“Mumbai’s Pavement Prisoners: The Untold Story of Hawkers and Hafta”

In the heart of Mumbai, where dreams are sold on footpaths and survival is stitched into daily struggle, one figure is almost always present the hawker.

They sell everything fruits, mobile covers, tea, chappals, pirated books and to the common man, they’re a convenient stop. But behind these makeshift stalls lies a cruel reality: these vendors are silently bled every week in the name of “hafta”, even after paying legal fees to the Municipal Corporation.

Legal on Paper, Illegal on the Streets

Most hawkers are not illegal. Many pay daily or weekly charges to the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC), usually around ₹20 to ₹50, often documented through receipts called pavti. But despite these official payments, they face another, darker fee.

Every week and sometimes daily they are approached by men who aren’t part of the BMC. Some wear uniforms, some don’t. Some come with threats, others with silent stares. But the message is clear: “Give the hafta, or your stall won’t survive.”

This hafta ranges from ₹200 to ₹1000 a week depending on the area, footfall, and the vendor’s product. In popular markets like Crawford, Bandra, and Dadar, this unspoken extortion is an open secret.

Police, Politics, and Protection Rackets

The hafta doesn’t go into just one pocket. According to various street vendors’ associations and sting reports, this money is divided between corrupt constables, beat officers, local musclemen, and sometimes, political agents who claim control over the area.

A 2017 report by The Times of India quoted hawkers in Andheri and Malad claiming that they pay ₹500 a week “for protection,” despite having official BMC licenses.

“If we don’t pay, they either confiscate our stall or fine us without reason,” said Raju Yadav, a street vendor in Ghatkopar. “The police take our names and warn us not to talk. But what else can we do?”

Fear is the Currency

There’s no formal receipt for hafta. No legal record. But the fear is very real.

Hawkers know they have no voice. If they speak, they risk losing everything not just their stalls, but sometimes their safety. Some have been beaten, others threatened, and many simply relocate from one footpath to another, endlessly.

And yet, they return every morning. Set up the same tarp. Pour the same tea. Sell the same belts and wallets. Because they have families to feed. Rent to pay. Children in school.

Their crime? Trying to survive on the streets of a city that promises equality but punishes the poor.

A System That Protects the Oppressor

This isn’t just about one city. This is about a system where corruption isn’t an exception but an expectation, where those who are legal still live like criminals, and where justice walks hand-in-hand with silence.

Mumbai’s hawkers don’t just face extortion. They face erasure. Their presence is tolerated, but not protected. And the very institutions that should defend them police, municipal authorities are often part of the problem.

What Needs to Change

1. Transparent Hawker Zone Policies – The National Policy on Urban Street Vendors (2009) guarantees protection, but its implementation is slow and often manipulated.
2. Independent Complaint Platforms – Hawkers need a secure way to report extortion without facing backlash.
3. Media & Public Awareness – Their stories need to be told. Silence only protects the criminals.

Final Word

Not every gangster wears a gold chain or holds a gun. Some wear khaki. Some wear political badges. And some hide behind files.

And every day, Mumbai’s footpaths become silent crime scenes not of murder, but of dignity killed in installments.

The question is will we continue to walk past them?

📚 Sources:

• Times of India: Street vendors speak of police extortion
• IndiaSpend: Urban Hawkers and the Hafta System
• National Policy on Urban Street Vendors (2009): [Government of India]