Panipat’s 20,000 recycling factories supply home furnishings to global brands
For three months, Suraj Kumar’s job was to feed discarded clothes into shredding machines in Panipat, an industrial city in the north Indian state of Haryana. In late August, an electrical short circuit in his machine propelled the 19-year-old into the shredding mechanism, crushing both arms. “I wish I had died rather than lost both my arms,” he said.
Suraj had traveled from West Bengal state to work in Panipat, following cousins and friends who had already found jobs there. He hoped to earn enough to send money home to his parents. An only child, he now fears he has become a financial burden on them; the work he took to help his family has left him dependent on others, with no certainty about what his future will look like.
Panipat sits inside a global waste trade. Clothes discarded in the United States, Canada and Europe arrive in the city to be torn back into fibers and spun into yarn. By some estimates, Panipat processes more than 1 million tons of used clothing every year, making it one of the world’s largest textile recycling hubs. Its 20,000 factories employ about 300,000 people, shredding discarded clothes into yarn and finished products, including home furnishings for brands such as H&M Home, Ikea, Primark, Tesco and Walmart. The workers handle the waste generated by fast fashion — an industry built on buying more and more clothes and wearing them less.
Ramesh Chaudhary, an environmental activist who has worked in Panipat’s labor department, has spent the past five years tracking reports of injuries and amputations across the city. He estimates at least one worker a day loses a limb, rising to as many as five on some days. “Every day, we come across cases of workers injured inside factories, sometimes losing a hand or a leg, and sometimes even dying,” he said. Chaudhary gathers his information through a network of labor contractors who supply workers to factories across Panipat, and not all news of injuries reaches him, he said — suggesting the scale of the problem could be greater.
Between August 17 and 24, the Guardian monitored reports from 11 private hospitals and two government hospitals in Panipat. In that period, six cases of textile workers with severe limb injuries were reported: two workers lost an arm, another lost both, one lost a hand, one lost a leg and the sixth lost their fingers. The Guardian’s reporting was produced in partnership with the Pulitzer Center.
Chaudhary said such injuries are common because machinery in Panipat’s factories often lacks the necessary safety mechanisms. If a worker gets caught in a spinning machine, he said, cutting the power may not stop it immediately — by the time it comes to a halt, the worker may already have catastrophic injuries. During numerous visits to spinning units and factories, the Guardian did not see anyone wearing any kind of safety gear, and none of the workers interviewed reported having safety training.
India’s 1948 Factories Act places a duty on factory owners to protect workers’ health and safety and requires serious workplace accidents to be reported to the authorities. But the effectiveness of safety oversight remains a concern, said Sandeep Sachdeva, co-founder of the Safe in India Foundation, which works to reduce industrial injuries. “Factories are often audited by buyers, especially where quality and critical components are involved, and inspected by government industrial safety and health departments,” he said. “Buyer audits tend to focus more on commercial requirements and product quality than on workplace safety or working conditions.” Government inspections are selected through a central software system, he said, but inspectors are now required to inform factories before visiting. “Their role is now that of a facilitator-cum-inspector – a shift that undermines the effectiveness of inspections, particularly in factories with unsafe working conditions,” he said.
For workers on Panipat’s factory floors, a serious injury also means the loss of a livelihood with no safety net beneath it. India’s textile industry is the country’s second-largest source of employment after agriculture, directly employing more than 45 million people, and an estimated 92% of its workforce is informally employed. In Panipat, more than 90% of workers are employed informally, according to Ina Bahuguna, program manager at the Estonia-based Reverse Resources, which monitors the city’s textile waste. “Formal employment contracts and the social security benefits that accompany them, including pensions, are largely limited to workers in management, clerical roles and some specialised jobs, such as tailoring,” she said. Workers without those protections are left without employer-backed compensation, rehabilitation support or a source of income. When the Guardian asked several factory owners why they hire workers on a contractual or piece-rate basis rather than in permanent positions, most cited the workers’ seasonal migration, saying some did not return to Panipat after traveling home.
Ramashankar Singh, who is in his fifties and comes from Chapra in Bihar, spent 18 years in Panipat’s factories before an accident last year led to his leg being amputated. A hot ball bearing fell on his foot. His injury was first wrapped in discarded cloth, and the factory owner sent him to a pharmacy. The wound worsened as the infection spread; when the owner finally agreed to arrange treatment and admitted him to a private hospital, doctors had to amputate his leg above the knee.
Ramashankar said the owner promised him another job, possibly as a cook or a security guard at the factory. “But that never happened,” he said. The owner also said he would help him secure a government disability pension; Ramashankar has received no pension since the accident and relies on a prosthetic leg provided by a charitable organization. “I have almost forgotten how to live without work. Much of my day now passes lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling fan,” he said. He struggles, he said, with guilt that he has become a burden on his family.
Indrapal Singh lost his arm in 2017 after 15 years working in Panipat, the last two and a half at the factory where he was injured. His hand was caught in a Chinese-made carding machine, which tore away the skin. He was given a painkilling injection, but as the infection worsened his arm had to be amputated, and the factory owner refused to pay his hospital bills. Indrapal spent six years fighting his case through the courts and said he received no compensation. The police told him he had signed documents withdrawing his complaint — something he disputes, saying he cannot read or write. “I lost my arm, fought for six years, and in the end, all I got was a government pension of 5,700 rupees [£45]. The factory owner has faced no consequences, and the factory continues to operate as before,” he said.
“Workers have very little bargaining power when they are up against factory owners who are not only financially powerful but sometimes politically influential too,” Chaudhary said. “For many workers, taking them on in a legal fight is simply not an option.”
Arvind Kumar, the officer in charge at one of Panipat’s 12 police stations, said three workplace injury cases have been registered at his station so far this year, one of them involving the death of a worker. “Fewer than 1% of workplace injury cases reach the police and are formally registered,” he said. Most cases, he said, are settled outside the formal legal system: workers may receive a one-time payment toward medical bills, but are then generally left to manage the long-term consequences of their injuries on their own. The police rarely get involved.
For now, Suraj’s family is grateful that the factory owner covered his hospital bills, and they are not sure whether to register a police complaint. “He [the owner] is like God to us. He is paying for our boy’s treatment,” said his mother, Sita.
Suraj struggles to imagine what comes next. “I thought that if I worked hard for two years, I could buy myself a motorcycle. I had so many things I wanted to do with my life. I never thought I would have to start by figuring out how to live without my arms,” he said.