Shift in livelihood towards a silent social reform: Voices from the unheard - the Rishi Community of Bajua Union, Dacope, Khulna
Sumon Hossain Rabby
Along with the millions of gallons of water flowing down the river Rupsha, a silent march towards getting social justice by changing occupations was also taking place for years across the “Rishi” community of the Bajua Union, located just beside the river.
Rishi community, also known as Dalit, primarily consists of underprivileged, and socially and economically excluded people of Hindu religion. However, this community could be described better as a livelihood community than a specific cast of Hindu religion, as they are traditionally involved in processing leather, shoemaking or repairing leather shoes. They face numerous social stigma which are often related to their work, deeply rooted in the history of this part of the world.
When we went to the Bajua Union of Khulna District with an expectation to find and talk to the Rishi community, we found the community gradually disappearing as a livelihood group. We found a huge number of underprivileged Hindu people involved in other professions, e.g., van-pulling and barbering. This observation motivated us to investigate deeper. As we could not reach this community, scattered over a large area, arranging an interview session with a representative group was the only option. However, we had none other than the Panel Chairman of the union from the community to talk to. The primary insight that we derived from the interview was that the rishis have slowly been shifting their livelihood from leather works to other professions.
Why is this shift gradually becoming more and more common, especially in the last decade? Out of several possible factors such as the amount of daily earnings and prospects of work, the most important one, according to the community representative, is the aspiration for social justice!
There was a time when this community, identified only by their traditional occupation of leather works, was considered untouchables. If any Rishis arrived at any gathering, other people moved away. They could not sit in any tea stalls at the bazar, and they were not invited in any social or religious festivals, offerings, or rituals. Getting education has been elusive for long, especially for the girls and women. Although not strictly denied, their access to drinking water was constrained. They were treated as the lowest class people among the locals, even when the level of their income was sometimes comparable to or higher than that of a van-puller or a barber.
The Rishis seem to have started to come out of the social stigma when they started changing their professions. Most of them started barber shops, some started pulling vans, and some started open water fishing, essentially diversifying their livelihood in the process. Those who got involved in barbering started to earn a good amount of money. With more and more shift from their ancestor’s profession, their social status seems to be improving with time. Although the inclusion of the community with other locals is facing limited or no resistance today, the process of the livelihood-shift to earn social acceptance is still ongoing in some cases.
In the backdrop of the core SDG principle of ‘leaving no one behind’ gaining traction in coastal Bangladesh, the insight derived from the interview on the social inclusion of Rishi communities and acknowledgment of their social rights, along with their needs of adequate basic amenities and secure livelihoods, clearly points to the need for more thorough research.
But assuming this as a more or less a true depiction of the complex social dynamics, cannot we say that the shifts in the livelihood of the Rishis have played and are still playing a vital role in reforming social dynamics and establishing social justice for them?