ALANG SHIPYARD (India): Kamal Mandal packs his greasy clothes, pausing to glance at a ship being ripped apart bit-by-bit by an army of workers on the Indian coast.

Seven years ago, Kamal and eight village friends left home in Bihar in the east in search of work when their crops failed.

They found work in Alang, India’s biggest shipbreaking yard, on the coast of the western state of Gujarat.

For years, they toiled inside the great ships, sending money back to their families.

But life has changed for Kamal and the migrant labourers who came to Alang with dreams of a better future.

With few ships now, there is little work and even less money.

A fortnight ago, India’s Supreme Court allowed the cruise liner Blue Lady into Indian waters so it could be scrapped, but only after a thorough inspection of its contents.

Environmentalists want the ship, which contains tonnes of asbestos, banned to protect the workers.

Blue Lady is anchored 73 nautical mills off Alang, awaiting clearance by health and environmental experts before it comes in.

Blue Lady could reverse Alang’s bleak future.

A green light will provide a lot of much-needed work for the shipbreakers and ancillary businesses but, more importantly, deal a blow to environmentalists battling to have toxic and hazardous materials banned from the shipbreaking yards.

“Some years ago, I could take home money, gifts and even utensils that were found inside the passenger ships. This year, I only have a table fan given by my employer as a parting gift,” says Kamal, as he packs to leave.

“I am going back to my house. I feel frustrated with no work and not being able to feed my family.”

With world metal prices sliding, changes in India’s tax structure and the campaign by environmentalists accusing the shipbreaking industry of polluting and not protecting its workers, Alang has been struggling to survive under pressure.

Last year, more than 6,000 workers left. Officials fear it will be worse this year. At its peak in the late 90s, about 45,000 men worked at Alang. Now there are just 12,000.

In addition to the 45,000, the 12 km stretch known as the graveyard for ships of the world also supported more than 5 million people connected to the industry.

Supertankers, car ferries, container ships and giant cruise liners were dismantled here.

“There was action all the time,” says Alang port officer A.K. Rathod. “People could be heard bargaining, negotiating everywhere.”

The Blue Lady is the latest controversy to dog Alang.

A recent Greenpeace report said thousands of shipbreakers in countries such as India, China and Pakistan had probably died in the past two decades from accidents or exposure to toxic waste.

And in February, France recalled its decommissioned aircraft carrier Clemenceau after an outcry over the asbestos it contained.

But the Gujarat Maritime Board, which leases out the yards in Alang, says they can handle toxic and hazardous waste.

Alang dismantled 700 ships between 1997-1999, more than 200 a year. Last year, It was just 100 and only 34 so far this year.

Many workers who have turned to other trades and businesses are considering shutting their shipbreaking operations.

“Environmentalists project us as greedy, inconsiderate businessmen. We care for our workers and their health,” says S.K. Jain, a member of the Alang ship recycling association.

Jain says employers ensure workers are well protected and wear gloves, masks, helmets and proper shoes.

Labourers say they attend safety workshops and participate in mock drills on handling hazardous chemicals. Colourful posters with safety instructions for workers are seen across the town.

“Do we stop living as there is always a fear of dying? We are in a risky job where accidents are bound to happen,” says Gautam Mohanto, a worker who lost his right hand in an accident.

Now 38, he works under the scorching midday sun, hammering machinery retrieved from the ships with his left hand.

“It is sad to see labourers leave Alang. But being unemployed for a while is better than being exposed to deadly gases here every minute,” says Gopal Krishna, a spokesman for Greenpeace.

“The workers have no health insurance and no proper medical facilities. Most of them suffer from chronic respiratory ailments.”

Doctor P.K. Munshi, who has been working on projects to revive Alang as an eco-friendly shipbreaking zone, says:

“Alang has to match international standards to survive.”

Setting up a well-equipped hospital, modernising fire stations and disaster management techniques and providing health insurance to labourers are just few reforms to begin with, he says in Ahmedabad, Gujarat’s main city and commercial centre.

Bored workers say the only exciting days in Alang now are those rare ones when a passenger ship comes in.

Traders gather to bid excitedly for furniture, electrical goods, wine and even dogs and birds found inside the cabins.

“The rest of the days pass by waiting for ships,” complains Jaideep Prasad as he deals cards to colleagues near the oil-stained shore.—Reuters

Deep depression stares at one in the face this Friday evening as the shocking news of the tragic death of Allama Hasan Turabi and his nephew, Ali, come in with stories of escalating public concern in Karachi once again. We wonder, once again what kind of days will unfold now? This is not the first such killing in Karachi, making one wonder where the Sindh capital is going. It has been bleeding for long now, and bleeding to death as well. A time for tears, once again.

