AMITABH
"The political parties want our votes, and then forget about us once the elections are over," states her neighbour, a 60-year-old man, adding, "But voting is our right. So we must do it." The other residents of Anandvan nod in unison, pointing out that no one accepts transport arrangements to the polling booths offered by political parties on election day.
The colony, which came up in the early fifties, is largely self-supported and aware of its rights. "Most of us can read," notes the woman, an active member of the colony's self-help group. Many of the residents are severely disabled due to delay in treatment and cannot work. Take her neighbour, for instance. "My wife is also a leprosy patient. And unlike the others, we don't have children to take care of us. So we have no choice but to beg for alms," he says.
There is, however, the Sanjay Gandhi Niradhar Yojana, which promises a sum of Rs 300 for people like him who can't support themselves. But there is a downside to it, as well. "The last time I got it was in October," he reveals.
A seventy-something man at the government-run Bandorwala leprosy hospital in Kondhwa airs a similar grievance about the Yojana. "Since I have been here, the money has stopped coming. And I have no family to take care of me," he says.
Among the 158 other inmates of the hospital is a 45-year-old from a village in Kolhapur, who feels that things would be better if the leprosy affected people were to unite and press for their demands. "It's not that the government hasn't done things for us. We get money and free treatment," he says.
Another patient, a former sugar factory worker, wants the government to undertake a complete socio-economic rehabilitation of the leprosy affected living in government hospitals. "Our families don't want us back. Those of us who do have a stake in family landholdings in our villages are not allowed to work on them," he says.
An elderly patient from Solapur adds: "The sarpanch of my village
The colony, which came up in the early fifties, is largely self-supported and aware of its rights. "Most of us can read," notes the woman, an active member of the colony's self-help group. Many of the residents are severely disabled due to delay in treatment and cannot work. Take her neighbour, for instance. "My wife is also a leprosy patient. And unlike the others, we don't have children to take care of us. So we have no choice but to beg for alms," he says.
There is, however, the Sanjay Gandhi Niradhar Yojana, which promises a sum of Rs 300 for people like him who can't support themselves. But there is a downside to it, as well. "The last time I got it was in October," he reveals.
A seventy-something man at the government-run Bandorwala leprosy hospital in Kondhwa airs a similar grievance about the Yojana. "Since I have been here, the money has stopped coming. And I have no family to take care of me," he says.
Among the 158 other inmates of the hospital is a 45-year-old from a village in Kolhapur, who feels that things would be better if the leprosy affected people were to unite and press for their demands. "It's not that the government hasn't done things for us. We get money and free treatment," he says.
Another patient, a former sugar factory worker, wants the government to undertake a complete socio-economic rehabilitation of the leprosy affected living in government hospitals. "Our families don't want us back. Those of us who do have a stake in family landholdings in our villages are not allowed to work on them," he says.
An elderly patient from Solapur adds: "The sarpanch of my village