As temperatures rise and climate shocks intensify in India, the Self-Employed Women’s Association’s (SEWA) 2.9 million members face a dire reality. For these vulnerable workers, the climate crisis isn’t just about extreme weather—it’s a brutal force eroding their livelihoods, health and dignity. As SEWA Director Reema Nanavaty shares, the fight for climate justice is urgent and essential to prevent further human suffering and systemic injustice.
There is an invisible killer in India. It doesn’t present itself in violent warfare, authoritarian government crackdowns or ruthless exploitation by private actors. Nonetheless, it is just as violent.
The invisible killer’s attacks begin innocently enough––headaches, dizziness and confusion. The true damage begins when the killer’s attacks are sustained. In mere days, it relentlessly forces its victims to abandon their livelihoods, stripping them of the ability to earn a living wage. With time, it erodes every aspect of daily life, denying victims and their families necessities like medication, daily meals and safe housing, and destroying their children’s education prospects.
For India’s working poor, the invisible killer is nearly inescapable. It is in the thin air they breathe, the scorching roads beneath their feet and the water that fails to quench their thirst. The invisible killer is heat.
Heatwaves have taken the lives of over 140 people in India this summer alone, three of whom were members of SEWA. The organisation, which received the Right Livelihood Award alongside its founder Ela Bhatt in 1984, is India’s largest trade union for women.
All 2.9 million SEWA members belong to the informal sector–– the 93 per cent of Indian labourers who lack social protection and are therefore most susceptible to economic shocks. Now, Reema Nanavaty, SEWA’s Director, says climate shocks are further preying on workers’ vulnerabilities.
Meera*, a waste collector and recycler, is just one of the SEWA members Nanavaty has seen suffer the climate crisis’ cruel consequences. Compensated by the weight of goods she collects, Meera starts her workday at 3 in the morning to maximise her chances of finding items that scrap dealers will buy.
However, like millions of women across the country, oppressive heatwaves have forced Meera to cut her workday short, severely reducing her daily income. The consequences are devastating.
“They used to have three meals a day, and now they are only able to have one,” Nanavaty said. From here, Meera’s suffering reaches levels that no living being should be forced to endure.
As a result of her reduced income, Meera became unable to purchase the medication she needs to regulate her blood pressure. Desperate and lacking dignified alternatives, Meera turned to a money lender.
“The terms of money lenders mean she may not be able to repay in cash,” Nanavaty said. “So the result is that once she has finished collecting the waste and selling it to the scrap dealer, and has made a meal for her family, she then goes to work for the money lender for the rest of the day. He may ask her to do any kind of work, and very often he exploits her sexually and physically.”
Meera’s inescapable reality cements what climate activists have been saying for decades: the climate crisis is here, it is real and it is killing us. And while rising sea levels and melting glaciers may seem abstract, the impact of the climate crisis on Meera is painfully real.
“The worst aspect of climate change is it snatches away our dignity and self-respect and that is why there is a dire and urgent need for climate justice,” Nanavaty said.
This is the fourth year of consecutive heatwaves in India. Early on, SEWA investigated how to best assist their members. Alongside other initiatives, they decided to offer a heat insurance product that compensates members when extreme temperatures prevent them from working.
Fifty thousand of SEWA’s members received a payout earlier this summer, protecting them from the horrendous chain of consequences experienced by women like Meera. For Sarla, a saltpan worker, the money could not have come at a better time.
“She lives and works in the desert for eight to nine months of the year, living in the open sky and the earth below,” Nanavaty said. “During the heatwave, her food became rancid. Still, she could not go back to her village because her entire year’s labour would have been lost. It was at such a time when she got the payout.”
For Sarla and the tens of thousands of others who received the heat insurance payout, the money ended up being the difference between life and death.
Sarla’s first priority was to keep her family alive. She bought a cooling device to chill their nearly boiling drinking water, ensuring they stayed hydrated. Nanavaty explained, “She said if we were alive, then we could do everything else.”
Before the heat insurance compensation, Sarla couldn’t pay her son’s school fees and was ready to pull him out. The payout ensured he could continue studying. She used the rest of the money to pay her monthly loan to the bank, keeping her away from predatory money lenders like the one abusing Meera.
“I think this is what resilience is all about, that she’s able to bounce back and continue her life with dignity and self-respect,” said Nanavaty.
As Nanavaty makes clear, India’s invisible killer will continue preying on the most vulnerable if powerful countries, corporations and financial institutions refuse to take systematic action against the climate crisis. Meera and Sarla’s realities prove that today’s status quo is not neutral, it’s lethal.
“I think the biggest lesson is that you have to learn and relearn with the women,” said Nanavaty. “You have to walk with them in their journey.
*All names have been changed to protect the privacy and identities of the individuals included in this story.
