Child labour, wage discrepancies and serious health risks — these are the issues our team observed on a visit to the biri (handmade cigarette) factories in Barishal earlier this year. In the first report of this two-part series, we focus on child labour.

When you think of child labor in Bangladesh, your mind might first go to the sight of children toiling on construction sites without any safety precautions, inhaling toxic fumes in welding shops, or dismantling ship parts in a shipyard.

But often overlooked are children who work in beer (hand-rolled cigarette) factories — an industry that’s considered the fourth most dangerous for children, according to the Ministry of Labor and Employment’s Child Labor Unit.

And there is a reason behind it.

In the breweries of Bangladesh, an underground economy of child labor has flourished, circumventing laws that prohibit hazardous work for anyone under 18.

Many such breweries were established in Barishal division over 45 years ago. Barishal town has three such factories while Jhalakathi district has four others.

According to the Factories and Establishments Inspection Department, Barishal alone is home to 16 of the 38 occupations classified as hazardous to child labour, beer production being a major one.

Earlier this year, our newspaper visited these factories, witnessing first-hand the cycle of exploitation that keeps children in the grip of dangerous work.

Officially, children are not employed, nor are salaries issued in their names. However, 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 extremely poor — are hired to work in factories, but instead of completing the work themselves, they bring children, often their own, to help with the work.

For others, the service is simply handed over entirely to the child of another family. This allows the adult to seek additional income elsewhere while the child puts in hours of painful labor on their behalf.

In this system, wages rarely go directly into the hands of young workers. When payday arrives, the adult “employee” receives the full payment, only a portion of which trickles down to the child who actually did the work.

“I work here every day, but when it’s time to get paid, my uncle comes to take the money,” says one child, who works long hours rolling cigarettes. “Sometimes he gives me a little, but most of it is his.”

Owners, well aware of the loophole, turn a blind eye, feigning ignorance when confronted with questions. “We don’t employ any children here,” said one factory manager, seeking anonymity, when pressed about the young faces working around him. “Parents can sometimes bring their kids, but they’re not our responsibility,” he said.

Authorities also play a complicit role, rarely inspecting facilities or enforcing regulations that could protect these children.

Prolonged exposure to tobacco dust can cause lung disease, stomach ulcers, high blood pressure and serious impediments to both physical and mental growth, according to a report by the Child Labor Unit of the Ministry of Labor and Employment. Work since 2013.

BARISHAL BREWERIES

In the Karikor Biri factory — the oldest of Barishal’s seven beer factories — nearly 80 children could be seen hunched over, working long hours to keep up with production quotas.

I stand for hours with my back hunched and my fingers stained from handling raw tobacco.

Many of them suffer from persistent cough. Mostly parents were seen working side by side with their children.

Without childcare options, many women have no choice but to bring their children. Infants and young children often sit on dirty factory floors, exposed to the same risks as their mothers.

Young children crawl through layers of tobacco dust, inhaling it, with health consequences that may only manifest themselves years later.

Bangladesh has ratified the ILO Convention on the Worst Forms of Child Labor since 1999, a commitment to eliminate child labor in hazardous industries.

CHILDREN AT RISK

Eleven-year-old sixth-grader Nurul Islam, one of the youngest workers at the Karikor Biri factory, breathed shallowly, noisily, as he sat on a carpet of discarded tobacco leaves, coughing every few minutes. “It hurts to breathe,” he said, pausing to catch his breath. “But if we don’t work, my family won’t have enough food. My mother works here too.”

“I can pack 2,000 biris a day,” Nurul said.

In another corner of the factory, nine-year-old Mithila, her face streaked with sweat and fingers stained dark brown, echoed Nurul’s words. “Sometimes, I feel like there’s something stuck in my chest,” she said.

“I see other kids coughing and struggling to breathe, but we don’t really talk about it. That’s how things are here.”

Then there is 10-year-old Jahangir, who has been seen rolling cigarettes with machine-like precision.

“I get a headache almost every day because of the smell in here,” he said, grimacing as he looked around the smoky room.

“When it’s really bad, I go out for a while, but I have to go back to help my parents, or I’ll fall behind on my work. I know it’s not good for me, but I have no choice. .”

Siddiqur Rahman, a former professor at Sher-e-Bangla Medical College, highlighted the significant link between tobacco use and rising rates of tuberculosis (TB) in the region.

Rahman treats approximately 2,000 TB patients annually, with more than 60% of these cases linked to tobacco use. He said that tobacco does not only affect adults but also leads to serious health problems and even deaths in children.

AN inherited curse

Meanwhile, 19-year-old Fatema Akther was seen sitting cross-legged, rolling. Her 13-month-old son rocked in 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 with a son.”

Her mother Minara, 40, sat by her side doing the same work.

She reminisced about her own beginnings in the factory. She used to come here every 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 next to her and eats in silence, integrating herself into the factory routine.

Like Shila and Fatema, many mothers in these factories bring their toddlers and young children because they have no other option.

“The dust here makes my son cough all the time,” says Shila, looking worriedly at her daughter. “I worry about her health, but I have nowhere to leave her.”

SALARY DISCREPANCIES

Permanent factory workers are paid Tk 90 for manufacturing and packaging 1,000 beer sticks. These workers hold permanent identity cards and receive direct payments from the factory owner. Orders are assigned based on these ID cards, with more experienced workers receiving larger orders. Older workers receive a maximum order of 32,000 beer sticks per week, while newer employees are assigned only 16,000.

The factory owner provides the paper and tobacco needed for production. However, due to low wages, permanent workers subcontract labor to local women and children for as little as Tk 35 to produce and pack 1,000 beers.

The outsourcing process involves paying Tk 16 for making the paper stick, Tk 3 for filling with tobacco and Tk 16 for sealing and packaging the 1,000 beers.

As a result, permanent employees make a profit of Tk 55 per 1,000 sticks. Meanwhile, they often take up alternative jobs such as rickshaw driving or running tea stalls while outsourcing their labour.

WHAT THE AUTHORITIES SAY

Mokter Hossain Niraji, inspector of the Barishal Factories and Establishments Inspection Department, said, “Children above 14 years can work subject to certain terms and conditions. If we receive information about children under this age threshold, we draw up files.”

According to the Divisional Labor Protection Board’s 2020-2021 database for the elimination of child labor, 129 children were removed from hazardous jobs, including about 40 from beer factories.

Bijoy Krishna Dey, managing director of Karikor Biri Company Limited, told The Daily Star, “We do not employ children in biri making; is strictly prohibited. We provide equipment to permanent workers and pay them wages.

I don’t know of any child working in the factory, but action will be taken if there are complaints.”

During an inspection by the Factories Department and a meeting of the Divisional Welfare Board for the elimination of child labour, it was recognized that children were engaged in hazardous occupations such as brewing.

However, when discussing the elimination of child labor in breweries, committee members argued that many children were brought to the brewery by their parents for safety reasons and were not technically considered child laborers.

However, both committee members and parents acknowledged that the presence of children in the factory, and in some cases their involvement in the work, contributed to significant damage and loss.