Inside Tamil Nadu’s textile factories where women reel under harsh summer heat

“I fainted on the garment factory floor yesterday.”

That’s how Thivya Rakini, a trade union leader and worker rights advocate, began recounting her visit to a garment factory in Dindigul. She had gone to meet women workers suffering from heat rashes, dizzy spells, and extreme exhaustion. But two hours in, Thivya collapsed inside the factory.

A worker had to pour water over her head to revive her.

“I had eaten, stayed hydrated, and was wearing breathable cotton. Still, I couldn’t withstand the heat,” she says. “But these women work here for nine hours a day, under intense production pressure, wrapped in synthetic uniforms.” Using a temperature monitoring device, Thivya recorded the floor temperature at 38.6°C—a photo she shared on a post on LinkedIn that quickly went viral, shocking people.

As Tamil Nadu endures longer summers and more frequent heatwaves, women in the State’s garment and textile factories are among the hardest hit. Inside these factories, long hours, poor ventilation, synthetic uniforms, and punishing production targets have created conditions where heat is not just uncomfortable—it’s a health crisis.

Inside the factories, asbestos roofs amplify the sun’s intensity, turning workspaces into “pressure cookers.” “We wear bras, blouses, sarees, caps, and masks in 40°C heat for more than eight hours. It feels like being locked inside a pressure cooker at a high flame,” says Rita, a 36-year-old garment worker in Dindigul.

Yet, most factories lack basic heat monitoring. “Standing all day in this high heat makes my legs give up on me; I feel like I could just collapse to the ground any minute, especially by afternoon. I sweat so much my dress gets drenched and starts to stink. I feel dirty in my own body. But there’s no break, no time to even wipe the sweat off my face,” says Baby, a garment worker from Erode.

Production targets remain relentless—1,000 garments per day in many factories—even as the heat intensifies. Workers report a lack of access to clean drinking water. Bathroom breaks are tightly controlled. “If I go to the toilet, when I come back, my table is loaded with garment pieces, and I’ll be yelled at. So, I hold in my urge, to avoid being scolded. I hardly drink water—only when I feel like fainting, I drink a little,” says Vanitha, a 39-year-old garment worker from Dindigul.

Many skip meals because “the lunch we bring gets spoiled in this heat. The management knows this but we still must work long hours and deliver,” says Lakshmi, a 30-year-old spinning mill worker. Workers also report increased instances of vaginal infections, skin rashes, and menstrual complications. “When the heat rises, I notice an increase in white discharge. It comes with itching and a burning sensation in that area. Sometimes, even urinating becomes painful. My stomach starts cramping too. I know many other women face the same issues, but no one talks about it openly. We just silently endure it,” says Kavitha, a 25-year-old garment worker from Tiruppur.

Sounding the alarm

Doctors and occupational health experts warn that prolonged heat exposure worsens conditions such as anaemia, hypertension, and menstrual disorders. Dehydration and heat stress can also lead to chronic fatigue, kidney strain, and loss of concentration.

“We’ve seen a noticeable rise in heat-related health issues among women workers over the past two years,” says Ms. Rakini, State president of the Tamil Nadu Textile and Common Labour Union. “This April alone, I received reports of around 30 women suffering from a range of heat-induced health problems—including heat rashes, painful piles, increased white vaginal discharge, and severe pain during urination.”

She adds, “Underreporting of heat-related illnesses is extremely common, which means the actual scale of harm is likely much higher. Many workers only come forward when the condition becomes unbearable.”

Sylvia Karpagam, a public and community health doctor and researcher, agrees that exposure to extreme heat is an occupational hazard, but it can be challenging to link it directly to health outcomes. However, she says, heat exposure can be particularly harmful for women, who face additional risks due to cultural clothing norms, domestic responsibilities like cooking with polluting fuels, and inadequate workplace facilities such as toilets and access to drinking water—factors that heighten the risk of dehydration, infections, and long-term complications like kidney damage. “There is an urgent need for reliable documentation of occupational hazards in India and companies/factories held accountable,” she adds.

For many, the symptoms don’t appear until after leaving the factory. “Heat exhaustion is slow and insidious—its impact can be both in the short-term and in the long-term. Unlike common occupational accidents and injuries, the physical results of heat exhaustion like dizziness, nausea, and fainting, might happen even after a worker reaches home,” explains Rajalakshmi Ramprakash, a public health expert affiliated with the World Health Organization (WHO).

Productivity loss

As temperatures climb, productivity inevitably declines. Extreme heat slows workers down, increases errors, and makes it harder to focus on the task at hand. For piece-rate workers, this translates directly into lost income. Yet factory owners often misread these effects as laziness or lack of discipline.

“In our factory, taking time to rest is treated like a weakness,” says Thangamani, a 33-year-old garment worker in Erode. “Even sitting down for a few minutes or slowly drinking cold water is seen as a luxury we haven’t earned. They want us to keep moving—no matter how hot it gets.”

Low wages compound the problem by limiting access to both preventive and emergency healthcare. “I work nine hours in the factory, travel two hours to and from work, and earn just around ₹10,000 a month. I know the heat and the working conditions are making my health worse, but what choice do I have?” says Kesavalli, a 27-year-old worker from Erode. With so little income, many workers are unable to afford proper nutrition, take time off to rest or recover, or seek timely medical treatment.

