RIGHTFULLY OURS

Introduction

Tamil Nadu has emerged as India’s second-largest producer of cotton yarn and a key node in the global textile supply chain, contributing significantly to the national economy. This industrial success, however, is sustained through labour practices that sit uneasily with India’s constitutional guarantees and statutory prohibitions on bonded and child labour. Recruitment arrangements such as the Sumangali scheme (“the scheme”), practised in the state, function to entrench gendered exploitation and long-term restrictions on workers’ freedom. 

Despite the constitutional prohibition on forced labour under Article 23 and the statutory abolition of bonded labour under the Bonded Labour System (Abolition) Act, 1976, labour recruitment in Tamil Nadu’s spinning mills continues to exhibit core indicators of bonded labour. Recruiters, operating largely in underprivileged rural communities, entice parents and manufacture consent through promises of stable employment, residential accommodation, regular meals, opportunities for education, and a lump-sum payment at the end of a fixed contractual period. In practice, these assurances translate into restricted mobility, excessive working hours, irregular or withheld wages, and unsafe working conditions. 

Drawing on investigative findings documented in the 2016 ‘Fabric of Slavery’ report by the India Committee of the Netherlands (“ICN”), and a Report from October 2014, released by SOMO (Centre for Research on MNCs) (“SOMO)”, this blog argues that the persistence of the Sumangali scheme is a systemic enforcement failure. Labour practices undertaken in the name of the Sumangali Scheme are incompatible with both domestic labour protections and international human rights standards. Addressing the same, this blog proceeds in four parts. Part I outlines the constitutional and statutory framework governing bonded labour in the context of Tamil Nadu’s spinning mills. Part II examines the Sumangali scheme as a mechanism that undermines these legal protections. Part III analyses enforcement gaps at the factory, supply-chain, and State levels that allow such violations to persist. Part IV focuses on recent labour law reforms and outlines how these can be leveraged to address systemic exploitation in the textile industry. Lastly, Part V provides recommendations that should be implemented to structurally uproot the evils perpetuated by the scheme.  

The Sumangali Scheme: An overview

The Sumangali Scheme is a labour recruitment arrangement prevalent in India’s textile sector, under which young girls and women are engaged on fixed-term contracts with the promise of a lump-sum payment at the end of the contract period. Tamil Nadu serves as a critical case study for examining the operation of the Sumangali scheme due to its centrality in India’s textile and spinning mill industry. The State alone houses approximately 1,800 spinning mills, employing over 400,000 workers, with young girls and women comprising nearly 60-70 per cent of the workforce. 

Employment under the Sumangali scheme is frequently marketed as a “once in a lifetime opportunity,” promising residential accommodation, regular meals, and financial security through a lump-sum payout upon completion of the contract. In practice, these promises function as mechanisms of inducement that undermine meaningful consent. The scheme operates through deferred wages, restricted freedom of movement, and severe constraints on the right to exit, thereby exhibiting core indicators of bonded labour and forced labour under both domestic law and international labour standards. 

Most of these workers hail from SC, ST and OBC communities, which have historically experienced adverse levels of bonded labour. These entrenched caste-based inequalities, marked by restricted access to education, landlessness and chronic indebtedness, push them to the bottom of the labour markets, making them highly vulnerable to exploitation. 

Ironically, the term “Sumangali”, in Tamil, denotes a “happily married woman.” 

Investigative studies and reports indicate that the exploitative recruitment scheme is equally accompanied by harmful working conditions within the spinning mills and factories. The majority of these mills allow for overtime, which leads to about 60 or more working hours with an intense amount of pressure faced by them daily. The supervisors in charge of these mills incorporate strict and punitive measures like extended shifts, restricted movements, arbitrary wage deductions for minor mistakes and constant monitoring, which indirectly leads to physical and verbal harassment. The productivity of the workers is carefully assessed and monitored, followed by the implementation of disciplinary measures if they fail to meet their expected thresholds of work. Apart from these challenges, lie environmental concerns like excessive humidity, dust pollution and threat by exposure to toxic chemicals. Lack of basic training and protective gear like Personal Protective Equipment (“PPE”) while operating complex machinery is also one of the many health hazards and risks faced by the young women workers. Most of these women reside in dormitory-like rooms that are no different from cramped jail cells. About 30-35 of these women share a single space and are barely provided with any adequate amount of drinking water or sanitation facilities.

