In the vast and intricate public service delivery landscape of India, an army of underpaid and unrecognized workers sustains the foundational pillars of health, nutrition, and education. Accredited Social Health Activists (ASHAs), Anganwadi workers, mid-day meal cook-cum-helpers etcetera form the backbone of essential government schemes that reach millions of Indians, particularly in rural and marginalized communities.
Yet, these workers ~ overwhelmingly women, many from Dalit, Adivasi, and other vulnerable backgrounds ~ continue to suffer systemic neglect, facing precarious working conditions, inadequate compensation, and a fundamental lack of recognition for their labour. Their plight is not merely a matter of economic injustice but one deeply intertwined with the caste-patriarchal structures that define India’s labour market. Recognizing them as formal workers with full labour rights is not just a policy imperative but a moral necessity, one that requires strong political will and a reimagining of the value of care work in our society. ASHAs, introduced under the National Rural Health Mission (NRHM) in 2005, are the first point of contact between the rural populace and the public health system. Their responsibilities include maternal and child health support, immunization drives, tuberculosis and malaria control, and even, as seen during the Covid-19 pandemic, frontline health surveillance and contact tracing.
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Despite being celebrated as the “foot soldiers of health,” ASHAs remain classified as voluntary workers, receiving a performance-based honorarium rather than a fixed salary. On average, their monthly earnings range between Rs 2,000 and Rs 5,000 ~ far below the legal minimum wage in most states. The Indian government increased their incentives in 2018 and again during the pandemic, but these marginal raises have done little to rectify their fundamental lack of employment security, social benefits, and fair compensation. Anganwadi workers, part of the Integrated Child Development Services (ICDS) launched in 1975, have an equally crucial role in early childhood nutrition, education, and maternal care.
An Anganwadi worker is responsible for providing supplementary nutrition, preschool education, and basic healthcare services to children under six, as well as to pregnant and lactating mothers. In 2022, an Anganwadi worker earned around Rs 7,500 per month, while Anganwadi helpers received approximately Rs 4,500, with minor variations across states. These amounts, wholly inadequate given the rising cost of living, reflect the state’s continued unwillingness to formally acknowledge their labour. The reluctan – ce to recognize them as full-time workers enables the state to evade its responsibilities regarding job security, pension, and health benefits, forcing these workers into a cycle of poverty despite their indispensable public service contributions.
The mid-day meal scheme has been instrumental in improving school attendance and child nutrition across India. Yet, the 2.5 million workers who cook and serve these meals ~ mostly women ~ remain among the lowest-paid, earning a meager Rs 1,000 to Rs 1,500 per month. Many of them are Dalit women who not only endure economic exploitation but also caste discrimination, with reports from several states of upper-caste parents refusing to let their children eat food prepared by Dalit cooks. This intersection of caste and gender oppression deepens marginalization, making the struggle for dignity and fair wages even more urgent. The Covid-19 pandemic exposed the deep exploitation these workers endure. ASHAs led door-to-door surveys, contact tracing, and vaccine awareness drives, while Anganwadi workers ensured food distribution and health monitoring despite centre closures.
Mid-day meal workers adapted by preparing and delivering rations to students’ homes. Their workload surged, yet instead of hazard pay or better benefits, many faced months of unpaid wages, inadequate protective gear, and severe health risks. Countless ASHAs, Anganwadi workers, and mid-day meal cooks succumbed to the virus, with their families receiving little to no compensation. Their sacrifices were praised in speeches but ignored in policy. The core of this exploitation lies in the state’s refusal to legally recognize scheme workers as “workers.” By labeling them as volunteers, the government evades its responsibility to provide minimum wages, job security, pensions, and health benefits.
This is not bureaucratic oversight but a deliberate strategy to sustain an informal, low-cost workforce for essential public services. The undervaluation of their labour is deeply gendered, rooted in the notion that care work is merely an extension of women’s unpaid domestic duties. There is no economic justification for this injustice. Oxfam India estimates that unpaid and underpaid care work contributes Rs 19 trillion annually to the economy ~ an invisible subsidy extracted from women. A study by the Centre for Budget and Governance Accountability (CBGA) found that raising ASHA and Anganwadi salaries to Rs 21,000 per month would cost just 0.2 per cent of India’s GDP, a fraction of the concessions granted to corporations or rising defense expenditures.
The issue is not financial feasibility but political will. Over the past decade, these workers have staged numerous protests, strikes, and marches demanding better wages and recognition. The ASHA workers in Kerala are on a massive protest over the last one month and they have started an indefinite hunger strike as well. Few years ago, nearly one crore scheme workers participated in a nationwide strike, and in November 2022, thousands gathered at Delhi’s Jantar Mantar under the banner of the ‘Rights and Respect Mahadharna.’ State governments, in response, have made some piecemeal revisions, such as Telangana increasing ASHA salaries and Tamil Nadu announcing a pension scheme for retired Anganwadi workers.
However, these fragmented efforts fall short of addressing the core demand: full worker status and parity with other employees performing comparable duties. A comprehensive reform approach must begin with legal recognition of scheme workers as employees under the Minimum Wages Act and relevant labour laws at the Centre and in states. Their wages must be standardized at a living wage level, indexed to inflation. Social security benefits, including provident fund contributions, pension schemes, and healthcare coverage, should be mandated. Additionally, their working conditions require improvement, from timely wage payments to protection against workplace harassment. Training and capacitybuilding programs must be institutionalized to enhance their skills and career progression opportunities. Equally important is the broader societal recognition of their work. The prevailing attitudes that treat care work as low-value labour must be challenged through policy discourse and public awareness initiatives. The state must acknowledge that the efficient functioning of health and welfare schemes depends on these workers, and their rights and dignity cannot be compromised in the name of fiscal prudence or bureaucratic inertia.
The plight of ASHAs, Anganwadi workers, and mid-day meal cooks is emblematic of a larger crisis in India’s labour landscape, where informal and feminized workforces remain perennially undervalued. Their demand for fair wages and worker rights is not merely a financial consideration but a question of justice and equality. For a country aspiring to be a global economic powerhouse, the continued exploitation of its frontline workers stands as a glaring contradiction. A truly progressive nation must begin by ensuring dignity, respect, and just compensation for those who form the foundation of its public welfare system. The time for incremental changes has passed; what is required now is a resolute political commitment to recognizing and uplifting India’s invisible workforce.
(The writer is a policy analyst, columnist, and author of The Essential)