Even though many are covered under the Employees’ State Insurance (ESI) scheme—a critical social protection meant to provide low-cost healthcare—workers say they avoid using it unless absolutely necessary. “The ESI hospital is far from the factory, the queues are long, and we’re not treated well,” explains Kesavalli. “So, unless it’s very serious, we just go to a nearby private clinic and pay whatever we can.”

As a result, workers are left in a constant cycle of heat-related illness, lost income, and mounting medical costs—without adequate support from either the health system or their employers.

The factory response

Global fashion brands—mostly headquartered in the Global North—place high-volume, last-minute orders with extremely tight delivery deadlines, pushing factories in countries like India to ramp up production at any cost. To keep prices low and remain competitive, suppliers often have no choice but to enforce gruelling work hours, speed up production lines, and skip rest breaks—even during extreme heat. This just-in-time production model leaves no space for adapting work schedules to rising temperatures or ensuring basic protections for workers on the factory floor.

“But it’s the brands that set the pace and profit the most—they should be responsible for basic infrastructure,” says Ms. Vanitha. “If brands helped install cooling systems or provided support for heat-protective measures, then at least suppliers could manage the running costs. Instead, they keep demanding more—faster production, higher compliance—but never invest anything back into the conditions we work in. We’re the ones paying the price.”

“This is the double standard,” says Lavinia Muth, steering committee member of the German Partnership for Sustainable Textiles (PST), a German government-led multi-stakeholder initiative working to improve conditions in global textile supply chains. “Brands proudly advertise their sustainability goals, modern slavery pledges, and top-tier ESG ratings in the Global North—while the women sewing their clothes in the Global South are collapsing from heat and denied even the most basic rights, like access to water or a break.”

On the factory floor, workers say the response from the factory management often swings between denial and token gestures. “If we tell them the fan isn’t working, they say, ‘So you won’t work if there’s no fan?’ That’s how they treat us—as if we’re machines,” says Thangamani, a garment worker in Erode.

A human resources manager at one such factory, speaking on condition of anonymity, admitted to the structural limits:

“Heat has always been part of factory work; it’s nothing new. We’re already providing fans and drinking water, but expecting something like air conditioning for thousands of workers across our facilities just isn’t realistic. We’re not producing high-value luxury goods where margins allow for that kind of infrastructure. Our profits simply aren’t enough to sustain such large-scale expenses—we just don’t have the resources for it.”

The State’s role

Heat Action Plans (HAPs) in Tamil Nadu largely ignore factory and informal workers, focusing on hospitals and urban residents. Climate action plans remain suggestive documents with no enforceable guidelines or dedicated funds for worker protection. Occupational safety laws rarely include climate-specific provisions or heat-related protocols.

V. Pugazhenthi M.E., Joint Director, Dindigul, Directorate of Industrial Health and Safety, said, “We have instructed factories to provide sufficient chilled water, buttermilk, lime juice and instructed the management to not expose workers in mid noon to the direct sun. Every factory has windows, fans and ventilation. If you know of any factories [violating these norms], please tell us and we will take action.”

Yet, workers say these instructions rarely translate into reality. “Let us wash our faces and hands every few hours. Give us cold water or buttermilk during the afternoon heat. Add thermocol (polystyrene) sheets on the roof to block the sun. There are simple, low-cost solutions,” says Tamilarasi, a 28-year-old garment worker in Erode.

Rights-based approach

Protecting these workers is not a marginal welfare issue—it lies at the heart of India’s constitutional commitments, including Article 21 (Right to Life with Dignity) and Article 42 (Provision for Just and Humane Conditions of Work). There is an urgent need for enforceable workplace protections: mandated rest breaks, access to drinking water, shaded areas, improved factory design, and regular temperature monitoring. Heat stress guidelines must be formally integrated into labour inspections and factory compliance standards. Investing in climate-resilient infrastructure and sharing the costs of protecting workers from extreme heat must become a core obligation of responsible business—not an optional add-on.

Trade unions and worker representatives must play a central role in shaping and implementing these protections. Social dialogue—between employers, unions, workers and the government—must form the backbone of how such safeguards are created, monitored, and improved over time.

But these responsibilities cannot rest on factories and governments alone.

Global brands—whose purchasing practices directly determine production intensity, delivery timelines, and workplace conditions—should not be allowed to outsource responsibility for the consequences. When their supply chains operate in regions increasingly affected by climate breakdown, brands must move beyond audits and voluntary codes of conduct to meaningful commitments that guarantee safe and dignified working conditions.

Crucially, our laws must align with emerging global standards on human rights due diligence—mandating that brands share legal responsibility with supplier factories for working conditions and are held accountable through binding supply chain regulations. Without such frameworks, brands will continue to profit from a system in which risk is pushed downward, and the most marginalised workers—especially women—bear the brunt of both climate and economic shocks.

Anything less than decisive, rights-based action will leave India’s workers to shoulder the cost of a crisis they did not cause—with their health, their income, and their lives. And in the long run, inaction will not only deepen inequality but also erode productivity and derail India’s path toward a just, climate-resilient future.

(Nandita Shivakumar is a researcher specialising in gender justice and sustainability practices in fashion supply chains. Apekshita Varshney is the founder of HeatWatch, a non-profit addressing the intersection of extreme heat, labour rights, and health justice.)