The women workers are completely alienated from their families. They aren’t allowed to contact their family members, and neither are they allowed to keep any personal devices for communication, significantly affecting their mental health and well-being. The practice of collective bargaining and forming trade unions is practically non-existent, and anti-union sentiments are still strongly upheld by the spinning mills. 

The Sumangali Scheme: Judicial Recognition and Persistent Enforcement Failures

Beyond statutory non-compliance, the Sumangali scheme raises a more fundamental issue, i.e., forced labour. Under Section 4 of the Bonded Labour Act, any system compelling labour in consideration of a debt is prohibited. Section 5 renders such agreements void ab initio. The combination of advances, wage withholding, and restricted exit options places the Sumangali system squarely within the definition of bonded labour. This is reinforced by Article 23 of the Constitution, which prohibits forced labour in all forms. The Supreme Court’s expansive interpretation, particularly in People’s Union for Democratic Rights v. Union of India, makes clear that economic compulsion combined with legal coercion suffices to establish a violation.

In recent years, the courts have recognised the scheme’s illegality. A Madras High Court bench had held the Sumangali, or colloquially the “camp-coolie” system, to be per se illegal and amounting to bonded labour. In 2009, the same court in Tamil Nadu Spinning Mills Assn. v. State directed the State to abolish the scheme, enforce minimum wages and protect worker mobility. It ordered that girls under 18 be withdrawn, a wage of minimum Rs 150 per day be paid, and that a maximum of 20 per cent of mill employees be apprentices, after which they must become permanent, with full freedom of movement. These directions echo the Bonded Labour Act’s requirements.

The State Government of Tamil Nadu, to address the living situation of workers, came out with The Tamil Nadu Hostels and Homes for Women and Children (Regulation) Act, 2014, which regulates private hostels and ensures that they run only after obtaining a successful license and are registered for the same, as provided under Section 4 and Section 12 of the Act. Multi-stakeholder programmes in the State, like the Tamil Nadu Multi-Stakeholder Programme by the Ethical Trading Initiative, run community outreach programs, training, grievance channels and worker groups that target Sumangali practices. NGOs and donor projects like the LAUDES Foundation aim at the rehabilitation of the survivors of the Sumangali scheme and work to prevent the recruitment of young women workers in the garment industry. 

However, studies and reports, particularly the 2016 “Fabric of Slavery” study, found that most mills simply rebranded the scheme, Kanmani, Ponmagal, etc., and workers continue to face forced-labour conditions.

Despite court orders, enforcement has lagged in Tamil Nadu. District Monitoring Committees were set up to inspect mills and hostel conditions, but the oversight is weak. From 2007 to 2009, workers’ groups petitioned the NHRC and High Court; the government issued notifications fixing Rs. 110 per day minimum wages for Sumangali apprentices. Yet NGOs report that many girls are still confined, underpaid or paid late, and prohibited from leaving hostels. Labour inspectors often treat these women as “apprentices” rather than regular workers, allowing factories to evade normal labour laws. The Sumangali contracts themselves are informal and administered by local brokers, making detection hard. In practice, authorities have relied on voluntary Codes of Conduct, e.g. Southern India Mills Association’s 2013 “Recruitment Guidelines,” and audits by brands, with limited effect. Government nodal officers and anti-bonded-labour Vigilance Committees, mandated under the Bonded Labour Act, exist on paper but seldom act swiftly.

