Childhood lost in rolling biris
Child labour, wage discrepancies, and serious health risks -- these are the issues our team observed in a visit to the biri factories (hand-made cigarettes) in Barishal earlier this year. In the first report of this two-part series, we focus on child labour.
When you think about child labour in Bangladesh, your mind might first drift to the sights of children toiling in construction sites without any safety precaution, inhaling toxic fumes in welding workshops, or dismantling ship parts in a dockyard.
For all latest news, follow The Daily Star's Google News channel. But often overlooked are the children working in biri (hand-rolled cigarette) factories -- an industry that's considered the fourth hazardous for children, according to Child Labour Unit of the Ministry of Labour and Employment.
And there is a reason behind it.
In Bangladesh's biri factories, a shadow economy of child labour has flourished, sidestepping laws that prohibit hazardous work for anyone under 18.
Many such biri factories were established in the Barishal division over 45 years ago. Barishal city has three such factories while Jhalakathi district has four others.
According to the Department of Inspection for Factories and Establishments, Barishal alone houses 16 out of the 38 professions classified as hazardous for child workers, biri manufacturing being a major one.
Earlier this year, our newspaper visited these factories, witnessing firsthand the cycle of exploitation that keeps children in the grip of hazardous labour.
Officially, children are not hired, nor are salaries issued in their names. Yet, the reality inside these factories tells a different story -- one that circumvents regulations, allowing children to work in dangerous conditions under a legal smokescreen.
The arrangement is as murky as it is insidious. Often, adult workers -- many of them desperately poor -- are hired to work in the factories, but rather than completing the job themselves, they bring in children, often their own, to assist with the work.
For others, the job is simply handed off entirely to another family's child. This allows the adult to seek out additional income elsewhere, while the child puts in hours of back-breaking labour on their behalf.
In this system, wages rarely reach the hands of the young workers directly. When payday arrives, the adult "employee" receives the full payment, only a fraction of which trickles down to the child who actually did the work.
"I work here every day, but when it's time to be paid, my uncle comes to take the money," says a child, who works long hours rolling cigarettes. "Sometimes he gives me a little, but most of it is his."
The owners, well aware of the loophole, turn a blind eye, feigning ignorance when confronted with questions. "We don't employ any children here," a factory manager said, seeking anonymity, when pressed about the young faces working around him. "The parents might sometimes bring their children, but they're not our responsibility," he said.
Authorities also play a complicit role by rarely inspecting the facilities or enforcing regulations that could protect these children.
Prolonged exposure to tobacco dust can cause lung disease, stomach ulcers, high blood pressure, and severe impediments to both physical and mental growth, said a report of Child Labor Unit of the Ministry of Labor and Employment in 2013.
BIRI FACTORIES IN BARISHAL
In the Karikor Biri factory -- the oldest among Barishal's seven biri factories -- nearly 80 children could be seen hunched over, working long hours to keep up with production quotas.
They sit for hours on end, their backs hunched and fingers stained from handling raw tobacco.
Many of them suffer from persistent coughing. Mostly, parents were seen working side-by-side with their children.
With no childcare options, many women are left with little choice but to bring their children along. Infants and toddlers often sit on dirty factory floors, exposed to the same risks as their mothers.
Toddlers crawl through layers of tobacco dust, inhaling it, with health consequences that may only manifest years down the line.
Bangladesh ratified the ILO's Worst Forms of Child Labour Convention back in 1999, a commitment to eliminate child labour from dangerous industries.
CHILDREN AT RISK
Eleven-year-old Nurul Islam, a student of class six, one of the youngest workers at the Karikor Biri factory, took a shallow, rattling breath as he sat on a mat of discarded tobacco leaves, coughing every few minutes. "It hurts when I breathe," he said, pausing to catch his breath. "But if we don't work, my family won't have enough to eat. My mother also works here."
"I can package 2,000 biris a day," said Nurul.
