By Lyzander E Sohkhlet
Laitumkhrah, a once-thriving hub of community and commerce, is now in a dire state of disarray due to the unchecked presence of street hawkers. While this issue seems to affect all walks of life, it is the middle class that bears the brunt of the chaos. The lower classes have mastered the art of leveraging sympathy to justify their actions, and the upper classes remain largely unscathed, detached from the struggles of daily street-level conflicts. The middle class, however, is stuck in the crossfire—silently suffering the consequences. This plight is especially visible in Police Point, where hawkers selling local food items have taken over the area. Ironically, the same street is home to four established eateries, owned and operated by middle-class entrepreneurs. These businesses, which pay steep rents in an era of unprecedented inflation, are struggling to stay afloat as their revenues drop by a staggering 45%. How can these eateries compete when hawkers blatantly set up shop right in front of their doors, undercutting their prices while leaving behind filth for the shop owners to clean up?
Students are another group struggling under the weight of this encroachment. Every morning, they navigate a gauntlet of obstructions on the footpaths, forcing them to walk on the already congested roads. This dangerous situation recently culminated in a tragic incident when a young girl was struck by a car while walking in the middle of the road near Nazareth Hospital. The footpaths, occupied by hawkers, left her with no safe alternative. Thankfully, her injuries were not severe, but it begs the question: if she had been critically hurt, who would bear the responsibility? Would the associations that so vehemently defend the hawkers step up to take accountability, or would they continue to justify the chaos caused by their actions?
The situation near Nazareth Hospital adds another layer of absurdity. This area has been officially declared a no-vending zone, but the hawkers continue to defy the rules with impunity. The authorities, tasked with maintaining order, seem powerless against a resistance emboldened by misguided intellectuals who defend such blatant disregard for the law. Meanwhile, ambulances struggle to navigate the cluttered lane, and shop owners watch helplessly as their livelihoods are eroded.
We often hear the argument that hawkers “greatly influence” the economy, but how many pause to consider the middle-class businesses they directly affect? Attached to this article are a series of photographs showing the real picture: eateries surrounded by hawkers, litter-filled footpaths, and the overcrowded streets that have become synonymous with the area. These images tell the story of hundreds of legitimate businesses—each employing numerous individuals and supporting families—struggling to survive amidst this chaos. Are these businesses, which provide stable jobs and contribute significantly to the local economy, any less important? Why is their plight so often overlooked?
This is not just a question of space but of fairness and responsibility. The middle-class business owners, who have invested their savings and energy into creating legitimate establishments, are drowning in a sea of injustice. They must contend with skyrocketing rents, diminishing revenue, and the audacity of unregulated vendors who threaten their very existence.
The Street Vendors (Protection of Livelihood and Regulation of Street Vending) Act, 2014, a cornerstone legislation for regulating street vending in India, empowers local authorities to designate no-vending zones. These zones are crucial in areas like hospitals, schools, and emergency corridors, where unimpeded access and sanitation are non-negotiable. The lane in front of Nazareth Hospital is a no-vending zone, established to ensure ambulances, patients, and hospital staff can move without hindrance. Yet, hawkers persist, occupying the footpaths and spilling onto the road, turning the area into an impassable mess. This defiance doesn’t stop at blocking access. Hospitals are legally protected under the Noise Pollution (Regulation and Control) Rules, 2000, which designate them as “silent zones.” Within 100 meters of such premises, activities that generate excessive noise or gather large crowds are strictly prohibited. The hawkers near Nazareth Hospital, however, pay no heed, adding to the cacophony of an already chaotic street. Their presence disrupts the sanctity that patients and medical professionals rely upon. The situation worsens when one considers hygiene. Municipal laws require vendors to maintain cleanliness, but the reality in Laitumkhrah is far from this ideal. The hawkers leave behind heaps of litter—food waste, packaging, and other debris—that nearby shop owners and pedestrians are forced to deal with. This is especially troubling near a hospital, where sanitation is critical for patient care and recovery. Laitumkhrah is crying out for order. The law must prevail—not just for the sake of businesses but for the safety of everyone who uses these streets. If hawkers are allowed to continue unchecked, with no regard for regulations or the rights of others, the consequences will only grow worse. It’s time for the authorities to act decisively, ensuring that the streets of Laitumkhrah belong to everyone, not just to those who refuse to follow the rules. The situation needs a solution—one that is grounded in fairness and enforcement. If the authorities fail to act, the middle class, the backbone of this community, will continue to suffer in silence. And when they are forced out, who will fill the void?