Children of the Looms: Rescuing the 'Carpet Kids' of Nepal, India and Pakistan¹

Suzanne Charlé

Citation: Charlé, Suzanne. “Children of the Looms: Rescuing the ‘Carpet Kids' of Nepal, India and Pakistan.” Children, Youth and Environments 13(2), 2003. Retrieved [date] from http://cye.colorado.edu.

Keywords: child labor; India; Nepal; Pakistan; NGO

Kathmandu , Nepal- In the Kathmandu Valley, the packed-mud playground of the Hamro Gar school was alive with activity. The huge-eyed Buddha of Swayanbhunath temple gazed down from his mountaintop aerie as children nervously prepared to put on a play. Jhalak Man Tamang, a small boy of about 13- he doesn't know his exact age- calmly waited for his cue. He had rehearsed his lines and knew them well. As for his character, that was no problem, either: the story, about the sale of young boys into the Nepalese carpet industry and their subsequent trials, was one he knew well. Like the 14-year-old playwright and his fellow actors, Jhalak had been forced to work on carpets bound for export to the United States and Europe before he was brought to Hamro Gar- literally, "Our Home."

Figure 1. Children at the RUGMARK-sponsored Harmo-Gar School

Jhalak, one of an estimated 1,800 children under the age of 14 illegally employed by Nepal's carpet industry, found his new home through the efforts of a program called RUGMARK , in which carpet manufacturers and exporters in India, Nepal and Pakistan join with American and European importers and nongovernmental organizations to assure that no child labor is used in creating the beautiful hand-knotted rugs.²  Factory owners and subcontractors agree not to employ children, and RUGMARK representatives make regular, unannounced inspections to make sure they comply. Those that do are given RUGMARK labels- each label with a number corresponding to the specific carpet made on a specific loom- assuring consumers in the United States and Europe that the carpets are child-labor free. Children found on the looms are either returned to their parents and sent to local schools or placed in RUGMARK-sponsored rehabilitation centers and schools, depending on their educational backgrounds.

"The ultimate goal is to break the cycle of poverty by moving children out of factories into schools," says Terry Collingsworth, general counsel for the International Labor Rights Fund in Washington, D.C., who spent a number of years in Nepal working on labor conditions issues.

Jhalak's story is typical: An orphan from an early age, he worked on his uncle's small farm, taking the family cow every day to the jungle. One day, a family friend came and offered to take him away from village life, saying that in Kathmandu, Jhalak could go to school while working at his home. Once in the city, the man broke his promise and sold Jhalak to a carpet master, who forced him to learn how to knot wool rugs on heavy wooden looms. Workdays started at 4 a.m. and went on until 11 at night; the earthen floor of the factory was Jhalak's bed. When the owner had a rush order, Jhalak and the other boys would have to work through the entire night. The owner was so strict that he even complained when Jhalak had to relieve himself. (That part wasn't in the play- Jhalak says it wouldn't have been polite.) He never saw any money. He never had a chance to play except when electricity failed.

A year ago in April, a RUGMARK inspector entered the factory- the exporter who contracted for the carpets had just joined the program. The other boys followed the loom master's orders to run and hide. But Jhalak stood his ground, and after the inspector explained the employment laws and offered him a chance to live at the RUGMARK rehabilitation center, the boy gladly accepted.

Jhalak is one of more than 1,700 children rescued from the looms in India and Nepal since 1995; more than 1,200 are studying in RUGMARK schools and rehabilitation centers.

During the same period, RUGMARK has signed up 130 Nepalese carpet exporters, who manufacture about 65 percent of the nation's rugs in 412 factories. In India, the program licenses 226 exporters, who sell rugs from 28,000 looms- over 15 percent of all those registered by the government. These exporters have shipped more than 2.1 million rugs bearing the RUGMARK label to Europe and the United States. The fees paid by licensed exporters- .25 percent of the cost of the rugs- go for inspections; importers who join the program contribute 1.75 percent, which supports schools and staff. (The India program, which was originally backed by UNESCO and the German Development Agency, is now self-sufficient; Nepal still receives funds from those agencies and the Asian-American Free Labor Institute.)

