Kanika Datta: May a million entrepreneurs bloom

In the same way that shanty car repair shops are thriving despite the onslaught of organised car servicing networks, there is no reason small shop-owners can't do likewise

Razia Bumper Repair is part of a series of shanty shops that offers a range of car repair services (from “denting penting” and so on to fairly sophisticated engine work). Its proprietor is a diffident and exquisitely mannered youth in soiled jeans and shirt, and his assistants are clad likewise.

The boot lock on my battered decade-old Santro had broken as had the seat-side lever that activated it. Could he fix it? Sure. The cost? Rs 80. I did a double take at the cheapness.  Mr Razia Bumper Repair, assuming I had adjudged the cost too high, added that this princely sum included “labour charge”. After some feigned reluctance, I acquiesced and less than 30 minutes later drove out several thousands of notional rupees richer. After all, the bill was a fraction of what an authorised dealer would have charged (and four years on, the lock still works).

Six months later, the window lever on the driver’s side gave way, requiring another visit to Mr Razia Bumper Repair. This time, a small part needed replacing so the bill was Rs 120 (labour charge included) but the time taken was no less. Some eight men worked on the innards of the window mechanism in concentrated silence. 

Like this tiny enterprise, which appears to comprise several youths with relationships rooted in a common village, the other shops on this muddy arcade work on the same principle: low cost, quick service, high volume. It is unlikely that these young men have attended the Industrial Training Institutes that our policy makers hope will transform India’s vast labour force into an employable mass. They all perform a sterling service to thousands of middle class car owners who decline to pay the extortionate rates charged by authorised service centres, many under the auspices of multinational car manufacturers. 

As the debate rages over the fate of small retailers in the face of organised foreign retail, these shabby little outfits have thrived despite the proliferation of deep-pocketed multinationals and their large car servicing chains. Indeed, the biggest problem for Razia Bumper Repair and its ilk is the civic authorities. That’s because the entire business is illegal, a collective squatter on a dirt patch that belongs to the municipality. It exists owing to various pay-offs to various local strongmen and petty politicians. Beyond that these young entrepreneurs pay no regular licence fees and the electricity connections no doubt add to the state’s Transmission & Distribution losses.

Given the patent utility of the self-taught roadside mechanic (and car owners can gratefully attest to their efficiency India-wide), most sensible civic authorities in other countries would have moved to support them by providing a clean environment, metered power and water and replacing the Thug Fee by a legal civic licence.  This is what, for instance, China has done in many cities where such informal businesses established themselves. Many western cities did decades ago, creating charming informal markets as attractive alternatives to the anonymity of the giant malls. In India, tiny unorganised urban businesses – whether they are mechanics or hawkers – constantly live on the edge. Instead of a formal, transparent civic authority, their existence depends on the whims of local strongmen with powerful links in the political system. As studies of Delhi’s street vendors have shown, the vested interests run so deep that efforts to reform the system have been signally unsuccessful.

Now, there’s an additional problem. The land on which the car repair shops squats is needed for a road-widening project. It is a fair bet the civic authorities will simply evict these shops, which will then relocate to somewhere less convenient for its customers – just as they did with the city’s wholesale flower markets last year. Net result: they are not only depriving citizens of a hugely useful service but also diminishing the livelihood of hundreds of hard-working young men.

Forget the political melee over FDI in retail, little common sense has been applied to needs of such India’s less privileged informal sector. Indeed, there are multiple messages from businesses like Razia Bumper Repair. If such entrepreneurs can thrive despite the onslaught of organised car servicing networks, there is no reason small shop-owners can’t do likewise. And if they were given access to a more wholesome operating environment, imagine how their lifestyles would be transformed. And imagine what competition they’d provide to some of the world’s most powerful multinationals.