Jaideep Hardikar

Priti David

Editor

large_01-IMG20240406074335-JH-Bhandaras_youth-jobs_not_ballot_is_top_of_mind.jpg

medium_01-IMG20240406074335-JH-Bhandaras_youth-jobs_not_ballot_is_top_of_mind.jpg

small_01-IMG20240406074335-JH-Bhandaras_youth-jobs_not_ballot_is_top_of_mind.jpg

thumbnail_01-IMG20240406074335-JH-Bhandaras_youth-jobs_not_ballot_is_top_of_mind.jpg

01-IMG20240406074335-JH-Bhandaras_youth-jobs_not_ballot_is_top_of_mind.jpg

Rupesh Moharkar pulls his cohort of men and women in their 20s into a huddle for a quick pep talk.“Stay focused,” shouts the 31-year-old as the young people listen attentively to his brief sermon. “There is no room for lethargy!” It is now or never, he reminds them.Nodding in affirmation, faces serious, the bunch erupts in a victory cry. All pumped up, they go back to sprinting, running and stretching – physical-training that they’ve been doing for a month.It’s early April, 6 a.m. and Shivaji Stadium in Bhandara – the city’s only public ground – is crowded with boisterous youth, sweating it out, sprinting 100 metres; running 1,600 metres; practising shot put and other drills to build stamina.The last thing on their minds is the General Elections looming ahead where Prime Minister Narendra Modi is seeking a re-election for the third successive term. Bhandara-Gondia Parliamentary constituency votes on April 19, 2024 in the first phase of what will be a long, arduous, and sweaty election season.Far from election battles, these young men and women are focused on preparing for the ensuing state police recruitment drive, applications for which close on April 15. The examination – which will be a combination of a physical and a written test, will be held in a couple of months to fill vacancies for police constables, constable drivers, State Reserve Police Force, police bandsmen and prison constables.

India’s youth account for almost 83 per cent of the unemployed workforce, while the share of those with secondary or higher education among the unemployed has increased from 54.2 per cent in 2000 to 65.7 per cent in 2022, according to the <a href="https://www.ilo.org/wcmsp5/groups/public/---asia/---ro-bangkok/---sro-new_delhi/documents/publication/wcms_921154.pdf">2024 India Unemployment Report</a> released recently by the International Labour Organisation (ILO) and the Institute of Human Development (IHD).If unemployment and simmering anxiety among the country’s rural youths had a face, it would pretty much look like a swarming Shivaji Stadium at this moment where everyone is competing with everyone else, but know only a few will sail through. The going is tough. Lakhs will vie for a few vacancies.Bhandara and Gondia are forest-rich, high rainfall districts, cultivating paddy, but without any notable industries to absorb the sizeable Scheduled Tribes and Scheduled Castes population. The last two decades have seen heavy out-migrations from these districts to other states, of small, marginal and landless farmers.The Maharashtra Home Department <a href="https://policerecruitment2024.mahait.org/Forms/Home.aspx">announced a recruitment drive</a> to fill up <a href="https://mahabharti.in/maharashtra-police-bharti-2024/">17,130 posts</a> with a district-wise quota. Bhandara police have 60 vacancies, 24 of which are reserved for women. <a href="https://mahabharti.in/gondia-police-bharti-2024/">Gondia has some 110</a> posts.Rupesh is vying for one of those posts. Raised by his mother after his father passed away when he was a child, Rupesh’s family own an acre of land in Sonuli village near Bhandara. This is his last chance to crack the recruitment drive and get the vardi (uniform). “There’s no Plan B for me.”

And while he pursues his dream, he volunteers to guide nearly 50 youngsters, men and women, in this economically-lagging district in eastern Maharashtra. Informally, Rupesh runs an academy aptly christened ‘Sangharsh’ after their own struggle. Every member of his group is from non-descript villages of the Bhandara and Gondia districts – children of small farmers, aiming to secure a permanent job, hoping to bag the uniform, and ease their families’ burdens. Each of them has passed the higher secondary school, very few have a degree.How many of them have worked on the farms? All of them raise their hands.How many of them migrated for work elsewhere? Some of them did in the past.Most of them have worked on the MGNREGA (Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act) sites.This is but one group. The stadium is filled with several informal academy groups, mostly led by individuals like Rupesh who’ve made unsuccessful attempts before to crack the exam.

