Much like their counterparts all over India, they have been driven into thetrade to fend for themselves and their families, and are glaring examples ofhow the state has failed utterly to curb child labour or to ensure educationand housing facilities for street children.

Eight-year-old Kuber pays a bribe of Rs 5 to the ticket collector every dayto reach Lingaraj Temple railway station from Bhubaneswar with 10 other boyshis age. On reaching their destination, the boys have a breakfast of breadand tea before trudging off with sacks in search of scrap. For the rest ofthe day, it is a search for bits of tin and plastic. Work continues tillsunset after which they head back to Bhubaneswar with their overloadedbags.

"That is not the end of our work," says Kuber. "We go to the malkhana(storehouse) and hand over all our scrap to the scrap dealer who pays us atthe rate of Rs 25 per 100 kg." The entire scrap dealing business hasflourished in Mali Sahi, a shantytown which is in the notorious red-lightarea of this state capital. It has a population of about 500 families,mostly migrants. Over the last 10 years these slum-dwellers have beenevicted several times but have come back due to political backing.

Of the 500 families at least 15 are involved in the collection and sale ofwaste material for the recycling industry. The slum has more than 15storehouses where scrap is collected and then regularly sent to otherstates, primarily West Bengal, by road. "Boys and girls engaged in the scrapdealing trade are treated like orphans," says Mada, a 10-year-old girl whohas been gathering waste for the past five years. "Even those on the roadstreat us with contempt, as though we were less than human and we areconstantly shunned by all," says Mada, who has been suffering fromtuberculosis for the past three years but has undergone no treatment.

Mada's earnings help supplement the meagre income of her family, whichincludes her three sisters and her parents. "Actually it was my mother whoforced me to work so that I could supplement the family income," she says.That child labour is banned has had hardly any impact. "I do not think weare committing any crime by being in this business," says Sukhadev Bhuyan, ascrap merchant who has been in the trade for a decade and a half. "It is ourage-old profession," he says.

Bhuyan's father was also a scrap merchant. While Bhuyan claims he earnsabout Rs 800 a month, others say he earns more than Rs 5,000. Bhuyan employs100 children. "We are providing them jobs as a result of which these kidsare away from the streets and attendant hazards of drug addiction and pettycrimes," Bhuyan says.

Bhuyan may not find the going easy for long if state Labour and EmploymentMinister Bimbadhar Kuanr's words are any indication. "We are seriouslythinking of rehabilitating these children and taking action against peoplewho are deploying them," he says. "Non-governmental organisations shouldalso come forward to eradicate this heinous crime," he said.

However, social activists like Gobind Narayan Agrawal are sceptical of thegovernment's intentions. "In the past also several ministers have saidthings like this but nothing has happened yet," says Agrawal. "Theannouncement of child labour prohibition has remained on paper," he says.And so the plight of the ragpicker children remains unaddressed. "We do notsee any future for ourselves," says Kuber, who fled his home three years agoafter a squabble with his parents. He managed to reach Bhubaneswar where hestarted begging on the streets before he got in touch with Bhuyan and hisarmy of ragpickers. "All my income is spent on my meals," he says. "We donot think about the future."

-- India Abroad News Service