grassroots

A journal of the Press Institute of India promoting reportage on the human condition
February 15, 2013

Bagfuls of nutrition from a women-run unit

There is very little that distinguishes the hamlet of Madri from the innumerable others that dot southern Rajasthan. This is a region where the Aravallis make their presence felt in gnarled hillocks, where water is scarce and where the land yields its harvests grudgingly. People here, including toddlers, know well the edge of hunger. But making a difference is a factory in Banswara, run by the Shitala Mata Womens Self Help Group. It ensures that the nutritious food it produces reaches 7000 children and 3000 pregnant women and lactating mothers every month through a network of 172 government-run anganwadis
pamela philipOse, Banswara (Rajasthan)

grassroots
Ranjani has also started giving the anganwadi children a nutritious food supplement as take-home rations. Its actually a mix of soya bean flour, channa dal flour, wheat and a little sugar, and the kids seem to like it, she smiles. This nutritious supplement has its own story to tell. It comes to Ranjanis anganwadi from a factory in Banswara, run by a local women self help group (SHG). In fact, it reaches 7000 children and around 3000 pregnant and lactating mothers every month through a network of 172 government-run anganwadis. The Banswara unit, which was set up in September 2011, now produces one metric ton of this supplement every day. The model is a useful one since it combines two potentially transformational interventions a regular nutritional supplement for children age between six and 36 months and pregnant and lactating mothers, as well as the generation of sustainable employment for rural women coming from poor households. The supplement, which goes under the label of RajNutriMix, has been developed by the World Food Programme (WFP) in partnership with the Global Alliance for Improved Nutrition (GAIN), and in consultation with the Government of Rajasthan. It complies with the Supreme Courts guidelines on the promotion of decentralised production of supplementary food for supply under the Integrated Child Development Scheme (ICDS) as well as the Apex Courts stipulations on the daily intake for vulnerable women and children. Under the project, a take-home ration of 990 grams of RajNutriMix per week for pregnant women and lactating mothers as well as severely and acutely malnourished children and 822 grams per week for all other children below the age of three years, is provided. The raw materials for the supplement are procured locally and the production process is completely mechanised. They are first cleaned or the making of agarbattis (incense sticks), pickles and papads. This seems to have been achieved in the Banswara unit. Today, the 12 factory managers/workers, all members of the local Shitala Mata Womens Self
Photo: GAIN

INSIDE

He lends you a helping hand to help yourself

hen Ranjani Ashok, 54, who runs the anganwadi (nursery) in this village perched on the border that separates Dungarpur and Banswara Districts serves her charges their small helping

How a mid-day meal can light up young lives 3

Where are the poor, missing children? Across a borderland: Chronicles of trafcking

4 5

Photos: WFS

Members of the Shitala Mata Womens Self Help Group weighing and filling bags of RajNutrimix, a fortified blended food in their factory in Banswara. This is what Ranjani Ashok has been giving her children lately.
in a specially designed unit and then roasted. Grinding comes next, followed by the final mixing, with essential micro-nutrients added at this stage. For the convenience of the beneficiaries, the ration for the entire month is given in one go, as one sealed bag. Each of these bags has four sealed weekly ration packets. We discovered that producing this supplement is a perfect fit because it addresses two urgent needs: an uninterrupted supply of nutritive food and a regular source of income for poor rural households. The women working in the unit can, through this process, earn at least what they would on a MGNREGA site, and that too for 300 days in a year, says Nikhil Raj of WFP, who coordinates the project. One of the aims of the intervention is, in fact, to consolidate the local SHG network and get women members to go beyond the usual micro-lending Help Group, supervise and run the operations of the unit. These are ordinary rural Rajasthani women with just a few years of schooling. Most are aged anywhere between 30 and 40 years, although there is an 18-year-old and a 60year-old on the team. They have undergone three rounds of training, and were involved in the process from its inception. In fact, they even observed the machinery of the plant being installed. They are capable of procuring the best raw materials locally, keeping accounts, managing machines, maintaining registers and attendance rolls, as well as making wage calculations and doing the banking. Wages, incidentally, are deposited directly into banks to avoid any possibility of funds being siphoned away. (Continued on page 4)

Ranjani Ashok, 54, runs the anganwadi in Madri Village in southern Rajasthan. Of late, she has started giving the anganwadi children a nutritious food supplement, a mix of soya bean our, channa dal our, wheat and a little sugar, as take home rations.
of khichdi (gruel of rice and lentil), it disappears in a trice. The children in Ranjanis anaganwadi are not picky eaters. Unlike well-fed children from prosperous city neighbourhoods, these children eat pretty much whatever is served to them, unless they happen to have a fever. In most homes children are given a roti or two, with barely any dal or vegetable to go with it, observes the spry anganwadi worker. Of late,

Foreigners in your own land?

