irony in his complaint about Africans, he adds, “I don't smoke up any more.”

Locals say “the problem” increased manifold in the last two years and they needed to do something about it. But “the problem” began really with three big malls coming up across the road in 2007. The best known among them, Select Citywalk, has become one of the key places for south Delhites to spend evenings and weekends – it was from here that the gang rape and murder victim popularly known as Nirbhaya had boarded the fatal bus along with her boyfriend on 16 December, 2012. The arrival of the malls raised rents in Khirki, and the locals are now less forgiving of the rental culture that is happy to deal with Africans for a premium.

The 21st century shopping mall opposite a 14th century village is not a problem for village residents, as it has helped raise rents and generate employment. Yet it is the malls that have also brought the Africans and the sex work they complain about.

As dusk falls, a lot of people are returning home from work, including many Africans, men and women. But they refuse to speak. Even when approached through their Indian friends over the phone, the Africans are now completely tight-lipped.

After Somnath Bharti's midnight raid, a key role in mobilising media and activist opinion about racism in Khirki was played by Aastha Chauhan, an artist who worked at Khoj until recently. Chauhan has been concerned about everyday racism in Khirki for the past few years. “The worst affected are the children, who grow up learning Hindi and English and can understand the racist jibes hurled at them,” Chauhan says, “And the African women are often harassed and molested.”

It is clear in Khirki that morality is a bigger issue than racism, that sex work around the area is a reality, and the least one can say about the interaction between Africans and Indians is that it is a culture clash. “One African friend of mine, a 50-year-old woman, told me something very interesting,” says Chauhan. “She said that men here see African women independently and confidently walk wearing Western clothes, and feel threatened that their women might do the same.”

Chauhan investigated the sex trade charge and found that the sex workers came from elsewhere and did not actually live in Khirki or its surrounding neighbourhoods. “They mostly stand outside the malls but when the police is tough or hasn't got enough bribes, they come inside to Sai Baba mandir and call the clients there,” says Chauhan.

Along with her friends, she was trying to organise a festival that would provide a common ground for Indians and Africans to interact. Ironically, they approached the new law minister for help. Instead, he told them, "If you feel the police are not taking enough action against the Africans, how about you conduct a sting? You are the first people to speak on their [the African community's] behalf. I will see for myself what has to be done."

He saw it for himself, and now it may be too late for dialogue. The Africans can see on TV news that it is the minister versus themselves, and are planning to move out. The locals will only be happy.

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Removing the layers of complexity that weigh down mental health in rural India

Patients in rural areas of the country face several obstacles to get to treatment.

Two individuals, with sombre faces, are immersed in conversation in a sunlit classroom. This image is the theme across WHO’s 2017 campaign ‘Depression: let’s talk’ that aims to encourage people suffering from depression or anxiety to seek help and get assistance. The fact that depression is the theme of World Health Day 2017 indicates the growing global awareness of mental health. This intensification of the discourse on mental health unfortunately coincides with the global rise in mental illness. According to the latest estimates from WHO, more than 300 million people across the globe are suffering from depression, an increase of 18% between 2005 and 2015.

In India, the National Mental Health Survey of India, 2015-16, conducted by the National Institute of Mental Health and Neurosciences (NIMHANS) revealed the prevalence of mental disorders in 13.7% of the surveyed population. The survey also highlighted that common mental disorders including depression, anxiety disorders and substance use disorders affect nearly 10% of the population, with 1 in 20 people in India suffering from depression. Perhaps the most crucial finding from this survey is the disclosure of a huge treatment gap that remains very high in our country and even worse in rural areas.

According to the National Mental Health Programme, basic psychiatric care is mandated to be provided in every primary health centre – the state run rural healthcare clinics that are the most basic units of India’s public health system. The government provides basic training for all primary health centre doctors, and pays for psychiatric medication to be stocked and available to patients. Despite this mandate, the implementation of mental health services in rural parts of the country continues to be riddled with difficulties:

Attitudinal barriers

In some rural parts of the country, a heavy social stigma exists against mental illness – this has been documented in many studies including the NIMHANS study mentioned earlier. Mental illness is considered to be the “possession of an evil spirit in an individual”. To rid the individual of this evil spirit, patients or family members rely on traditional healers or religious practitioners. Lack of awareness on mental disorders has led to further strengthening of this stigma. Most families refuse to acknowledge the presence of a mental disorder to save themselves from the discrimination in the community.

Lack of healthcare services

The average national deficit of trained psychiatrists in India is estimated to be 77% (0.2 psychiatrists per 1,00,000 population) – this shows the scale of the problem across rural and urban India. The absence of mental healthcare infrastructure compounds the public health problem as many individuals living with mental disorders remain untreated.

Economic burden

The scarcity of healthcare services also means that poor families have to travel great distances to get good mental healthcare. They are often unable to afford the cost of transportation to medical centres that provide treatment.

After focussed efforts towards awareness building on mental health in India, The Live Love Laugh Foundation (TLLLF), founded by Deepika Padukone, is steering its cause towards understanding mental health of rural India. TLLLF has joined forces with The Association of People with Disability (APD), a non-governmental organisation working in the field of disability for the last 57 years to work towards ensuring quality treatment for the rural population living with mental disorders.

APD’s intervention strategy starts with surveys to identify individuals suffering from mental illnesses. The identified individuals and families are then directed to the local Primary Healthcare Centres. In the background, APD capacity building programs work simultaneously to create awareness about mental illnesses amongst community workers (ASHA workers, Village Rehabilitation Workers and General Physicians) in the area. The whole complex process involves creating the social acceptance of mental health conditions and motivating them to approach healthcare specialists.

Participants of the program.
Participants of the program.

When mental health patients are finally free of social barriers and seeking help, APD also mobilises its network to make treatments accessible and affordable. The organisation coordinates psychiatrists’ visits to camps and local healthcare centres and ensures that the necessary medicines are well stocked and free medicines are available to the patients.

We spent a lot of money for treatment and travel. We visited Shivamogha Manasa and Dharwad Hospital for getting treatment. We were not able to continue the treatment for long as we are poor. We suffered economic burden because of the long- distance travel required for the treatment. Now we are getting quality psychiatric service near our village. We are getting free medication in taluk and Primary Healthcare Centres resulting in less economic stress.

— A parent's experience at an APD treatment camp.

In the two years TLLLF has partnered with APD, 892 and individuals with mental health concerns have been treated in the districts of Kolar, Davangere, Chikkaballapur and Bijapur in Karnataka. Over 4620 students participated in awareness building sessions. TLLLF and APD have also secured the participation of 810 community health workers including ASHA workers in the mental health awareness projects - a crucial victory as these workers play an important role in spreading awareness about health. Post treatment, 155 patients have resumed their previous occupations.

To mark World Mental Health Day, 2017, a team from TLLLF lead by Deepika Padukone visited program participants in the Davengere district.

Sessions on World Mental Health Day, 2017.
Sessions on World Mental Health Day, 2017.

In the face of a mental health crisis, it is essential to overcome the treatment gap present across the country, rural and urban. While awareness campaigns attempt to destigmatise mental disorders, policymakers need to make treatment accessible and cost effective. Until then, organisations like TLLLF and APD are doing what they can to create an environment that acknowledges and supports people who live with mental disorders. To know more, see here.

This article was produced by the Scroll marketing team on behalf of The Live Love Laugh Foundation and not by the Scroll editorial team.