Many of the youth doing physical drills here are first or second-time voters. They are angry, but also quietly anxious about their career and future. They told PARI that they covet secure jobs in other sectors too, quality higher education, better life in villages and equal opportunities. They demand a quota in district police vacancies for the local residents.“This recruitment is happening after three years,” says Gurudeepsingh Bacchil, an aspirant who, at 32, like Rupesh, is looking to give it a final shot. The son of a retired policeman, Rupesh has been trying for a decade to bag a job in the police. “I clear the physical tests but get stuck in the written part,” he says as he walks across the stadium filled with aspirants.There’s another catch: many better-prepared and resourceful aspirants from better parts of Maharashtra apply for vacancies in lagging regions like Bhandara and Gondia, outclassing the locals, most aspirants lament. Gadchiroli, one of the left-wing-extremism (LWE) affected districts, is an exception where only the local residents can apply and get police jobs. For Rupesh and others, the going therefore gets tough.So, they all practise, and practise hard.The air in the stadium is filled with red dust raised by the scampering sprints of a hundred legs. The aspirants, wearing modest track-suits or pants; some of them with shoes on, others bare feet, are trying to better their timing. Nothing can distract them, much less elections that look so distant here.

At his aunt’s shop in Bhandara, Rupesh works as a butcher though he’s not one by caste. That’s his contribution to his aunt Prabha Shendre’s family. Wearing an apron, he hacks chickens like an expert and deals with a steady stream of customers. He’s been doing it for seven years, dreaming he’ll get the khaki uniform one day.That most of the aspirants have an uphill task is borne out by their poverty.To endure hard physical drills, Rupesh says, you need a good diet – chicken, eggs, mutton, milk, fruits… “Most of us can’t afford a good meal,” he says.

Bhandara is like a hub for the poorest rural young men and women to come, stay and prepare for the police recruitment drive – every time it’s advertised.A billion dreams jostle with each other at the Shivaji Stadium. More youth from the district will arrive on the ground as the days progress. Like the one we meet at the MGNREGA worksite in Araktondi village, in Gondia’s Arjuni Morgaon tehsil, bordering Gadchiroli: Megha Meshram, 24, a graduate, is ferrying sand and boulders along with her mother Sarita and about 300 other villagers, young and old, at a road site. So is Megha Aade, 23. The former is a Dalit (Scheduled Caste), the latter an Adivasi (Scheduled Tribe).“We run and do our drills in the village in the mornings and the evenings,” Megha Meshram tells us with a resolute voice. She lives in a thickly forested landscape and works through the day helping her parents, earning a daily wage. Both the Meghas have heard of the Bhandara academies and are thinking of moving there in May to join the hundreds who aspire to be in the police force. They are saving their wages to pay for their expenses.

Once there, they will rent rooms and live in groups, cooking and preparing for the exams together. When someone cracks the exam, they all celebrate. Others return to the tracks the next morning, waiting for the next recruitments to be announced.Young girls are not behind their male counterparts, never mind the hardships.“I lose out on my height,” says Vaishali Meshram, 21, with a sheepish smile that betrays her embarrassment. That’s not in her hands, she adds. So, she applied in the ‘bandsmen’ category, where her height won’t be a roadblock. Vaishali has been sharing a room in the city with her younger sister Gayatri and another police force aspirant, Mayuri Gharade, 21, from another village. In their neat and tidy room, they take turns to cook food. Their monthly expenditure: at least Rs. 3,000. Their protein intake: mainly gram and pulses.Skyrocketing prices are impacting their budgets, Vaishali says. “Everything is expensive.” Their daily schedule is hectic: they get up at 5 a.m., cycle down to the ground for physical training. From 10 a.m. to 12.30 p.m., they study at a nearby library. Rupesh drops by, between his work at the meat shop, and guides them with mock test paper drills. In the evening, they are back on the ground for physical drills; they wrap up the day with test prep.

Individuals like Rupesh or Vaishali are actually trying to move out of agriculture, in which they don’t see their future – most of them see their parents do the hard work on the fields without any returns. They don’t want to migrate long distances as footloose labour. As they grow older, they become desperate to land secure jobs, a livelihood that they say is dignified. But jobs – in the private sector and government – are few and far between. As the elections 2024 kick-off, they are frustrated that the incumbent regime isn’t talking about their future. This police recruitment drive is the only chance for those who have passed Class 12 but don’t have more qualifications.Who will they vote for in the coming elections?A long silence follows that question. It’s out of syllabus!