The program is an integral part of a larger public campaign to stop child labor. An editorial in The Kathmandu Post observed that:

Although legal remedies remain a valid and continuing concern, there is a call for more practical supplemental approaches to protect working children…. Nepal RUGMARK Foundation… is doing some commendable work. The novelty of the programme rests on its ability to work with the carpet industries through a child labour-free carpet certification system, which has already helped to restore childhood to hundreds of carpet children.

The writer and others point out that while the numbers of children found in some industries, such as brick making, has increased or remained constant, the number of children in Nepal 's carpet industry has dropped from 11 percent of the work force to less than 2 percent.

Indian child-labor activists and members of the carpet industry in India and Germany launched the RUGMARK program in 1995. "There are laws on the books in India banning children from working in the carpet industry. The Indian Constitution prohibits work by children under 14 years old," notes Pharis Harvey, executive director of the International Labor Rights Fund and a member of the RUGMARK U.S.A. board. There are similar laws in Nepal and Pakistan. "Enforcement is a whole other thing."

India's export of hand-knotted carpets grew from $65 million in 1979 to $229 million in 1983; an estimated 100,000 children were working on almost as many looms dotted across India's "carpet belt," a 100,000-square-mile swath stretching northwest from the holy city of Varanasi in northern India. In 1985 a documentary about the child-labor situation spurred angry criticism in Europe. A consumer awareness campaign in 1990 sent demand for the hand-knotted carpets plummeting, and by 1993 India's exports had dropped to $152 million. The same year, it was estimated that 300,000 children were working on the looms in India.

In the United States, Senator Tom Harkin sponsored the Pease-Harkin bill, starting in the mid-1990s. Had it passed, it would have banned all goods produced with child labor. (In 2000, Harkin, now a board member of RUGMARK U.S.A., had more luck in pushing through an amendment to the Trade and Development Act requiring all countries receiving trade benefits under the Generalized System of Preferences to ratify and implement Convention 182, which seeks to eliminate the worst forms of child labor. U.S. customs has yet to confiscate any carpet imports, however, explaining that the burden of proof of indentured and forced child labor lies elsewhere.)

In India, a group of carpet manufacturers and exporters- nervous about the bill in the United States and a possible consumer boycott in Europe- turned to Kailish Satyarthi, leader of the South Asian Coalition on Child Servitude (SACCS), an umbrella group of NGOs working to end child labor. After a number of false starts, RUGMARK was established. The first years were difficult. In some villages, bands of loom owners physically attacked inspectors. And the number of child workers found far exceeded the available space in RUGMARK-sponsored schools. Taken off the looms, many ended up in the streets, easy prey for drug and prostitution gangs. "It was like a flood," says Rashid Raza, RUGMARK India coordinator based in Gopiganj. Today, he says, that problem has been solved, thanks to better compliance by licensees' subcontractors, the rehabilitation center in Gopiganj and four other RUGMARK schools in the carpet belt- one of which was built with funds from Nasser Rahmanan, a U.S. importer and RUGMARK board member.

In Nepal's Kathmandu Valley, the brightly colored prayer flags that ripple in the wind above simple brick buildings hint at the history and pedigree of its carpet industry, which started four decades ago when tens of thousands of Tibetans fled their homeland in 1959 after an invasion by Chinese troops. Many refugees who settled in Kathmandu had left everything behind save one talent: the age-old technique of hand-knotting rugs used for prayer and covering doors and windows. In an effort to help the Tibetans earn a living in a strange land, the Swiss Association for Technical Assistance, working with the Nepalese government, gave seed money for looms and the raw material for carpets.

"The designs in the beginning were typical Tibetan, and the small rugs were sold as artifacts in the local market," explains Saroj Rai, executive director of RUGMARK Nepal. "The first commercial export of the 'Tibetan' carpets from Nepal went to Switzerland in 1964. Soon, European carpet traders recognized the possibilities of bringing their own designs and having the carpets made in Nepal. In the 1980s, the annual growth rate was as high as 45 percent, and by early 1990, carpets became the number one export item for Nepal."

Today, there are about 1,000 carpet factories in Nepal, 800 of which export $135 million worth of hand-knotted carpets to Europe and the United States. Virtually all of the factories are located in the Kathmandu Valley, an area roughly the size of London or San Francisco. Fifty thousand work as weavers, and another 100,000 are employed in carding, spinning, dying, washing, transport and other rug-related tasks. Generally, children are found on the looms because the skills are relatively easy to learn, but some are said to participate in almost every stage of carpet making.

