Dear Editor,
The MEL article on Five years since the Covid-19 lockdown accurately captures what the pandemic exposed – an anti-people system.
The COVID-19 pandemic didn’t just bring a health crisis—it ripped off the veil hiding decades of systemic neglect, inequality, and injustice in India. What millions experienced during this time was not just the result of a virus, but the direct consequence of broken institutions, failed policies, and a system that has consistently prioritized the privileged over the poor.
India’s healthcare system was the first to collapse. As the virus surged, hospitals ran out of beds, oxygen cylinders, and basic medicines. People were turned away from overflowing emergency rooms, dying in autos, on footpaths, or at home without any medical attention. The devastation was even worse in rural areas, where health infrastructure is almost non-existent. Communities were left to fend for themselves, with no doctors, no testing, and no support from the state. This was not a tragedy—it was a betrayal.
Education, too, was thrown into chaos. As schools moved online, millions of children, especially those from Adivasi, rural, and low-income communities—were simply left behind. No internet. No smartphones. No electricity. For many, education came to a dead stop. Dropouts soared. And yet, there was silence from those in power.
But perhaps the most horrifying image of the pandemic was the endless columns of migrant workers walking home on highways, barefoot and hungry, after the abrupt national lockdown. These were the very people who built our cities, kept our factories running, cleaned our homes—and yet, when crisis hit, they were discarded. No jobs. No food. No shelter. No dignity. Hundreds died trying to reach home.
These aren’t isolated failures—they are the result of years of deliberate underfunding, privatization, and apathy towards the vast majority of working people. They reveal a truth we’ve known for far too long: that the system which is meant to protect the people actually serves only a handful of rich. And when disaster hits, it’s always the poor, the marginalized, the contract worker, the rural family, who pay the price.
But this cannot end in silence.
We must demand:
- Universal, publicly funded healthcare—accessible in every village and city.
- Equitable access to education—with internet, devices, and support for every child.
- Legal protection and dignity for all workers, especially migrants and those in contract labor.
Accountability from the state, not sympathy, not slogans, but real action.
Sumitra
Nashik