The Sumangali Scheme and the Labour Codes, 2020: A Structural Illegality

The most important loophole in the existing remedies is that they are piecemeal. To make a case, aggrieved persons have to invoke child-labour laws, the Factories Act, or minimum-wage rules, but no exclusive law targets the Sumangali system. However, the notification of the four new Labour Codes in November 2025 marks a decisive shift toward consolidation and formalisation of rights-based labour governance. Though not an exclusive legislation, when read together, these Codes structurally invalidate the Sumangali scheme. At its core, the scheme collapses under multiple, overlapping statutory violations, particularly when examined through the Code on Wages, 2019 [“A”], the  The Occupational Safety, Health and Working Conditions (OSH) Code, 2020 (“OSH Code”) [“B”], and the  Code on Social Security, 2020 [“C”].

[A] Code on Wages, 2019

The Sumangali model fundamentally contravenes the architecture of wage protection.

Section 5 mandates payment of minimum wages, rendering any arrangement that depresses real wages (through withholding or “savings”) unlawful. More decisively, Section 17 requires time-bound wage payments, thereby prohibiting deferred or conditional remuneration structures. The scheme’s end-of-term payout is, therefore, per se illegal. Further, Sections 18-20 strictly regulate permissible deductions. The retention of wages, often justified as advances or marriage-linked savings, constitutes an unauthorised deduction, falling outside statutory exceptions. Such arrangements are not merely irregular; they are void.

The frequent misclassification of workers as “apprentices” to evade these obligations does not resolve the illegality. If the engagement lacks genuine training, it violates both the Code on Wages and the Apprentices Act, 1961, exposing the employer to dual liability.

[B] The OSH Code, 2020

The OSH Code expands the definition of “worker” to include virtually all forms of labour engagement, thereby closing earlier classification loopholes. Sumangali workers, irrespective of contractual labels, fall squarely within its protective scope.

Sections 25-28 impose strict limits on working hours, mandating an 8-hour workday, overtime compensation, and weekly rest. The long-hour regimes typical of Sumangali mills are therefore unlawful. Equally significant are Sections 43-44, which regulate women’s employment. While permitting women to work across sectors, including night shifts with consent, the Code conditions this on robust safety guarantees. The historically documented dormitory conditions, restricted mobility, and lack of welfare facilities under the Sumangali scheme directly violate these provisions.

The most structurally decisive intervention lies in Part XI, i.e., Contract Labour. Sections 45-47 require licensing and regulatory compliance for contractors, while Section 57 prohibits the use of contract labour in core activities. Spinning and weaving, central to textile production, fall within this prohibition. Consequently, the outsourcing architecture underpinning the Sumangali scheme is legally untenable. Moreover, where contract labour is improperly engaged, the principal employer is deemed liable under Sections 54-56, eliminating the possibility of evasion through intermediaries.

[C] The Code on Social Security, 2020

Establishments exceeding statutory thresholds, i.e., 10-20 workers, must register for ESI and Provident Fund, making non-contribution a clear statutory breach. Textile mills engaging large labour forces cannot plausibly claim exemption. Further, the Code universalises maternity benefits, gratuity, and health protections, which are particularly relevant given the demographic profile of Sumangali workers. Denial of these benefits constitutes both statutory and constitutional violations under Articles 21 and 42. Importantly, the Code introduces a framework for unorganised workers in Chapter IX, signalling legislative intent to extend protection to precisely the class of vulnerable labourers historically captured by the Sumangali system. The recognition of fixed-term employment further prevents evasion, thereby ensuring that even short-term workers are entitled to proportionate benefits, dismantling another structural feature of the scheme.

Therefore, when read holistically, the Labour Codes eliminate each pillar sustaining the Sumangali scheme, such as:

[a] Deferred wages are prohibited under Sections 5 and 17 of the Wages Code

[b] Unauthorised deductions are barred under Section 18 of the Wages Code

[c] Excessive hours and unsafe conditions are invalid under the OSH Code

[d] Contractual outsourcing of core work is prohibited under Section 57 of the OSH Code

[e] Social security exclusion is unlawful under the Social Security Code thresholds.

The Labour Codes do not require reinterpretation to address the Sumangali system; they already render it illegal. The challenge is one of enforcement and regulatory capacity. If implemented rigorously through inspections, mandatory registration, and strict liability for principal employers, the Codes can uproot the economic and legal architecture that continues to enable the scheme.

