Ice cream man: Melted dreams of young men
Vendors live in cramped spaces, feel hemmed in by limited options.
ISLAMABAD:
It’s almost midnight and the capital seems to be taken over by legions of icecream vendors as they whizz past on their bikes. They are mostly teenagers, as they are going home after a long day of selling residents icy cold treats.
However, home for them is more of a commune. Imran, 17, a matriculate from Bahawalpur came to the city after his father passed away four years ago. His elder brother, Adnan urged him to join the profession in the hope that they could make more money together to send to their mother and three sisters.
Recently, Adnan left the job and the city to return home to Bahawalpur. Imran stayed back bunking in a 20-by-22 room with 15 other icecream vendors. The icecream company provides the bicycles and the merchandise as well as the room.
“We are a community within ourselves, which is good as I feel like I have emotional support; but it’s very hard living in such a cramped space with 15 other boys,” said Imran. Some of them have mattresses, while others sleep on the floor. They share a single bathroom and no kitchen.
The room is located in E-11 on top of the garage where the bicycles are parked. Most of Imran’s roommates are from Bahawalpur as well and are teenagers like him: the oldest of the group is 22.
Shahid, who bunks with Imran, said, “It is very strenuous to ride the bicycle all day long in the sun, that’s why the company only hires able-bodied young men.”
The group also shared that summer is “very unkind” to them as they get dehydrated in the heat, especially given that their busiest hours are from noon to early evening when the sun is at its peak. “Schoolchildren come home around 3pm and that’s the best time to sell icecream,” said Imran.
As each vender is assigned different sectors, everyone makes different amounts on average. Imran is in-charge of G-11/1 and G-11/2, and says he makes about Rs300 a day after subtracting food expenses. However, Shahid makes about Rs400 a day, thanks to a school in the vicinity.
The money made by these vendors earn is no more than what a labourer earns in a day, but they feel this line of work offers security of a daily income. They try to save whatever they earn and send about Rs2000 to Rs3000 back home every month.
“A year back we had to pay Rs100 daily to our boss for the bike’s security but now we don’t have to. I think they changed the rule after the new labour laws were ratified,” said Imran. Though most are matriculates, none of the vendors were sure what their constitutional rights as workers were.
These young men have very limited options to earn a living for themselves and their families. The only opportunities available are labour-intensive in which there is little scope for exercising the intellect, wasting the potential of individuals who are both intelligent and resourceful.
Unfortunately, these men are a dime a dozen and feature amongst the thousands whose dreams and promises remain unfulfilled in the city.
Published in The Express Tribune, June 2nd, 2012.
It’s almost midnight and the capital seems to be taken over by legions of icecream vendors as they whizz past on their bikes. They are mostly teenagers, as they are going home after a long day of selling residents icy cold treats.
However, home for them is more of a commune. Imran, 17, a matriculate from Bahawalpur came to the city after his father passed away four years ago. His elder brother, Adnan urged him to join the profession in the hope that they could make more money together to send to their mother and three sisters.
Recently, Adnan left the job and the city to return home to Bahawalpur. Imran stayed back bunking in a 20-by-22 room with 15 other icecream vendors. The icecream company provides the bicycles and the merchandise as well as the room.
“We are a community within ourselves, which is good as I feel like I have emotional support; but it’s very hard living in such a cramped space with 15 other boys,” said Imran. Some of them have mattresses, while others sleep on the floor. They share a single bathroom and no kitchen.
The room is located in E-11 on top of the garage where the bicycles are parked. Most of Imran’s roommates are from Bahawalpur as well and are teenagers like him: the oldest of the group is 22.
Shahid, who bunks with Imran, said, “It is very strenuous to ride the bicycle all day long in the sun, that’s why the company only hires able-bodied young men.”
The group also shared that summer is “very unkind” to them as they get dehydrated in the heat, especially given that their busiest hours are from noon to early evening when the sun is at its peak. “Schoolchildren come home around 3pm and that’s the best time to sell icecream,” said Imran.
As each vender is assigned different sectors, everyone makes different amounts on average. Imran is in-charge of G-11/1 and G-11/2, and says he makes about Rs300 a day after subtracting food expenses. However, Shahid makes about Rs400 a day, thanks to a school in the vicinity.
The money made by these vendors earn is no more than what a labourer earns in a day, but they feel this line of work offers security of a daily income. They try to save whatever they earn and send about Rs2000 to Rs3000 back home every month.
“A year back we had to pay Rs100 daily to our boss for the bike’s security but now we don’t have to. I think they changed the rule after the new labour laws were ratified,” said Imran. Though most are matriculates, none of the vendors were sure what their constitutional rights as workers were.
These young men have very limited options to earn a living for themselves and their families. The only opportunities available are labour-intensive in which there is little scope for exercising the intellect, wasting the potential of individuals who are both intelligent and resourceful.
Unfortunately, these men are a dime a dozen and feature amongst the thousands whose dreams and promises remain unfulfilled in the city.
Published in The Express Tribune, June 2nd, 2012.