In another corner of the factory, nine-year-old Mithila, her face streaked with sweat and her fingers stained dark brown, echoed Nurul's words. "Sometimes, it feels like there's something stuck in my chest," she said.
"I see other kids cough and struggle to breathe, but we don't really talk about it. This is just how things are here."
Then there's 10-year-old Jahangir, who was seen rolling cigarettes with machine-like precision.
"My head hurts almost every day from the smell here," he said, squinting as he looked around the smoky room.
"When it's very bad, I go outside for some time, but I have to come back to help my parents, or I'll be behind on my work. I know it's not good for me, but I don't have a choice."
Siddiqur Rahman, a former professor at Sher-e-Bangla Medical College, highlighted the significant link between tobacco use and the rising rates of tuberculosis (TB) in the region.
Rahman treats around 2,000 TB patients annually, with more than 60 percent of those cases linked to tobacco use. He said tobacco not only affects adults but also leads to serious health problems and even fatalities in children.
AN INHERITED CURSE
Meanwhile, 19-year-old Fatema Akther was seen sitting cross-legged, rolling biris. Her 13-month-old son cradled on her lap.
"I started coming to the factory with my mother, Minara Begum, when I was just a child," she said. "Now, I'm married and have a son."
Her mother, Minara, aged 40, sat beside her, doing the same work.
She reminisced about her own beginnings in the factory. She used to come here each day with her own mother, Hajera Begum.
In another section, 28-year-old Shila Halder was working at her station.
Shila's husband is employed by an NGO in Mehendiganj, but she continues to work here due to financial constraints.
Her four-year-old daughter sits beside her, eating her meal in silence, blending into the factory's routine.
Like Shila and Fatema, many mothers in these factories bring their toddlers and young children along because they have no other choice.
"The dust here makes my son cough all the time," says Shila, glancing anxiously at her daughter. "I worry about her health, but I have no place else to leave her."
WAGE DISCREPANCIES
Permanent employees at the factory are paid Tk 90 for manufacturing and packaging 1,000 biri sticks. These workers hold permanent ID cards and receive direct payments from the factory owner. Orders are assigned based on these ID cards, with more experienced workers receiving larger orders. Senior workers are given a maximum order of 32,000 biri sticks per week, while newer employees are assigned only 16,000.
The factory owner provides the necessary paper and tobacco for production. However, due to the low wages, permanent workers subcontract the labour to local women and children for just Tk 35 to manufacture and package 1,000 biri.
The subcontracting process involves paying Tk 16 for crafting the paper stick, Tk 3 for filling it with tobacco, and Tk 16 for sealing and packaging the 1,000 biri.
As a result, permanent employees make a profit of Tk 55 per 1,000 sticks. In the meantime, they often take on alternate jobs, such as driving auto-rickshaws or running tea stalls, while outsourcing the labour.
WHAT AUTHORITIES SAY
Mokter Hossain Niraji, inspector for the Department of Inspection for Factories and Establishments in Barishal, said, "Children above 14 years can work by fulfilling certain terms and conditions. If we receive information about children below this age threshold, we file cases."
According to the 2020-2021 database of the Divisional Child Labour Elimination Welfare Council, 129 children were removed from hazardous jobs, including around 40 from biri factories.
Bijoy Krishna Dey, managing director of Karikor Biri Company Limited, told The Daily Star, "We do not employ children in biri-making; it is strictly prohibited. We provide equipment to permanent workers and pay them wages.
I'm unaware of any children working in the factory, but action will be taken if complaints arise."
During an inspection by the Department of Factories and a meeting of the Divisional Child Labor Elimination Welfare Council, it was acknowledged that children were involved in hazardous occupations such as biri making.
However, when discussing the elimination of child labour in biri factories, committee members argued that many children were brought to the factory by their parents for security reasons and were not technically considered child labourers.
Despite this, both the committee members and the parents admitted that the presence of children in the factory, and in some cases their involvement in work, contributed to significant harm and loss.
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