Most of the child laborers come from the rocky recesses of the Himalayas or the crowded, fertile fields of the Terai, where poor farms cannot support the growing population. Some youngsters find their own way to the factories, lured by dreams of new clothes, two meals a day, a chance to watch TV. Most, however, are forced into the industry by adults. Some work beside parents in the factories; others are brought in by loom masters who comb the countryside looking for fresh recruits, making deals with greedy relatives, even indebted parents.

Such practices appalled Sulochana Shrasta Shah, a mathematician who started Formation Carpets after a change in university administration sidetracked her career as an academic. "When I first started, I wasn't directly aware of child labor. I remember walking around the factory, seeing the faces, sending children back home." But soon enough she understood what was going on: To fill all the seats at the looms, the loom master with whom the factory owner contracts often recruits family members. In some cases, children show up with parents who have no other resources for them during the work day. "How would people allow their children to sit on the loom?" Shrasta Shah would ask. "Then I realized: The parents simply are not in a position to bring up their children!"

Figure 2. A Weaver with Her Children in Nepal

Shrasta Shah opened a school and a day-care center at her factory and established strict rules- be neat in your appearance and at the loom, be on time, put your children in the school- and in the mid-1990s, along with some other socially responsible factory owners, she helped build support for RUGMARK Nepal. The response was dramatic: Faced with loss of business from Germany, factory owners representing about 65 percent of all of Nepal's exports signed up to become licensees. Shrasta Shah's importers in Germany and the United States supported her efforts.

"Manufacturers in Nepal realized they would lose all their business if they could not assure the consumer that their carpets were child-labor free," she says. RUGMARK Nepal essentially allowed the industry to offer something that competing industries in other countries could not. "It is a competitive advantage."

Aware of India's early problems, RUGMARK Nepal found NGOs with experience in education to set up two rehabilitation centers and three schools. In 2000, RUGMARK Nepal's four inspectors made some 14,000 unscheduled visits to licensees' factories and subcontractors. Riding his motorcycle, Kedar Khatiwada can make as many as 16 inspections in a day. Some factories are models of virtue; children are never found on the looms, only in factory-sponsored schools. Others are more problematic, and these are visited more often. As a back-up, NGOs are asked to make random checks of licensed factories; the news media and the public are also encouraged to report any children seen on RUGMARK looms. Even the police have been known to give tip-offs.

Factory owners get the message. "No children work on the looms here," says the owner of a 16-loom operation who recently joined at the request of a foreign client. "There are too many inspections."

The first time a child is found on a loom, the licensee is given a warning. The second time, he must appear before the RUGMARK officials at the office and discuss the situation. A third offense means that the license is pulled. So far, two have been revoked.

Compared with RUGMARK Nepal licensees- even unenthusiastic ones- unlicensed factories can be jarring. A recent visitor to one found eight looms crowded into a low-ceilinged room lit by a single bulb hanging from a frayed wire. Clouds of wool fuzz drifted in the dusty air. Though the temperature outside was just above freezing, there was no heat. A woman in her early twenties sat at a two-person loom, one child at her breast, another crawling on her lap, a third darting in and out of the dank room like a barn swallow, screaming and yelling with a brigade of children who ran barefoot through piles of debris and stagnant puddles of dye-colored water.

The woman explained that she started working on the looms when she was ten. Her parents came from the Terai district and did not have enough land to support the family. She had never gone to school but hopes to send her children- if she can manage to pull together enough money. "There are three children, and only one husband," she said simply. "If I have enough money, I want to send them to school. If not, I will put them to work."

Such deep poverty is a constant threat to the RUGMARK system, according to Narayan Bhattarai, head of licensing and inspections. Not only do parents put their children to work; some, he says, are so desperate and they find the program so attractive that they actually place the child on the loom so that he or she will be found by the inspectors and taken to the rehabilitation center.

"It's a critical balance of helping the children but not sending a counterproductive message to the community," Saroj Rai added.