Recommendations

The persistence of the Sumangali system is not a consequence of normative gaps, but of enforcement failure and institutional inertia. The response must therefore be structurally targeted.

First, the State must rigorously operationalise health and safety inspections under the Factories Act framework, now subsumed within the OSH regime, particularly in relation to working conditions, hostel facilities, and worker mobility. This requires regular and unannounced inspections, coordinated action between labour departments and law enforcement, and strict invocation of penal provisions under the Bonded Labour System (Abolition) Act, 1976. To reinforce accountability, a labour compliance ranking system, backed by mandatory public disclosure, should be institutionalised.

Secondly, a targeted statutory intervention, either through central amendment or state-specific rules, should explicitly prohibit “camp labour” or analogous bonded arrangements. The definition of “apprentice” must be clarified to be narrowly construed to prevent misuse, and where engagements lack genuine training components, they must be treated as standard employment relationships. If necessary, the Apprentices Act should be amended to exclude exploitative schemes masquerading as training programmes. Additionally, misclassification as “apprentices” must be treated as a statutory violation, with such workers deemed entitled to full protections under the Labour Codes.

Thirdly, Bonded Labour Vigilance Committees and district-level monitoring bodies must be reactivated.

Fourthly, textile manufacturers, mill owners and suppliers should be mandatorily required to maintain digitised supply chain records under the Shram Suvidha Portal, recognised by the Central Government, to register and maintain an official record of the young girls and women working in their mills. 

Fifthly, workers historically engaged under Sumangali arrangements should be proactively registered under the Social Security framework as unorganised workers, ensuring access to health, maternity, and pension benefits.

Sixthly, the local mill owners aren’t the only ones responsible for the exploitation faced by these young women workers in the Tamil Nadu Mills. International brands, suppliers, and consumers are also equally liable and share legal and moral accountability for the same. To ensure they are also held equally liable, India should thoroughly adopt the Mandatory Human Rights Due Diligence (mHRDD) laws that fall under the purview of the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights, similar to how the EU has adopted the Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence Directive (CSDDD) and how Germany has incorporated the Supply Chain Due Diligence Act. At present, India lacks a statutory due diligence regime, largely because the existing ones rely on soft-law guidelines and are disclosure-based, prioritising ease of doing business over actual corporate accountability. Although corporate responsibility models like the Draft National Action Plan on Business and Human Rights exist, they continue to remain non-binding and are yet to be formalised. Legally enforcing a due-diligence regime will require multinational and international brands that source from India to audit, disclose and ensure the use of a more transparent approach to prevent labour rights violations across every stage of production, be it weaving or dyeing. 

Lastly, and most importantly, targeted outreach in vulnerable districts, through schools, local governance bodies, and civil society, should expose the exploitative nature of such schemes. This must be paired with viable alternatives, including skill development, education, and formal employment pathways, particularly for young women exiting mills. Without such interventions, legal prohibition alone risks displacement rather than eradication.

Conclusion

The Sumangali scheme exposes a structural contradiction in India’s labour regime; a system that clearly prohibits bonded labour, yet enables its functional reproduction through classification and enforcement gaps.

At the recruitment stage, the absence of regulation over intermediaries allows coercion to be disguised as consent. At the factory level, the classification of workers as “apprentices” removes them from the protection of core labour laws. At the supply-chain level, fragmented production structures dilute employer liability. In each of these instances, the law is systematically bypassed without being formally violated. Judicial recognition has already settled the illegality of such arrangements. Yet, in the absence of sustained enforcement and clear attribution of responsibility, these determinations remain ineffective.

What the Sumangali scheme ultimately demonstrates is that prohibition without enforceability produces compliance in form and evasion in substance. Any response must therefore focus on collapsing these gaps by eliminating misclassification, enforcing principal employer liability, demanding accountability from the stakeholders, and extending regulatory scrutiny across the supply chain. Without this shift, the legal framework will continue to recognise exploitation without being able to prevent it.