The Unsung Commandos of Cleanliness

The Invisible Army

Every dawn, millions of sanitation workers step out to clean our streets, unclog drains, and scrub public toilets. They are the backbone of Swachh Bharat. Yet, while cities compete for stars and certificates, these workers remain invisible—often with no protective gear, no health cover, and no career path.

Recent numbers tell the story starkly: 63 sewer deaths in 2023, 52 in 2024, most without protective equipment. Since 1993, over 1,313 sanitation workers have died in sewers and septic tanks. In one review of 75 cases, there was only one conviction. The law may ban “manual scavenging,” but the deaths show that little has changed on the ground.

By the numbers: 1,313 sewer/septic deaths since 1993 63 deaths in 2023 52 in 2024 >90% without protective gear 1 conviction in 75 cases reviewed

Why They Matter

Sanitation workers are as critical to public health as doctors, police, or firefighters. They are the commandos of city hygiene—facing the dirtiest, most dangerous jobs daily.

But unlike other frontline services, their welfare is barely discussed. Cleanliness rankings reward infrastructure, but the workers who make the system run are given only token recognition.

The Invisible Army

The Missing Voice of Workers

Caste and stigma

Academic research shows how sanitation work remains deeply linked to caste.

• A 2024 study (Sanitation work: occupation or caste identity?) shows how sanitation roles are passed from one generation to the next, locking families into these jobs.

• The National Campaign for Dalit Human Rights (NCDHR 2023) highlights how Dalit women face multiple layers of discrimination—gender plus caste—when working as sweepers or cleaners.

• The Centre for Policy Research (2023) notes that sanitation workers remain outside robust social protection systems, because caste stigma continues to invisibilise their needs

Unions under pressure

Sanitation workers have unions, and they are vocal.

They strike against privatisation (as in Chennai in 2025), they fight for regularisation (as in Bengaluru, where 12,692 workers were made permanent in 2025), and they protest attendance systems they see as unfair.

• In June 2025, Gurugram’s sanitation union opposed a new portal-based attendance system, calling it impractical and punitive.

• In Karnataka, workers demanded the scrapping of biometric attendance. To many unions, these digital tools are less about accountability and more about control.

• The tension is clear: cities want tighter tracking of routes and hours, but workers fear these systems ignore ground realities—like late trucks, equipment breakdowns, or unsafe sites—penalising them for problems beyond their control.

But unions also have limits. Like many public sector unions, they are accused of protecting even non-performing members. This makes city administrations more eager to privatise, where they can pass responsibility to contractors and sidestep direct negotiation with workers.

The Invisible Army

The Contracting Dilemma

Privatisation is growing across Indian cities. But do contracts protect workers? On paper, yes.

• Many municipal RFPs mandate PPE (helmets, gloves, boots, masks, uniforms) and even prescribe penalties (₹500 per day per worker not in PPE).

• New frameworks from MoHUA in 2025 promote mechanised cleaning to reduce manual entry into sewers and tanks.

• Rural sanitation guidelines already detail PPE and rescue protocols.

In reality, though, enforcement is weak. Audits and journalism often find workers without gloves or masks. Gear, when provided, may not fit, may be poor quality, or may not be replenished. Contractors often cut corners, and supervisors rarely penalise.

Public Pressure—or Lack of It

One reason change is slow is the absence of public outcry.

Garbage strikes in Chennai or Bengaluru make headlines because piles of waste inconvenience residents. But worker deaths in septic tanks rarely spark the same protests.

This is why political incentives skew: cities prioritise visible cleanliness in public areas (to score higher in Swachh Survekshan) but spend less on worker welfare. The ranking system pressures the workforce to keep streets spotless but doesn’t demand equal accountability from citizens to not litter in the first place.

How Others Do It

Singapore

• Treats sanitation like an industry. Cleaning staff must be certified through the Environmental Cleaning Workforce Skills Qualifications framework.

• Workers are trained, provided gear, and have supervisors who monitor compliance.

• Cleaning companies are graded, and poor performers risk losing contracts.

Tokyo

• Heavily mechanised cleaning, reducing reliance on manual sweeping.

• Workers operate vehicles and machines, making the role more skilled and less hazardous.

Europe

• Unions and worker councils push for gear standards, wages, and career paths.

• Sanitation workers are often city employees with access to the same health and pension benefits as other municipal staff.

PPE Kits: Reality Check

India’s Blind Spot

India’s rankings have incentivised building toilets, treatment plants, and processing facilities. But worker welfare is just a minor part of the scorecard—a few hundred points at best.

• Protective gear as a baseline, not a luxury.

• Clear rules on mechanisation, so no one enters a septic tank or drain.

• Career ladders—so a worker can aspire to be a team leader, a facility supervisor, or a plant manager.

• Respect and visibility—the way Indore celebrates its “cleanliness marshals” should be the norm, not the exception.

India has built toilets, treatment plants, and collection systems. It has achieved rankings and improved visibility of cleanliness. But unless it protects and empowers the people doing the dirtiest, riskiest work, the system will remain fragile.

Sanitation workers are not just labourers. They are the commandos of public health. If India can protect them with gear, dignity, and a future, it will not just win certificates—it will win cleaner, healthier, and more humane cities.