Woes of Sri Lankan refugees seem to be never ending; they look for tangible help from the new govt in T.N. and Centre
“To preserve our self-respect, we sold all that we had in Vayuniya, cleared our debts, and crossed the sea seeking refuge in India so that
“To preserve our self-respect, we sold all that we had in Vayuniya, cleared our debts, and crossed the sea seeking refuge in India so that we can start afresh with our dignity intact. But here we fight almost every day to protect the only thing we have - our self-esteem,” says Mary, 35, (name changed) with eyes brimming but with a trembling smile on her lips. One among the 60 families that made the perilous journey to India after the sudden economic crisis hit Sri Lanka in 2022, she along with her family of five are now housed in Mandapam. As India is not a signatory to the United Nations Refugee Convention of 1951 or the Protocol of 1967 relating to refugees, anyone entering India without a valid Indian visa is seen as an ‘illegal immigrant’. India manages refugees according to its own domestic laws and policies. As a result, the Sri Lankan Tamils, who arrived during 1983–2009 due to the ethnic conflict, were granted refugee status. They receive State welfare and have obtained Aadhaar cards.
But those who have come due to the economic instability in Sri Lanka are in a state of limbo; they have not been issued Aadhaar cards but are provided food and a home within the Mandapam camp. Mary’s husband, who was a small time trader in Sri Lanka, has now learnt masonry and takes up work in and around Ramanathapuram. Similarly, Raja, 32, who was a sales representative in Sri Lanka, does odd jobs here. “We are not willing to go back because there is nothing for us there. I am interested in setting up an event management firm but I am unable to do so as I have no identity proof even to buy a cell-phone or open a bank account,” he points out. This vulnerability due to lack of identity card is being exploited by the local people in Mandapam and also by those refugees who had come earlier and have obtained identity certificates. These migrants fall prey to a parallel local economy that runs on commission. “My husband is a painter and the contractor pays wages on Google Pay.
The phone he uses is in the name of a petty shopkeeper from Mandapam. So, his wages are credited to that account as we are unable to open a bank account. So, each time we come to get money, he charges us a commission of ₹100 for every ₹1,000,” says Jeya, 52, (name changed). Kathir, 27, (name changed) narrates a similar experience and says “For the local people here and for the long-time refugees in the camp our plight has become a thriving business,” he charges. “Our children find a place in schools only due to the benevolence of teachers. Due to the absence of Aadhaar cards, we are not sure how our children can go for higher studies here,” he adds. It has been a double whammy for these recent migrants. With no property or viable source of income in Sri Lanka, people like Arokiasamy, 62, see no charm in reclaiming their Sri Lankan identity but here in Mandapam with no identity cards being issued, he says, “we are the undocumented countryless people.” “Even within the camp those who escaped the war see us as mere people who have come here to eat,” he points out.
The BriefWire