To this end, RUGMARK has been focusing on community-based rehabilitation. When possible, children are returned to their families and, if necessary, given stipends for schooling, rather than moving them into the RUGMARK boarding schools. Pavita Lama, a 14-year-old girl found working on a loom by Kedar Khatiwada, is now enrolled at a local school near the single room she shares with a younger brother and her parents, both of whom work in a nearby carpet factory. When Khatiwada made a surprise visit recently, Pavita took a break from studying for exams to thank him for RUGMARK's financial support that pays for her books, school fees and uniforms. She hopes one day to become a teacher, she said, or perhaps a doctor.

To date, 235 children in Nepal have been reunited with their families, and 95 are receiving financial support and counseling from RUGMARK.

Photos of young Indians and Nepalese like Pavita, former workers now free to go to school and to pursue careers, hang among the brilliantly colored rugs designed by Stephanie Odegard in an elegant showroom on New York's Madison Avenue. Initially, Odegard, whose carpets appear on the pages of Architectural Digest and in the homes of entrepreneurs like Bill Gates, was skeptical of RUGMARK, considering it "simply a response to the Harkin bill."

The former World Bank marketing consultant changed her mind when Pharis Harvey convinced her to visit the RUGMARK schools in Nepal, where her company's carpets are woven. "It was so obvious. By supporting RUGMARK, I could make a significant difference, a contribution to stopping child labor."

Figure 3. Nepal RUGMARK Foundation

Putting a full stop to child labor is a distant dream. Despite the progress on the production side in both India and Nepal, only ten importers in the United States have joined. That means that about 9 percent of the carpets coming into the United States in 2000 from Nepal bore the RUGMARK label- about 10,000 carpets worth $6 million. About 1 percent of all carpets shipped from India are so labeled.

"The exporter can't put the label on until the importer also signs on," explains Nina Smith, director of RUGMARK U.S.A., based in Washington, D.C. This meant that many of the rugs that were made by licensees did not have labels and that much needed funds for schools and rehabilitation were not forthcoming. Smith, Odegard and other members of the RUGMARK U.S.A. board are trying to drum up interest within the retail community, courting big firms like Dayton Hudson and Federated Department Stores.

"Often, large importers say that they have their own internal audits," Smith says. But only RUGMARK has a corps of independent inspectors. "Without RUGMARK, U.S. retailers can't know day to day that there are no child laborers on the looms. Consumers want independent verification."

Meanwhile, increased competition, currency devaluations and dwindling demand are driving the average price of carpets down. In Nepal, the average is about $40 per square meter, less than half the price five years ago. Wages for carpet workers have remained constant over the last five years, while the cost of living has doubled or even tripled. As Saroj Rai comments, "That leaves the workers poorer, and the children more vulnerable."

Jeffrey Ballinger, an international labor specialist at Harvard's Kennedy School, says that labeling initiatives like RUGMARK's can be effective in reducing child labor when combined with a good monitoring system and school program. "You may never get everyone on board," he says. "But look at Germany." Last year, 21 percent of the rugs imported to Germany from India (worth $105 million) bore the RUGMARK label. "If you can achieve that in the United States, you'll be making a significant impact." He cautions, however, that changes in labor practices in developing nations occur at a glacial pace.

In Nepal, Saroj Rai and his associates are used to glaciers. "We need to bring that remaining 35 percent into the system," says Bhattarai, referring to the manufacturers who have yet to sign up. He and his inspectors frequently make courtesy visits to the remaining holdouts, armed with pamphlets describing the program and the schools it supports. "Once all the factories are with RUGMARK, there is no chance that a child can run away from a RUGMARK factory to an unlicensed factory…One thing is for sure: If we stop inspecting, the children will show up on the looms again."

Endnotes

1. This field report originally appeared in Ford Foundation Report (Spring 2001), 32(2): 21-25. ©The Ford Foundation. Republished with permission.

The Ford Foundation's Human Rights and International Cooperation unit supports Rugmark's certification program through a grant to the International Labor Rights Education and Research Fund. The foundation funds similar programs that certify wood products and coffee that pay farmers a fair price and are grown in a way that promotes a sustainable environment. They are a response to consumers' growing preferences for products created according to ethical standards.

2. For more information about RUGMARK, see http://www.rugmark.org/index.html

Suzanne Charlé is a freelance writer based in New York City.