Over an extended period, coercive messages continued. At first, supposedly from an ex-law enforcement official and a former defense officer, later from the police themselves. In the end, one resident claims he was ordered to law enforcement headquarters and warned explicitly: keep quiet or experience severe repercussions.
This third-generation resident is part of a group resisting a multimillion-dollar redevelopment plan where one of India's largest slums – a massive informal community with rich history – will be bulldozed and redeveloped by a corporate giant.
"The unique ecosystem of the slum is exceptional in the planet," explains the resident. "However their intention is to dismantle our community and prevent our protests."
The cramped lanes of the slum stand in sharp opposition to the towering buildings and Bollywood penthouses that loom over the neighborhood. Dwellings are assembled randomly and often lacking adequate facilities, small-scale operations release harmful emissions and the air is filled with the suffocating smell of uncovered waste channels.
For certain residents, the promise of Dharavi transformed into a developed area of luxury high-rises, neat parks, contemporary malls and homes with two toilets is an optimistic future achieved.
"We lack adequate medical facilities, roads or water management and there's nowhere for children to play," explains a chai seller, in his fifties, who migrated from southern India in the early eighties. "The sole solution is to tear it all down and provide modern residences."
But others, such as Shaikh, are fighting against the project.
All recognize that the slum, long neglected as unauthorized settlement, is in stark need economic input and modernization. But they worry that this initiative – lacking public consultation – might turn valuable urban land into an elite enclave, displacing the disadvantaged, migrant communities who have been there since the nineteenth century.
This involved these excluded, displaced people who developed the empty marshland into an extensively researched phenomenon of local enterprise and business activity, whose production is valued at between $1m and two million dollars per year, making it among the globe's biggest unregulated sectors.
Among approximately 1 million people living in the crowded 220-hectare area, a minority will be eligible for alternative accommodation in the redevelopment, which is projected to take an extended timeframe to accomplish. Others will be transferred to undeveloped zones and saline fields on the distant periphery of the metropolis, potentially fragment a generations-old social network. A portion will be denied housing at all.
Those allowed to remain in the neighborhood will be provided flats in tower blocks, a major break from the natural, communal way of residing and operating that has supported the community for generations.
Industries from garment work to pottery and recycling are projected to reduce in scale and be relocated to a designated "industrial sector" distant from homes.
For residents like this protester, a leather artisan and long-time resident to live in the slum, the project presents a fundamental risk. His rickety, three-floor operation creates garments – sharp blazers, suede trenches, decorated jackets – marketed in premium stores in upscale neighborhoods and abroad.
His family lives in the spaces underneath and his workers and garment workers – laborers from other states – also sleep in the same building, permitting him to afford their labour. Outside this community, housing costs are frequently tenfold more expensive for a single room.
Within the official facilities close by, an illustrated mock-up of the transformation initiative shows an alternative perspective. Slickly dressed people move around on two-wheelers and electric vehicles, purchasing continental baked goods and croissants and socializing on a patio adjacent to a coffee shop and dessert parlor. This depicts a stark contrast from the inexpensive idli sambar first meal and budget beverage that supports local residents.
"This represents no development for residents," says the protester. "This constitutes a massive property transaction that will render it impossible for our community to continue."
There is also distrust of the development company. Managed by a powerful tycoon – one of India's most powerful and a supporter of the government head – the conglomerate has faced accusations of favoritism and ethical concerns, which it rejects.
Although local authorities calls it a joint project, the business group paid a significant amount for its majority share. Legal proceedings stating that the initiative was unfairly awarded to the developer is being considered in the nation's highest judicial body.
Since they began to publicly resist the project, protesters and community members claim they have been subjected to an extended period of coercion and warning – including communications, direct threats and insinuations that criticizing the development was comparable with anti-national sentiment – by figures they claim work for the developer.
Included in these suspected of delivering warnings is {a retired police officer|a former law enforcement official|an ex-c
Maya Chen is an urban planner and writer with over a decade of experience in sustainable city development and community engagement.