Across several weeks, coercive phone calls persisted. Originally, reportedly from an ex-law enforcement official and a former defense officer, later from the authorities. In the end, Mohammad Khurshid Shaikh claims he was summoned to law enforcement headquarters and instructed bluntly: stop speaking out or encounter real trouble.
Shaikh is among those opposing a high-value redevelopment plan where this historic settlement – a massive informal community with rich history – will be demolished and redeveloped by a large business group.
"The unique ecosystem of the slum is like nowhere else in the planet," says Shaikh. "Yet they want to eradicate our community and stop us speaking out."
The cramped lanes of the slum sit in stark contrast to the towering buildings and elite residences that loom over the settlement. Residences are constructed informally and often without proper sanitation, small-scale operations emit toxic smoke and the environment is permeated by the suffocating smell of exposed drainage.
To some, the promise of the slum's redevelopment into a modern district of high-end towers, organized recreational areas, shiny shopping centers and apartments with two toilets is an optimistic future come true.
"There's no proper healthcare, proper streets or water management and we have no places for kids to enjoy," says a chai seller, fifty-six, who migrated from southern India in the early eighties. "The sole solution is to tear it all down and construct proper housing."
Yet certain residents, such as the leather artisan, are resisting the plan.
All recognize that Dharavi, historically ignored as informal housing, is in stark need economic input and modernization. Yet they are concerned that this plan – absent of community input – is one that will turn valuable urban land into an elite enclave, displacing the marginalized, immigrant populations who have lived there since the late 1800s.
This involved these excluded, migrant workers who established the vacant wetlands into a frequently examined example of self-reliance and economic productivity, whose production is worth between one million dollars and $2m a year, making it a major unregulated sectors.
Out of about a million residents living in the dense 2.2 square kilometer zone, fewer than half will be qualified for new homes in the redevelopment, which is estimated to take a significant period to finish. Additional residents will be transferred to wastelands and coastal regions on the far outskirts of Mumbai, potentially fragment a long-established social network. Some will not get homes at all.
Those allowed to stay in the neighborhood will be allocated apartments in high-rise buildings, a significant rupture from the organic, collective approach of living and working that has sustained this area for so long.
Industries from tailoring to clay work and recycling are projected to shrink in number and be relocated to a designated "business area" separated from people's residences.
For those such as this protester, a craftsman and long-time of his family to live in Dharavi, the redevelopment presents a survival challenge. His makeshift, multi-level facility creates leather coats – tailored coats, premium outerwear, studded bomber jackets – marketed in luxury boutiques in upscale neighborhoods and overseas.
Relatives lives in the rooms downstairs and his workers and garment workers – migrants from other states – reside on-site, allowing him to sustain operations. Away from this community, accommodation prices are frequently tenfold more expensive for minimal space.
Within the official facilities close by, a conceptual model of the redevelopment plan illustrates a contrasting perspective. Fashionable inhabitants mill about on two-wheelers and electric vehicles, buying continental baked goods and breakfast items and socializing on a terrace outside a restaurant and dessert parlor. It is a complete departure from the inexpensive idli sambar breakfast and budget beverage that supports the neighborhood.
"This isn't improvement for our community," states Shaikh. "It's a huge real estate deal that will make it unaffordable for residents to remain."
Furthermore, there's concern of the business conglomerate. Run by a prominent businessman – a leading figure and a close ally of the government head – the corporation has been subject to claims of favoritism and ethical concerns, which it disputes.
Although local authorities calls it a joint project, the developer paid a significant amount for its 80% stake. A lawsuit claiming that the initiative was improperly granted to the developer is under review in India's supreme court.
Since they began to publicly resist the redevelopment, Shaikh and other residents state they have been subjected to a long-running campaign of coercion and warning – involving phone calls, direct threats and implications that speaking against the development was comparable with speaking against the country – by people they assert represent the corporate group.
Among those suspected of delivering warnings is {a retired police officer|a former law enforcement official|an ex-c
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