The Hindu Business Line : Where the only banking consumers are women

At Panasaguda village in the Kashipur block of Rayagada district in Western Orissa, as the tribal villagers complain about their sorry plight... depleting land, lack of employment opportunities and scarce food resources, one asks them if anybody has a bank account in the village. Surprisingly the answer is a vigorous... and proud... `Yes'. There are three women's self-help groups (SHGs) in this one-street village with 95 families, and "they have bank accounts."

Kuni Majhi is the president and Simduni Majhi is the secretary of an 11-member group that was formed three years ago. Proudly they produce the group's State Bank of India passbook; they have over Rs 16,000 in their account. But strangely enough, apart from lending a paltry Rs 200 or 300 to group members at a staggering 36 per cent interest, which goes back into the group coffers, no group member has taken a loan for an economic activity.

When asked why, Kuni says bluntly, "How can we trust anybody? Supposing they take the money and don't return it, what can we do? And anyway, what business option is available here," she asks.

When you suggest that a small teashop could be opened, Simduni, with a baby at her waist, says: "Where is the time for all that? We have to go for coolie work, when it is available, in the morning."

When one persists that a teashop would be more profitable, she shoots back: "And what do you think the rest of the family will tell me, if I were to open a teashop, where no physical work is required? They'd say I'm lazy, sit the whole day in the teashop and take food without working for it."

When quizzed on their men's response to the group and its monthly meetings, Simduni says, "Why should they have a problem? In fact, when they while away their time, or come home drunk, we bash them up."

So much for women's power in a tribal situation. Badal Kumar Tah, a local activist, says women have a very strong position in tribal households. "They don't take any nonsense from their husbands; in fact, I've seen tribal women kicking their husbands," he says, adding in a lighter vein, "I should know; I'm married to a tribal woman!"

But there is no denying a woman's importance in a tribal society, mainly because she is extremely hardworking and therefore an asset. A woman's normal day begins at 3 a.m. in tribal villages; after completing household chores such as fetching water and firewood, pounding rice, etc, she sets out for daily wage labour, sometimes walking a few kilometres to the neighbouring villages where work is available. We found a few women near Kashipur town who work in the homes of the local contractors or moneylenders for a paltry monthly wage of Rs 150.

In these villages it is not uncommon to see women working in the fields, while the men smoke beedis. Small wonder then that female foeticide, the scourge of "the other India" has no presence here.

In fact, this must be a rare district in the country where the female-male ratio is heavily loaded in favour of the girl child — 1,023 girls to 1,000 boys! "I suspect that in some tribal villages, it could be as high as 1,050 girls to 1,000 boys," says Badal.

"When the other India is doing foeticide and infanticide, these people are happier with a girl child because women have value in a tribal community. They say the woman is a life giver and takes care of the whole earth."

Luckily, in this society, the disparity between men and women is not too great and men do not balk at doing "female chores" such as tending to the children.

But alcoholism is a growing problem here. In tribal communities women consume alcohol too, but it is always limited to special occasions such as festivals, celebrations or mourning. "I've lived here for 20 years and find alcoholism has increased and liquor bhattis have proliferated. Most of them have no livelihood security, living standards are deteriorating, and frustration is growing. The matriculate or the graduates have no jobs and the community is asking: `We gave you a chance to study, what have you done with that'," says Badal.

Dire economic conditions and displacement from their lands, acquired by the government to be leased to mining companies — this area is rich in bauxite deposits — has resulted in migration of tribal men to urban areas for road cutting, earth excavation, telephone cable laying and other coolie work.

In Rayagada, entire colonies of Kashipur tribals have come in and food and livelihood insecurity has resulted in young tribal women marrying older men from urban areas. "Quite often they are ditched after marriage... sometimes there is no marriage either, and the women end up in the flesh trade," says Badal.

He adds that all that the tribals want is to be left alone. "They say we don't want anything from the government, but just leave us alone. If you can, give us water through planned irrigation; if you can't, leave us alone. We've lived on land for centuries and will manage on our own."

But with rich mineral and metal resources, which administration is going to heed their call?

Response may be sent to rasheeda@thehindu.co.in

Picture by the author

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