"Itni Dhoop Hai, AC Chala Do."
It is a phrase we have all heard or said, stepping back home after an hour of grocery shopping in the heat. We take off our shoes, reach for the AC remote, and sigh in relief. But think for a moment—what about the ones who do not have the luxury of resting even in front of a cooler or fan at their homes? Those who can not afford even a moment’s break because their family’s survival depends on the wages they earn that very day. Yes, I am talking about the frontline workers—construction labourers, farmers, domestic helpers, and more. These people face the scorching sun daily, pushing through because there is no other choice. As winter approaches, we all want a cozy workspace, but not everyone can have one.
Let me take you through one such story of Swati (name changed), an ASHA (Accredited Social Health Activist) worker in Supaul, Bihar. Swati lives with her 3 children. Her husband is a migrant daily wage worker. Swati does her work day in and day out, visiting households as part of her duties, all while enduring the heat, rain, and cold, earning based on the number of home visits and promoting health awareness. For her work, she only receives minimal incentives depending on the daily home visits, which is again verified at multiple levels [1].
But why are we discussing this now? As an economics student, I studied numerous theories and models related to the economy, environment, health, and more, but I never had the chance to connect these theories with real-world conditions. Recently, I had the opportunity to do fieldwork, where I gained insights into the culture, people, and various components of society. Honestly, it changed my perspective on life. I reckon, after one such community visit, I returned to my air-conditioned office, exhausted and scorched from the heat. As I cooled down, a thought crossed my mind. Whenever I am out in the field in the heat, I find relief knowing I can return to a more relaxed office space. But I had never stopped to think about the frontline workers who spend hours in the field daily, returning home with no relief.
Determined to understand more, I asked her directly during my next visit, “Aapko dhup me nikalne me dikkat hoti hai?” (Do you face difficulties working in this heat?) She gave me a tired smile and said, “Hota toh hai, ab kya karein.” (Yes, it does, but what can we do?) Her words hit me hard. She was not just bearing the heat, but accepting it as a part of her life—because skipping work was not an option.
But do we really have no option to help them in any way? Out of curiosity, I researched the government policies for workers like Swati. The only solution I found was that the Anganwadi worker's visiting hours had been shifted from 7:30 am to 11:30 am to 7:30 am to 10:30 am during heat waves, with a few extended hours in the winter.
To clarify whether it is a really effective solution—I tried to talk to a few ASHA and AWWs. I asked them if this helped them from the trouble they had working in the heat, and they smiled, saying, "Ek ghanta kam-zyada karne se kya hota hai, tabiyat toh kharab hoti hi hai." (What difference does an hour make? Our health still suffers.) It was clear that the time changes were far from practical. I did not get the answer to my question, “Can we not do anything for them?”
Reflecting on the numerous effects of daily heat exposure—such as heat exhaustion, dehydration, heatstroke, skin issues, respiratory problems, chronic health conditions, mental stress, and reduced productivity—can we not at least ensure that frontline workers are made aware of how to protect themselves from these dangers? Can we not, at least, inform them about the techniques to cover their faces and bodies from direct heat and carry water and umbrellas during fieldwork—can we not do anything?
It is not only about ASHAs or Anganwadi workers. Think about construction labourers working in the sun, vegetable vendors sitting by the roadside all day, rickshaw pullers ferrying passengers in the heat, or your house-help. Their earnings depend solely on what they manage to make each day. What government relief measures are in place to support them during extreme weather? What can we do, both individually and collectively, to help? I honestly don’t know the solution. Maybe there isn't one clear answer, but it’s a conversation we need to have.
I know a single individual cannot make a change, but—what if we could change this together? We can take the first step by starting the conversation, raising awareness, and discussing solutions.
What do you think we can do during extreme weather to make our frontline workers' lives easier? Share your thoughts below!