A Berlin-based political analyst with a decade of experience covering European affairs and a passion for investigative journalism.
For months, threatening phone calls recurred. Originally, allegedly from an ex-law enforcement official and a retired army general, later from the authorities. Finally, Mohammad Khurshid Shaikh asserts he was called to the local precinct and instructed bluntly: remain silent or experience severe repercussions.
This third-generation resident is among those resisting a expensive initiative where Dharavi – an iconic Mumbai neighborhood – will be bulldozed and modernized by a multinational conglomerate.
"The culture of this area is exceptional in the planet," states the protester. "Yet their intention is to eradicate our community and stop us speaking out."
The narrow alleys of Dharavi sit in stark contrast to the high-rise structures and elite residences that overshadow the area. Residences are assembled randomly and typically missing basic amenities, informal businesses emit toxic smoke and the atmosphere is saturated with the unpleasant stench of exposed drainage.
To some, the promise of a renewed Dharavi into a developed area of luxury high-rises, organized recreational areas, modern retail complexes and apartments with two toilets is a hopeful vision achieved.
"We lack proper healthcare, proper streets or water management and we have no places for kids to enjoy," explains a tea vendor, fifty-six, who migrated from southern India in 1982. "The sole solution is to tear it all down and build us new homes."
But others, such as this protester, are opposing the redevelopment.
None deny that Dharavi, historically ignored as informal housing, is urgently needing economic input and modernization. Yet they are concerned that this initiative – absent of public consultation – is one that will convert valuable urban land into a luxury development, evicting the lower-caste, migrant communities who have lived there since the nineteenth century.
These were these marginalized, relocated individuals who established the empty marshland into a frequently examined example of community resilience and business activity, whose economic value is estimated at between $1m and a substantial sum annually, making it one of the world's largest unofficial markets.
Among approximately a million inhabitants living in the crowded 2.2 square kilometer neighborhood, less than 50% will be qualified for alternative accommodation in the redevelopment, which is projected to take seven years to complete. The remainder will be transferred to barren areas and salt plains on the remote edges of the city, threatening to fragment a generations-old social network. A portion will not get residences at all.
Residents permitted to stay in the area will be allocated apartments in multi-story structures, a significant rupture from the natural, collective approach of dwelling and laboring that has supported this area for generations.
Commercial activities from tailoring to pottery and waste processing are expected to decrease in quantity and be relocated to a designated "business area" distant from homes.
In the case of this protester, a leather artisan and long-time of his family to reside in this community, the project presents a fundamental risk. His rickety, three-storey workshop makes apparel – formal jackets, luxury coats, studded bomber jackets – distributed in high-end shops in the city's affluent areas and overseas.
His family resides in the accommodations underneath and laborers and garment workers – laborers from other states – live on-site, enabling him to afford their labour. Beyond Dharavi's enclave, accommodation prices are often significantly costlier for minimal space.
Within the official facilities nearby, a visual representation of the transformation initiative shows an alternative vision for the future. Slickly dressed people move around on two-wheelers and electric vehicles, purchasing western-style baked goods and croissants and enlisting beverages on an outdoor area near Dharavi Cafe and dessert parlor. It is a stark contrast from the inexpensive idli sambar breakfast and 5-rupee chai that maintains Dharavi's community.
"This represents no progress for our community," explains the protester. "This constitutes a massive property transaction that will render it impossible for residents to remain."
Additionally, there exists concern of the business conglomerate. Run by a powerful tycoon – among the country's wealthiest and an associate of the government head – the conglomerate has faced accusations of preferential treatment and financial impropriety, which it disputes.
Although administrative bodies describes it as a partnership, the business group contributed nearly a billion dollars for its 80% stake. Legal proceedings stating that the project was questionably assigned to the business group is under review in the nation's highest judicial body.
Since they began to actively protest the development, local opponents assert they have been faced ongoing efforts of pressure and threats – comprising phone calls, clear intimidation and suggestions that speaking against the initiative was comparable with anti-national sentiment – by people they claim represent the business conglomerate.
Part of the group accused of delivering warnings is {a retired police officer|a former law enforcement official|an ex-c
A Berlin-based political analyst with a decade of experience covering European affairs and a passion for investigative journalism.