What is the state of law and order here? This is a legitimate question, recurring and fearful. Memories of death and destruction in Karachi in the past come alive. It is a scary feeling all over again. There is much to mourn. To contemplate. Quite understandably the Nishtar Park tragedy also comes to mind. Other instances of terrorism in Karachi which have yielded no success in tracking down the culprits are being mentioned — and either in anger or in despair.

The overall subject of this column was intended to be the insecurity of the streets of this bustling city and the simultaneously growing anxieties of citizens symbolised by the brazen manner in which, for instance, mobile phones are being snatched or cars taken away at gunpoint. I wanted to focus on the expatriate couple that was robbed in the city during the week, when they came here after 45 years spent in Britain. Their apartment in Gulshan-i-Iqbal was burgled; the loss being about Rs2.2 million worth of valuables, cash and foreign currency.

And the lady, Mrs Zulfiqar Ali, who had come here for the marriage of her son, said this: “As were told that banks were not safe and people got robbed while coming out of banks, we kept the valuables at home.” And this is what happened at her home. The vulnerability of homes and the extent to which private guards have been employed at them is a point to mention here. She said further that “they tell me that police are involved with the criminals. I don’t know who to trust here. Such things happen in the United Kingdom also, but in Britain, at least one can have full trust in the police.”

The emphasis on ‘full trust’ that the lady refers to, needs to be noted here. It makes one contemplate at what must be going through the minds of Mrs Zulfiqar Ali and her family at the shocking incident that took place on Friday. What is the message that we give to expatriates? What is the image they take back home?

Street crime is refusing to get curbed and the question marks about our law and order levels are increasing. One needs to mention here that Karachiites have become very wary and are familiar with the stories that come of airline passengers being robbed and looted on their way home from the city’s airport. Quite often this happens on the way to their home, or as soon as they have reached home. And at times, fake constables are behind the crime.

Citizens are aware of the political dimensions that exist with reference to the law and order issues that challenge the sanity and stability of this society.

There are citizens that refer to the fact that there was an attempt on the life of the noted and learned Allama Hasan Turabi, an MMA leader, a few months back, and luckily he survived. Therefore, what was the level of personal security that he had been provided with?

There are other citizens, who are once again referring to the repeated assaults that are taking place in and on Karachi, continuously giving to the Sindh capital a poor, bruised image — rendering futile the concerted efforts being made to improve law and order, and the quality of life. Both official quarters and political leaders are saying once again that there is a conspiracy to hurt Karachi, and its economic base, so as to destabilise the country as a whole.

Who is behind the conspiracy, if there is one? One private TV channel (as well as citizens) believes that there are international conspiracies which are targeting Karachi. And we are vulnerable? So vulnerable? “Are we the target of a hidden agenda?” asked one tense Karachiite as we discussed the current mood of the city.

Let me also refer to the quality of life that is continuously being undermined by two particular forms of street crime that appear to defy solutions. Mobile phone theft and snatching at gun point, and car snatching and car theft. One citizen observes that while car thefts and snatching have been going on, with highs and lows in the graph, the street crime of mobile phones is relatively new. It seems to be growing in proportion to the expansion of the cellphones network. Sales of cell phones are spiralling; the sets are becoming expensive, and stylish. And stories of cellphone theft and snatching at gun point are so common that at times the victim does not even get personal attention, sympathy being a far cry.

This newspaper has been focusing on the disturbing number and the manner in which mobile phones are being snatched, at times the owners losing their lives as well. There is a sustained focus on the car snatching and car theft too, which in a way makes one wonder about the quality of the effort that is being made to tackle this problem. Why can’t the police the other law enforcing agencies produce results that would instill confidence in the public? Public perception of police efficiency and management remains poor.

I want to refer here to the data for January-June 2006 with regard to the cellphones that have been snatched and the lives that have been lost in this six month period. The phone robbers killed 47 people, in Karachi and injured 118 individuals (men and women) while they resisted attempts to snatch their phones or cash. (Insecurity around the ATM machines remains a growing threat, as banks enlarge their operations). It has been reported that this number of deaths and injuries has risen by a worrying 19.3 per cent over the last six months of the same period in 2005.

As one ruminates over the data, it needs to be noted that there is more theft of mobile phones than snatching which means that if a citizen doesn’t take care of his mobile set, he can lose it. It is a temptation too strong to resist. Also, that the police have no data for phone-related deaths. However, the fact remains that in trying to save your phone, you can lose your life.Finally, I seek to return to the Allama Hasan Turabi theme as I sign off. I find myself both sad and depressed. Most of us have lived only in Karachi all our lives. Let us pray for this city, for its residents.