The coronavirus pandemic and the omicron waves have put frontline sanitary workers, mainly those working in public toilets in the Kathmandu Valley, under increased public gaze. This write-up aims to bring to the fore a typical workday of these workers tasked with both sanitary and managerial roles through a brief conversation with two workers stationed at a public loo.
Sanitary staff of public loos, especially of those located at nerve centers like Ratnapark, are early birds. A typical workday starts at around 5 am and ends tentatively at 9 pm, says Rabin KC. The first of the users arrive quite early, but they are few and far between. The users may be cleaners of public buses, owners of tea stalls, drivers, etc.
The first round of cleaning is over by 7 am, says KC. As for the use of personal protective equipment (PPE), KC says: There’s no question of doing the cleaning work without putting on safety gear like gloves, boots and mask.
Apart from the public toilet at Ratnapark, his work stations include addresses like Pokhara Dohori Saanjh, Fewa Dohori Saanjh, Ebizza and Fire (all located in Thamel), not to mention hospitals where sanitary workers have to put on heavy overalls equipped with boots and gloves while at work, running a sweat all along.
Do the workers have to buy those safety gears or do the contractors provide them?
KC says the contractors provide the gears. That’s some relief for these workers, especially in trying times like the current pandemic.
Asked about the behavior of users of the loo at Ratnapark, KC turns a bit critical.
Out of 100 users, 15 to 20 don’t clean up after their acts—they don’t pour water even when they are done, causing inconvenience to others streaming in—observes KC.
Rajan Deula, stationed at the same loo, joins in: Out of every 10 users, only 2-3 people clean the fecal matter with water. What does this reveal about our health and hygiene standards?
By the way, this is not for want of water, he adds: The nearby well has dried up, so we buy tanker water to keep the public loo clean.
The public loo with hot water facilities for bathing used to pull crowds. With hot water no longer available, the crowd has thinned. Nowadays, a handful of cleaners and drivers come for bathing once a week or so, per Deula.
Back to the user behavior. Despite our constant encouragement to pour water before and after use, the users pay no heed, KC laments, referring to the 15-20 percent bracket.
That’s not the end of problematic behavior at the public loos, though.
About 20 percent of users still spit paan, other tobacco products and throw cigarette butts. Out of every 100 or so users, five to 10 come smoking, says Deula.
In the past, some women users used to dispose of sanitary pads inside the toilet and not in the bin, according to KC. Such incidents used to cause blockages necessitating major repairs, each costing up to Rs 4,000, per KC. Such acts are rare these days, much to the relief of sanitary staff and users alike.
Differently-abled people, staff of the Kathmandu Metropolitan City (KMC) and personnel from the Nepal Army and the Nepal Police, including the Traffic Police, get services for free, according to KC and Deula.
Some users try to slip out without paying, says KC. This happens when traffic is heavy, on occasions like protests and big festivals.
That means more revenue than on normal days? Not necessarily. KC offers an interesting insight.
At such times, 15-20 percent users leave without paying, KC offers a rough estimate. The lack of CCTV cameras has only helped those slippery creatures by offering an easy escape. When sought money for using the loo, some people falsely identify themselves as metropolitan staff, security personnel and refuse to pay, Deula points out.
Average daily income? Deula says it is well within the range of Rs 2,000-2,500.
Despite the public health challenges that seem to be growing even in post-pandemic situations, Deula says with confidence, KC firmly by his side: There’s no problem in operating the public toilet by maintaining the standards of safety.
Their confidence notwithstanding, it is necessary to conduct regular training for sanitary staff in view of emerging health challenges where our public toilets can easily become epicenters of diseases. However, it’s not only frontline sanitary staff who need training.
Drawing from the experiences of Deula and KC, it can be said that toilet training for users is absolutely necessary, regardless of their age and gender, to improve the condition of public toilets, apart from provisions for punitive action against errant behavior.
Asked about the role of government entities in improving the condition of public toilets, Deula shoots, point-blank: The KMC collects land rent, it doesn’t do much else.
Hopefully, toilet training for users and government entities (with the main focus on effective ways to run these infrastructure so critical to public health and well-being) will enable sanitary staff like KC and Deula to feel a bit less sad and tired when they leave for home from work at the end of a typically long and hard workday.