Bhandara’s youth: jobs not ballot is top of mind

بھنڈارا کے نوجوانوں کی پہلی ترجیح: الیکشن نہیں، نوکری

భండారా యువత: బ్యాలెట్ కన్నా ఉద్యోగాలకే ప్రాధాన్యం

பண்டாரா இளைஞர்களுக்கு வாக்களிப்பதில் விருப்பமில்லை

ਭੰਡਾਰਾ ਦੇ ਨੌਜਵਾਨਾਂ ਦੇ ਮਨਾਂ ਵਿੱਚ ਵੋਟ ਨਹੀਂ, ‘ਨੌਕਰੀ’ ਪਹਿਲਾਂ

ଭଣ୍ଡାରାଙ୍କ ଯୁବବର୍ଗଙ୍କ ମୁଣ୍ଡରେ ଭୋଟ୍‌ ନୁହେଁ ଚାକିରି ଚିନ୍ତା

തിരഞ്ഞെടുപ്പല്ല, ജോലി തരപ്പെടുത്തുന്നതാണ് മുഖ്യം: ഭണ്ഡാരയിലെ ചെറുപ്പക്കാര്‍

ಭಂಡಾರದ ಯುವಜನತೆ: ಚುನಾವಣೆಗಿಂತ ಉದ್ಯೋಗವೇ ಮುಖ್ಯ

भंडारा के युवा: चुनाव नहीं, रोज़गार है पहला सवाल

ભંડારાની યુવા પેઢી: પહેલા નોકરી પછી ચૂંટણી

भंडारा के नवा पीढ़ी: चुनाव नइ, नऊकरी सबले बड़े सवाल

भंडारा के युवा लोग: पहिले नोकरी फिर चुनाव

ভোট মাথায় উঠেছে! চাকরির চিন্তায় মরিয়া ভান্ডারার যৌবন

কুচকাৱাজ চলিছে ঠিকেই, পিছে লক্ষ্য চাকৰিহে, নিৰ্বাচন নহয়

नोकरी हाच आमच्यासाठी महत्त्वाचा प्रश्न!

Bhandara

At present, we can only accept donations in Indian rupees by Indian citizens. All donations made to the CounterMedia Trust are eligible for exemption under Section 80G of the Income Tax Act, 1961. Here is a copy of our exemption certificate.


India is bigger than New Delhi. And people need to know more about the rest of this vast nation.


Younger, media-saturated generations are growing up knowing little about their country, but a lot about the elites of a few metros and towns. For a narrowly-owned, commercially-driven media, the dumbing down of a nation is part of standard operating procedure. The last available data of the Centre for Media Studies (CMS, Delhi) show us that reports from New Delhi account for 66 per cent of news on the front pages of major dailies. The CMS data also found that just about 0.24 per cent of front page news came out of rural India. The TV channels are not much better.PARI exists to change that.We are a non-profit organisation. We publish under creative commons, and do not charge readers a subscription fee or put-up advertisements. Nothing is behind a paywall and we are completely free-to-access by anyone. We guard our independence and receive no direct grants from governments and corporations, nor any funding that could dictate our content. So, we are dependent on volunteer labour, donations from individuals, foundations and institutions that see value in independent and free media.PARI is changing the way Indian journalism reports and documents the rural.India is more than the elite of a few metros and towns. We report on rural lives and livelihoods, languages, communities, migrants and more. We need your help to pull off this most ambitious of Indian journalistic endeavours. The scale of this effort costs money. Donate generously - and spread the word about PARI.&nbsp;

Donate FAQs


আমাদের সম্বন্ধে জানুন

পারি’র দুনিয়ায় স্বাগত

আমাদের যাবতীয় লেখাপত্তর নিখরচায় ব্যবহার করা যায়, আর আগামীদিনেও এই নিয়মই বজায় থাকবে। আমাদের কাজকর্ম ভালো লাগলে আপনি স্বেচ্ছাশ্রম দিয়ে অথবা অর্থ সাহায্য করে এই কাজে সহায়ক হতে পারেন।

Want to republish this article? Please write to <a href="mailto:zahra@ruralindiaonline.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">zahra@ruralindiaonline.org</a> with a cc to <a href="mailto:namita@ruralindiaonline.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">namita@ruralindiaonline.org</a>

Bhandara’s youth: jobs not ballot is top of mind

Related stories

A rain-scented walk in Sivagangai

Living on ravaged land

Biswas and the bamboos on his bike

Recycling energy, Godda style

Bhadels of Goa

Pookadai: still throbbing with morning life

Koli Kadlas

Malnourishment high among children of migrants: study

Wheels of the rural Indian West

Living Under a Red Cloud in Bellary

Vedla – earrings of the Maher community

Dreaming of water, drowning in debt

Kali: the dancer and his dreams

Farmer's diet worse than a convict's

In Yavatmal, life goes on

Suicides are about the living, not the dead

Death of a carpenter

Hoisa Shigmo!

Women farmers: weaving a life in Anantapur

Defiant in Dhinkia

Spice and all that's nice

Kerala's Green Army

The ‘jugaad’ not-a-mobile

Health as someone else's wealth

Calibrating in a Kudumbashree assembly unit