'Where will we go?': For Mitford's Harijan families, eviction means more than losing a home
The Harijan families have called Mitford’s Sweeper Colony home for nearly 168 years. Now, authorities plan to demolish the colony and construct new facilities on the site to expand treatment services
Nine-year-old Ambika loves her home at Mitford's sweeper colony. She and her friends walk to school together, then fill the small courtyard with laughter and games. But their joy has faded. They have heard that their homes may soon be demolished. The adults avoid discussing it, but the children know something is wrong.
Ambika does not know where they will go if their homes are destroyed. Neither do her friends. They may not understand "eviction", but they know the place where they were born and grew up may soon disappear.
Uncertainty has robbed residents of the sweeper colony at Sir Salimullah Medical College Mitford Hospital of sleep. Authorities have recently issued an eviction notice to families who have lived there for nearly 168 years.
For generations, the hospital grounds have been their only home, holding the memories, labour and struggles of their ancestors. Now, they face an uncertain future.
Keeping Mitford clean for centuries
One of the old buildings at Mitford Hospital is commonly known as the "Sweeper Colony" or "Minyards Quarter". The names reflect a history dating back to the 19th century.
When medical services in Dhaka were limited, Robert Mitford, then collector of Dhaka, took the initiative to establish a hospital on the bank of the Buriganga River. Before his death, he left part of his property to fund it. After a long process, Mitford Hospital officially opened on 1 May 1858 as the first modern general hospital in what was then East Bengal.
From the beginning, members of the Harijan community were responsible for cleaning the hospital. During British rule, workers were brought from different parts of India to remove waste, clean drains and maintain the hospital and its surroundings. They eventually settled on the hospital grounds, and generations continued working in sanitation. This is how the settlement came to be known as the "Sweeper Colony".
Today, the two-storey, L-shaped building, with its red-brick walls, narrow stairways and small courtyard, is one of the reminders of old Dhaka. Around 200 people live in its 60 rooms, according to resident Rinku Sharma. About half are members of the Harijan community.
A recent notice from the hospital authorities ordered all residents to leave by 30 August, leaving them deeply uncertain about their future.
Rinku said 31 residents currently work as hospital cleaners, including seven members of the Harijan community. Another eight Harijan residents are retired hospital employees.
He believes the community faces a deeper crisis because of longstanding discrimination and social marginalisation. Many still struggle to secure housing outside the colony. They are therefore demanding proper rehabilitation before being evicted from the place that has been their home for generations.
'These rooms are our birthplace'
Malarani Sharma, around 65, has spent her entire life in the building where four or five generations of her family were born and died. She once worked at Mitford Hospital and is now retired. Her father and uncles also devoted their lives to cleaning the hospital, following generations before them.
During British rule, her ancestors left India and came to Dhaka for sanitation work. The quarters provided by the hospital became their home, and generations of the family have lived there ever since.
"I am now 65, and my brother is 70. We were born here. Now they have suddenly handed us an eviction notice. What are we supposed to do? Are we supposed to live on the streets? These rooms are our birthplace. We have lived here for 168 years. How can they suddenly force us onto the streets?" Malarani said, her eyes filling with tears.
She said residents have lived in fear since receiving the notice last month. Signed by Mitford Hospital Deputy Director Dr Muhammad Habibur Rahman, it orders residents to leave Minyards Quarter by 30 August. It also says the colony's water, electricity and gas connections will be cut off that day.
An uncertain future awaits
For generations, Harijan families have shared births, deaths, weddings, festivals and grief on this small piece of land—the only place they could truly call home. Long marginalised by mainstream society, they now fear that losing it could leave them with nowhere to go.
Babu Lal, a colony resident, said finding another home would be difficult because landlords often discriminate against them because of their community identity.
"Even when someone from our community tries to find a home, they face problems. Suppose we like a house. As soon as the landlord learns that we are from the colony, they make excuses and refuse to rent it to us," he said.
Harijan residents say they continue to face social neglect and discrimination. They allege that some hotels and restaurants do not allow them to eat inside, while their identity can also create barriers when they try to run businesses.
As a result, even in Dhaka, leaving the close-knit colony and finding separate housing remains extremely difficult. For many, their identity itself becomes an obstacle to finding a new home.
"I am now 65, and my brother is 70. We were born here. Now they have suddenly handed us an eviction notice. What are we supposed to do? Are we supposed to live on the streets? These rooms are our birthplace. We have lived here for 168 years. How can they suddenly force us onto the streets?"
