Child labour used in cosmetics industry

Nicola Smith
Published: 19 July 2009
Sunday Times

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Deep in the jungle of Jharkhand state in eastern India, at the end of a rutted track passable
only by motorbike, a six-year-old girl named Sonia sat in the scorching midday sun, sifting
jagged stones in an open-cast mine in the hope of earning enough money for a meal.
Sonia was halfway through her working day and she was already exhausted and dishevelled.
Her hair was matted and her pretty flower-patterned dress spoilt by dust.
She barely had enough energy to glance at her eight-year-old cousin Guri, toiling intently
beside her as they searched the stones for pieces of mica, a shiny material whose many uses
include putting the sparkle into make-up.
If the girls spotted enough mica, they might earn 63p each for a 12-hour day. If they found
none, they would probably go hungry.
The contrast between this ugly scene of exploitation, hidden from view in a forest teeming
with Maoist guerrillas where few westerners dare to venture, and the glamour of the
cosmetics industry could hardly be more glaring.
India's exports of mica are used to make paints and electronic goods as well as glossy lipstick
and eyeshadow. Campaigners against child labour believe cosmetics manufacturers sensitive
to the views of consumers could do most to bring about reform.
"It is most disturbing that six-year-old girls are involved in mines to beautify ladies all over
the world," said Bhuwan Ribhu, from the child rights group Bachpan Bachao Andolan
(BBA). "More action needs to be taken by cosmetics companies, consumers and
governments."
It was this organisation, accompanied by The Sunday Times, that found Sonia with at least 15
other children scrabbling in the dirt of one of the forgotten corners of India, about 700 miles
east of the capital, New Delhi.
They were by no means the only ones hard at work in the mine while their more fortunate
contemporaries laboured over English and maths books in the few local schools.
Sita Dave, an impoverished mother, was there with her five sons, aged seven to 15, all
dressed in school uniforms but sifting stones like the rest.
"If we each earn 50 rupees (63p) in a day then we eat," she said simply. "Sometimes we
don't."

Within a few hours, two other groups of small children were found working in separate
places. Santu, 12, said he was earning money because he had no mother and his father was
suffering from tuberculosis.
"I used to go to school and I learned how to write my name in English and some maths," he
said. "Now I just collect mica with groups of children. We work in a 5ft to 10ft hole, and
loose earth falls down all the time. Last year one girl was buried."
It is legal to work from the age of 14 in India but in hazardous occupations, including mining,
the limit is 18. The BBA, which runs education projects in Jharkhand, estimates tens of
thousands of local children may be working in mica mines.
The trail from the Jharkhand jungle, where much of the mining is illicit, to the make-up
shelves of western shops stocked by reputable manufacturers, is tortuous.
Labourers sell to agents, who bribe the police to overlook the illegality of the operation and
risk being thrown into jail if they refuse to pay.
They sell mica to exporters in the nearest towns where the involvement of children is known
at least to some.
G F Pachisia, the owner of Pachisia and Co, one of the oldest mica traders, said: "Families,
also children, collect \. I can't say how old they are. I only know that whole families are
working there."
Pachisia's mica goes to the Far East, America and Europe, in particular to Germany.
One German buyer, Mahlwerk Neubauer-Friedrich Geffers GmbH, acknowledged the
problem of child labour but claimed that "children work playfully in a family setting". The
company said it supported two local schools.
Some of the mica goes on to Merck KGaA, the German-based pharmaceuticals and chemicals
giant, whose products are used to create gold, bronze and pearl effects in make-up.
Merck confirmed it was aware that children were collecting mica in Jharkhand. In a
statement, the company said its suppliers were "contractually required" not to employ
children.
It added, however: "Unfortunately, it is very difficult to monitor further along the supply
chain, ie with regard to the collection of mica in remote areas, especially since these areas are
considered not safe."
A spokeswoman said a study completed last year by the Indo-German Export Promotion
Foundation had found that "children are indeed involved in the collection of mica - however
exclusively within the scope of family groups. It is an important result for us that no cases of
permanent work, bonded or slave labour were found".
She said Merck had been "informally" funding one local school and would follow the study's
recommendations to set up another school for a maximum of 200 pupils.

In the UK, Merck supplies S Black, which sells mica products to British manufacturers,
including supermarkets.
Tesco, the biggest supermarket chain, said three of its 750 beauty products contained low
levels of mica from S Black.
"We take any allegation of poor labour standards within our supply chain very seriously especially any suspicion of child labour - so as soon as we were made aware of these
allegations we got in touch with our product suppliers and S Black and will investigate."
Neil Berry, managing director of S Black, said: "Since Merck are responsible for the
manufacture and supply of the products we sell for them in the UK, I am unable to add any
further information."
Asda, which buys directly from Merck, said it would invite the company into its offices
tomorrow to discuss the position. "Child labour in any shape or form is unacceptable," it said.
In Jharkhand, corporate statements mean nothing to children so impoverished that they feel
compelled to earn a pitiful wage to live.
Their testimonies confirm that even working in family groups is no picnic. Several mentioned
fears of snake bites and malaria. Others said they had suffered broken bones, exhaustion and
heatstroke.
"I feel pain in my hands and my body," said an eight-year-old girl, Rinki.
Her grandmother Mangari, 60, has been collecting mica since she was a teenager, a grim
reminder of the generational cycle of Jharkhand's poverty. "Of course I want to send Rinki to
school, but we have to earn money and there are no schools," she said.