April 2026 A Sanitation Worker’s Journey of Resilience and Responsibility Kaji Man Kusuwa

My work mainly involves cleaning septic tanks, handling waste, and maintaining hygiene in homes and public spaces. This work is not easy. It is demanding, risky, and often invisible. Yet, it has been my way of providing for my family and giving my children a better future. Over the years, I have faced financial struggles, physical danger, and social stigma but I continue this work with dedication and pride.

A Lifelong Commitment

 I started manual septic tank cleaning work about 10 years ago due to a lack of employment opportunities and slowly gained experience. Years of saving and sacrifice allowed me to take a bold step and buy a desludging vehicle, for which I even took a loan, using my village land as collateral. That vehicle changed my life: It made septic tank cleaning easier. It increased efficiency. It gave me hope. But, just a few months later, everything changed again: The municipality seized my vehicle, falsely accusing me of dumping waste into the river, and warned me that if I used the vehicle again, it would be permanently confiscated. That moment broke me.

I had no choice but to sell the vehicle at a much lower price. It was not just a vehicle I lost, it was years of savings, sacrifice, and my family’s hope of building a more stable life and a better future. Losing it felt like everything we had worked for suddenly collapsed.

 

The Daily Struggles

Sanitation work is physically exhausting and often dangerous. We enter septic tanks. We handle toxic waste. We work in narrow, suffocating spaces. Sometimes septic tanks are poorly built, overloaded, or filled with solid waste and non-biodegradable materials, which makes cleaning much harder and often requires repeated work, increasing our physical burden. When septic tank jobs are not available, I take other sanitation work, such as cleaning waste at party venues. Our income is irregular. On average, I earn around NPR 20,000 per month (135 USD). My wife earns about NPR 16,000 per month (108 USD) working at party venues. Together, we support our two children, my 11-year-old son, who has difficulty speaking properly, and my 5-year-old daughter. Every day we work not just for money, but for their dreams.

 

Health and Safety

For most of my career, I worked without proper personal protective equipment (PPE). I used plastic covers instead of helmets. I avoided gloves because they felt uncomfortable. I worked without masks and did not know how much risk we were taking.

After receiving training from organizations, my understanding changed: It showed me that protection is not weakness, it is survival. I began using basic PPE, but complete and consistent PPE is still not provided to many workers. We remain exposed to serious health hazards. Training, awareness, and regular equipment can save lives.

Years of sanitation work have affected my health. After my vehicle was seized, my work conditions became harder and I considered migrating to Saudi Arabia, but during medical tests, my blood reports and respiratory health did not meet the standards to get the visa. Even after six months of treatment and injections, I still experience coughing, fever, and respiratory issues. Yet, I continue working. Because my family depends on me.

There were moments when I almost fell deep inside a tank. I survived only because I held onto something nearby. Those moments remind me how close sanitation workers come to serious accidents, even though most people never see these risks.

We protect society’s health every day. We deserve protection of our health in return.

 

Social Acceptance and Respect

Often, even when we follow all traffic rules and regulations, we are stopped for hours. Traffic police sometimes stop our vehicles simply because they see septic tankers, causing delays and financial loss. At times, even after completing the work, homeowners make us wait for long periods before paying or ask us to do extra work without proper compensation. We are not asking for privilege. We are asking for respect. If authorities recognize our challenges, sanitation work can become safer and more organized.

 

We also often face stigma. Some households refuse to pay us. Some throw money at us instead of handing it respectfully. Some do not offer even water. This deeply affects our dignity. But there are also people who treat us with respect and that gives us strength. Despite everything, I am proud of my work. It is honest labour. It keeps communities clean and protects public health. Without sanitation workers, cities cannot function. I hope society begins to see this clearly.

 

A Final Hope

After attending a leadership training organized by ENPHO and WaterAid Nepal, I gave my first interview to the media. Speaking about my life and the struggles of sanitation workers made me feel proud and empowered. For the first time, I felt that my voice could represent not only my own story, but also the many workers who remain unheard.

 

I want to say, sanitation work is not just employment. It is responsibility. It is resilience. It is survival. I have spent most of my life in this field. It has tested me physically and emotionally. But it has also made me strong. We work quietly. We work in the shadows. But our impact is visible in every clean home and every healthy community. All we ask for is dignity, safety, and fairness. We need:

-          Respect from institutions.

-          Social security protection.

-          Health insurance and regular medical checkups.

-          Proper PPE, tools and occupational health support and training.

-          Designated land for waste disposal.

-          Clear systems for transporting waste without harassment and cooperation from traffic authorities.

 

Compiled by: Preeti Mittal and Seema Rajouria (WaterAid Nepal) and Srijana Karki (ENPHO)