The housing crisis is closely linked to the education of the colony's younger generation. 41 children and teenagers from Harijan and Muslim families attend nearby schools, with their education and daily routines centred around the area. Rinku Sharma said their studies would face serious uncertainty if they were evicted without rehabilitation.
Ambika, a third-grade student at Chhota Katra Government Primary School, dreams of becoming a doctor. But the eviction threat has left her worried.
"I like the colony because we can all live together. I feel sad after hearing the news. I cannot concentrate on my studies," she said.
Rajbir Balmiki, 16, recently sat for his secondary school examinations at Ahmed Bawany Academy School and College. He now plans to enrol in college and is considering nearby Kabi Nazrul Government College or Suhrawardy College. But uncertainty over the colony has made him anxious about his future.
"It is time for me to enroll in college. But in this situation, I do not know what to do or where I will live. I hope the government will arrange proper rehabilitation so that we can continue our education," he said.
Will they be rehabilitated?
The hospital authorities have a different position on the residents' demand for rehabilitation. Dr Muhammad Habibur Rahman, deputy director of Mitford Hospital, said the current generation cannot claim the right to live in government quarters simply because their ancestors once worked there.
"Those who worked here 30, 40 or 50 years ago—and those who retired 10 or 15 years ago—now have their children and grandchildren living here. This cannot continue inside a government institution. An employee may live in the quarters while in service. But how can families whose members retired years ago claim the right to live here generation after generation?" he said.
He said Harijan community leaders had met hospital authorities several times and submitted memorandums seeking rehabilitation. However, he said there was no space to accommodate them on the hospital grounds.
"There is a post office here, which is an important government office, but I cannot even provide space for it. I do not have enough space for my patients," he said.
The hospital authorities said the old building would be demolished and new facilities constructed on the site to expand treatment services. Dr Habibur Rahman said the tender process had already been completed.
"Which is more important—allowing them to continue living here or ensuring treatment for a critically ill patient? What does common sense tell you?" he said.
He declined to clearly explain what would happen if residents failed to leave by 30 August, saying the authorities would act according to the notice.
He also alleged that some groups were deliberately turning the eviction into a larger issue to embarrass the government.
The end of a 'generational job'
In the past, cleaning jobs at Mitford Hospital were passed down through generations of the Harijan community living in the colony. One generation after another joined the same profession. Over time, however, that practice ended.
Manju Rani Das worked as a cleaner at Mitford Hospital for 26 years. After she retired, the hospital authorities did not offer her job to anyone in her family. Now, after receiving the eviction notice, she has one question: after losing their employment opportunities, will they also lose the last place they can call home?
"They no longer give a parent's job to their children. In the past, people hated us, but now they have also taken away our jobs. So how will we survive?" she said.
Manju Rani said she is not asking for much. She wants the authorities to provide them with a simple home somewhere—even one made of jute sticks—so they have a roof over their heads. Otherwise, she fears her family will be forced onto the streets.
The hospital's notice states that residents will be responsible for any situation, damage or loss if they fail to leave by the deadline.
Their ancestors were brought from India because the government needed their labour. Will their descendants now lose their birthplace once again?
Article 28(4) of the Constitution allows the state to make special provisions for disadvantaged citizens. Will it ensure safe rehabilitation and alternative housing for this community—or will they be evicted without a workable alternative?
For now, only time will tell.
Where does this suffering end?
The community that helps keep Bangladesh's cities clean every day continues to face social discrimination, insecure housing and unequal wages despite generations of work in sanitation and other essential services.
According to Kiran Chandra Bansfor, senior vice-president of the Bangladesh Harijan Students Unity Council and founder of Harijan Sarakkhan, the community faces three major challenges: caste-based discrimination, insecure housing and workplace discrimination.
Some sections of society still consider Harijan people to be socially inferior. They may face discrimination even when trying to eat at restaurants or get haircuts at salons, while many people still hesitate to interact with them normally.
Kiran said housing is among their most serious problems. Most Harijan communities live in colonies on government-owned land, many of which are decades or even centuries old. But eviction notices for development projects can suddenly destroy their sense of security.
Most families have neither alternative housing nor enough savings to buy land and build homes. Their low incomes from cleaning work are barely enough to support their families.
"They have no financial backup. Their small income is barely enough to support their families. Buying land and building a home is like an impossible dream for them," Kiran said.
He said discrimination also prevents many from entering professions outside sanitation. Those who open food shops or drive rickshaws may face social rejection, keeping many trapped in the same occupation.
Kiran believes government action is essential. Permanent housing, fair wages and better opportunities in education and employment could give the next generation a more secure future.
