The streets of Kolkata and its sprawling suburbs have recently echoed with the rumble of bulldozers. Civic authorities and police, in their mission to reclaim footpaths from unauthorized stalls, have sown panic among street hawkers. After two tumultuous days of uprooting hawkers from Kolkata’s footpaths, West Bengal Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee reversed course.

This decision however, leaves us with an enduring question: Are we truly committed to protecting the fragile fabric of street commerce that weaves the city’s vibrant tapestry, or are we merely postponing an inevitable clash between progress and survival? The streets, bustling with life, await a definitive answer. Street vending, a time-honoured profession, is more than an informal sector activity; it is the lifeblood of urban economies and communities worldwide.

These small-scale entrepreneurs offer affordable goods and services, bridging the gap for low-income consumers unable to access formal retail. As per the International Labour Organization, street vending employs around 100 million people globally, significantly contributing to the informal economy and local tax revenues. Beyond economics, street vendors foster social cohesion, turning streets into vibrant community hubs where diverse interactions flourish. They provide a crucial safety net for vulnerable populations and engage in charitable endeavours.

Environmentally, vendors champion sustainability by promoting local, seasonal products and reducing waste. Politically, they fight for their rights, shaping urban policies and advocating for legal recognition and protection. Culturally, they preserve and celebrate heritage through traditional foods and crafts, enhancing urban diversity. Thus, street vendors are indispensable architects of urban vitality, deserving recognition and support. The Kolkata Municipal Corporation’s latest survey lists 59,085 vendors in Town Vending Committees, yet hawkers’ unions claim the actual number is three to four times higher.

With the enactment of the Street Vendors Act, 2014, and the subsequent West Bengal Urban Street Vendors Rules, 2018, the Town Vending Committee has delineated 1892 areas as ‘No-Vending Zones’ and designated areas for hawking. It is informed that vendors can utilize one-third of footpaths wider than five feet, ensuring two-thirds remain unobstructed for pedestrians.

This meticulous allocation underscores the delicate balance between maintaining urban order and preserving the livelihoods of street vendors, reflecting a nuanced approach to urban planning that respects both commerce and public mobility. Bulldozers are still required, though. The reason is corruption. Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee exposed the sordid nexus between politicians, police, and hawkers, where protection money perpetuates the illegal occupation of public land.

Prime hawking spots become commodities in a shadowy marketplace, with councillors, police, musclemen, and hawker union leaders all vying for their share of the lucrative pie. This ugly reality highlights the complexity of urban management, where the lofty ideals of regulation are continually undermined by the pervasive greed that corrodes the very foundation of the city’s governance. The Chief Minister granted hawkers a month to clear encroachments, forming a panel for a comprehensive survey. Emphasizing that eviction isn’t her aim, she seeks a resolution before Durga Puja, the state’s grandest festival.

This approach reflects a delicate balancing act, blending governance with empathy for the livelihoods intertwined with Kolkata’s vibrant streets. This leniency toward hawkers stems not solely from electoral politics but from a recognition of their vital economic role. Both state and central authorities understand that hawkers significantly contribute to India’s economy. Street entrepreneurs, preCovid, fuelled a parallel economy of Rs 80 crore daily, supporting three others through jobs or partnerships.

So this sympathy transcends mere political strategy; it acknowledges the indispensable role hawkers play in sustaining urban livelihoods and fuelling economic activity. And thus, Union Minister Hardeep Singh Puri extolled the PM SVANidhi scheme, emphasizing its transformative impact on the lives of street vendors. By facilitating over 80.42 lakh loans amounting to Rs 10,678 crore, the scheme has liberated vendors from the clutches of exorbitant informal credit channels. Launched during the pandemic, it aimed to restore the ‘swarozgar, svavlamban, swabhimaan’ of street vendors, fostering financial inclusion and restoring dignity.

Puri highlighted the scheme’s role in empowering 60.94 lakh vendors, extending collateral-free working capital loans and reinforcing their vital economic contributions, underscoring a commitment to their respect and resilience. According to the National Hawkers Federation, half of all hawkers sell food items, and rest earned livelihood from clothing, plastic goods, unbranded crockery, cutlery, and household items. Notably, according to the 2020 report on Women in Informal Employment, women constitute 1.2 per cent among 11.8 per cent of India’s hawkers, primarily aged 35-54, with a majority lacking formal education ~ only 2.3 per cent are graduates.

Despite earning significantly less than their male counterparts ~ Rs 29 per hour compared to Rs 40 ~ many women work over 53 hours weekly, fostering self-sufficiency. These resilient women, navigating challenges with zeal, offer an alternative economic model distinct from the glossy allure of air-conditioned malls, embodying grassroots entrepreneurship vital for inclusive development. While the Trinamool’s gains in the Lok Sabha elections were significant, the urban poll numbers now pose a worrying challenge for “Joraphool.” So, with an eye on 2026, bulldozer politics have commenced across the state ~ initially aggressive, then softening.

Sidewalks, crucial to city life, bear the brunt of these changes. Citizens, already frustrated by encroachments that clog pathways and impede emergency services, especially during the festive Puja season, may find little solace in this act of administration. From Gariahat to VIP Road, makeshift stalls and advertising gates dominate, while relentless honking exacerbates the chaos. But on the other hand, it is also to be remembered that, in the bustling streets from Maniktala to Hatibagan, Lake Market to Ballygunge, street vendors stand resilient against scorching sun and torrential rain, offering sustenance amidst adversity.

Their humble stalls, laden with ‘Jhal-Churmur’, fresh fruits, and cooling sarbats, embody more than commerce ~ they are beacons of hope for families grappling with inequality and poverty. While some enjoy the luxuries of city life, these vendors provide a lifeline, a symbol of freedom, and reassurance to those marginalized by circumstance. As the poet muses,

The naked boy lifts his hand to the sky,

His frail body burns with hunger’s cry.

Moonlight cradles the pavement below,

The moon’s soft kiss makes his forehead glow.

In shadows deep, his mother weeps,

Wiping hidden tears, her vigil keeps.

Each tear a testament to sorrow and strife,

In silence, they endure the hardships of life.

(Author-translated from a poem by Birendra Chattopadhyay)

These poignant verses capture the daily struggle and suppleness etched into the fabric of our cities. Amidst debates about regulation and urban planning, let us not forget the humanity and dignity these vendors uphold; their presence is a testament to the spirit of survival and solidarity that defines our urban tapestry. Theirs is a story of perseverance, where every sale echoes a quiet triumph over adversity and every transaction speaks to a deeper narrative of community and pliability

(The writer is on the faculty of the Department of Statistics, Basanti Devi College, Kolkata)