During my travels in India a couple of weeks ago, I uncovered much about the history and mystery of the numerous places I visited. Yet, one place left an indelible mark on me: the slum featured in the highly acclaimed movie Slumdog Millionaire. I was guided by a passionate 23-year-old who grew up and still lives in the Dharavi slum.
From the outset, I was struck by the slum's sheer industriousness. The guide explained that Dharavi is home to over 10,000 businesses and 2 million inhabitants — equivalent to the population of Vienna, Austria’s capital city. Peeking through the open doors of countless tiny rooms, I saw 8 to 10 men hunched over sewing machines, tirelessly stitching thousands of shirts, jeans, and other garments. I saw small teams of men cooking and cutting industrial soap and other rooms where workers meticulously cut, stitched and glued suitcases. I also saw workers dying textiles in large barrels emitting toxic fumes without the sight of a protective mask. Mobile phones were commonly used while working and resting. A typical workday seems to last between 14 and 16 hours.
Much of this work, I learned, is mainly commissioned by Western retailers.
What staggered me most was the ingenious system for recycling plastics. Plastics of all shapes and sizes arrive in giant bags worldwide. Workers use a unique method — tapping each plastic item, listening to its sound, and sorting it accordingly. Some items are broken down by hammer and put in other giant bags waiting to be recycled, other pieces are melted, and some are deemed too poor to be recycled.
I saw happy children running down the alleys and mothers preparing food in the residential part of the slum. The slum has schools, doctors, and paid medical care. Nevertheless, the living conditions are harsh: dark alleys, minimal sanitation, and a lack of infrastructure. Access to water, electricity, and proper sewage is limited. Residents need to pay 10 rupees to use toilets. I was told that workers sleep, eat, and work in the same room. Nearby, tall government housing blocks stand as an attempt to provide better living conditions for the inhabitants.
When I asked the guide what the slum needed most and what would happen if much of the work were automated or if demand disappeared for specific work, her response was immediate: “Better infrastructure: water, electricity, proper sewage—and we’ll be fine. And if there’s no demand for what we do, we’d find something else. We must live.” Her voice carried a note of worry as she expressed concern that the authorities might sell the valuable land to developers, replacing the slum with luxury real estate. This would mean losing an entire ecosystem—homes, tightly knit communities, and livelihoods.
The resilience of the Dharavi community deeply moved me, and I know this experience will stay with me, sparking ongoing reflection. Whether we belong to the private sector, government, local communities, or philanthropic organisations, each of us has a role in building a fairer world. For me, a key part of the solution lies in guiding stakeholders to forge genuine partnerships — emphasising collaboration over blame and rethinking how we act to drive meaningful change. What are your thoughts?
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