Sub-human conditions mar government houses allotted to staff

Cracked walls, chipped paint, and exposed plaster tell a tale of neglect. As one steps into houses allotted to government and Punjab and Haryana High Court employees, the sense of decay is overwhelming. Roofs in these government accommodations, spread across Sectors 22, 24, 27, 29, 33, and beyond, are on the verge of collapse, raining cement dust over occupants. The frames of doors and windows, once sturdy, are now ravaged by termites, barely held together as the cement that was meant to secure them steadily crumbles.

The wild growth surrounding the government houses is so dense and unregulated that it has become home to snakes and other dangerous creatures, leaving the employees in constant fear for their safety.

The occupants are sounding the alarm. One complaint details how multiple large cracks developed in a government house allotted in August 2019. “Finding it endangered to the lives of my family, including my wife, two daughters, and son, I made a complaint at the maintenance office in Sector 7,” the occupant states.

Legal lens on decent housing

• The crumbling government accommodations allotted to staff not only reflect administrative neglect but also constitute a glaring violation of Article 21 of the Constitution, which guarantees the right to life and personal liberty. The Supreme Court has consistently interpreted this right expansively, holding that it encompasses the right to live with dignity, ensuring access to basic necessities such as safe shelter, clean drinking water, and a hygienic environment (Francis Coralie Mullin vs Union Territory of Delhi, 1981).
• In cases like “Olga Tellis vs Bombay Municipal Corporation (1985)”, the court reaffirmed that the right to life is not confined to mere survival but includes the right to live in conditions conducive to health and well-being.
• The state’s duty under Article 21, further bolstered by its obligations under the Directive Principles of State Policy, includes the provision of safe and habitable shelter. The neglect in addressing the grave structural and health hazards contravenes established jurisprudence that views decent housing as a component of the right to life.

Expressing apprehension regarding “any untoward incident can happen any time”, the occupant adds action has not been taken despite officials’ visits. The urgency of the situation, he says, is highlighted by foul-smelling water seeping through the walls.

Washrooms, a basic necessity, have descended into a cesspool of unhygienic chaos. The stench hits first—an unholy mixture of filth and decay. The once-bright bathroom doors now hang on broken hinges, while the tiles, a mismatched array of any colour the repairmen could find, resemble a careless puzzle. Peeling paint hastily slapped over old layers is visible, only making things worse. In some washrooms, pipes are exposed. “Woes, and not water, flow out of the taps,” quips a peon residing in Sector 22.

The kitchens fare no better. Broken floor tiles, like jagged pieces of a once-whole structure, offer a constant hazard. The sinks are filled with debris—remnants of half-hearted attempts to maintain some semblance of functionality. In many cases, entire kitchen doors are missing, leaving gaps that invite not just the wind but a feeling of abandonment. These are not just houses but crumbling remnants of homes that were once meant to provide shelter and comfort to the hardworking staff of the most prestigious institutions in the region.

“The condition is nothing short of sub-human,” shares a staff member who has lived in these quarters for over three years. “We’ve made repeated complaints, but the only response we ever get is a haphazard patch-up job — tiles of any colour thrown together, broken pipes left unrepaired, and the same peeling paint hiding nothing but more decay.” The frustration in their voice is palpable. “These aren’t homes anymore, just structures that are collapsing in a slow motion.”

Another occupant adds, “The irony is stark. These accommodations, meant for government staff, are expected to reflect a certain standard. But step inside, and it’s a far cry from that expectation. We are supposed to facilitate the government in its functioning but are left fighting for basic human living conditions.”

Shoddy repair work has only added to the mess. An attempt at covering up the damage — mismatched tiles, pipes left exposed, and cement falling from ceiling — has rendered these homes more dangerous than they were before. One family shared how they’ve resorted to securing door frames with makeshift props, fearing a collapse.

“The filth and neglect in these houses are a direct contrast to the image of governance that one expects from the authorities concerned. These homes, scattered across sectors, stand as silent witnesses to the larger issue of how those tasked with serving the system are themselves being denied basic rights to a dignified living. In an environment where cleanliness and structural safety are non-negotiable, the current state of affairs is a glaring injustice. The staff, like any other citizen, deserves homes that are safe, clean, and liveable. Instead, what they are getting are hollow promises and collapsing roofs,” says a UT employee.