Providing one meal a day delivering a lifeline 7 Child rights defenders in a conict zone 8 Change at the grassroots tribal women show the way 9

grassroots
A journal of the Press Institute of India promoting the human condition

February 15, 2013

FOCUS

grassroots
Homes on the lines of SOS villages have been set up to house visually challenged students from all parts of Tamil Nadu. They are provided free board and lodge for the duration of their education. Also, partnering with a senior paediatric cardiac surgeon, Udavum Karnagal offers free transit accommodation for poor children from remote areas needing heart surgeries in Chennai. A tie-up with a city hospital to provide boarding and lodging for children with cleft palates who need extended surgical care and therapy is being worked out. The School on Wheels marks a significant milestone on the path of motivating society to take care of its own. It was started as an outreach programme for the children of migrant labourers from states like Andhra Pradesh and Orissa. Two teachers,

He lends you a helping hand to help yourself

Today, Udavum Karangal is a multi-tasker in community service. It is a home for the unwanted and the orphaned. It is a shelter for the mentally challenged. It is a source of solace for the destitute and the dying. It is a haven for societys rejects, the HIV-infected and the spastics. It is also a stepping stone to mainstream life for those who want to use it as such. And the person behind it: Paapa Vidyaakar
susan philip, Chennai

y name is Pavai Vidyaakar. My name is Champa Vidyaakar. My name is Rakhi Vidyaakar. The list goes on, as a long crocodile of happily chattering children pour in through the gate. Theyre back from school, and like any child, the sight of their Pappa puts a spring in their steps and a sparkle in their eyes. But these are no ordinary children. Nor is it an ordinary home. This is Shantivanam, a unit of Udavum Karangal (Helping Hands), a social service NGO. Every single child who calls this home carries the surname Vidyaakar, and thus has an identity something so important to every human being. Vidyaakar is a bachelor technically speaking, but is Pappa to them all, and also to a motley group of adults, young, middle-aged and old, many of whom dont know much about themselves or their biological families, but who unerringly recognise him as a source of security and love and through him, find kinship in people with whom they share no blood ties. Vidyaakars life has been well documented over the years. Suffice it to say here that the low-profile, reticent man he was

Vidyaakar with teachers Shalini and Neelam and a staff member, against the backdrop of a painting on a bus used in the School on Wheels outreach programme.
then could not have dreamed of the shape of things to come way back in 1983 when he held out his arms for a scrap of humanity found abandoned in a cinema theatre. That ten-monthold boy was the first of many babies whom Vidyaakar has rescued and nurtured as his own. I am inspired by Mother Teresa, says Vidyaakar. She showed how

social work can be done from the heart, done with passion. It can also be done professionally, using techniques that have developed and evolved over the years. I have tried to combine both in my organisation. Vidyaakar completed his masters in Social Work from the Madras School of Social Work and went on to acquire other qualifications, such as a diploma in Psychiatric Counseling from CMC Vellore, and work experience, including a stint at the Institute of Mental Health, Chennai. Starting with a thatched hut in an insalubrious slum as base, Udavum Karangal has grown into a multi-unit organisation with branches in other places in Tamil Nadu, and chapters in the UK and USA. In Chennai itself, there are many centres and branch organisations such as a school and several training centres. Shantivanam, an oasis of peace in the harried bustle that is Chennai, is appropriately named. Within its walls, many women and children who have experienced unconscionable horrors which have left them battered and broken, have found the courage to face life with hope again. Vidyaakar has a team of dedicated, qualified people to care for his family. There are psychiatrists and psychologists, social workers and paramedical staff. They work with house mothers and other concerned people and treat, counsel and guide the troubled, traumatized and mentally challenged into better lives. Many of the women at Shantivanam are psychiatric patients. Some have recovered fully, some partially. Many others are disabled, some significantly, others less severely. There are spastic and multi-handicapped women and children who need to be looked after as carefully as newborns. Those who can, care for others less fortunate. Ours is an interdependent society, stresses Vidyaakar. In a normal home, the parents care for the children and encourage them to take on responsibilities and become independent. Ours is a different set up. We are dependent on society, and must take care of each other. Udavum Karangal is funded entirely by public contribution. It doesnt do any aggressive fund-raising, nor does it go after publicity and government

grants. But contributions in cash and kind come in regularly, and are put to good use. The buildings housing the different groups in Shantivanam are all spacious and airy, and scrupulously clean without being aseptic in an institutional way. There is a feeling of home everywhere, and camaraderie among the residents, young and old, fit and unfit. Everyone wants a word with Pappa and Pappa gives everyone a patient hearing, addressing each by name, joking with some, asking a concerned question of another, drawing yet another out to talk about her feelings. Adding to the atmosphere is Shantivanams gardens and well-laid out play areas for children, complete with swings and slides. They grow some of their own vegetables too. And then there are the animals. They are therapeutic as well as functional. There are ornamental fish, dogs, cows, goats, hens, rabbits and even a donkey named Karuppiah. Ganesh, who was rescued when he was seven months old with burn injuries after his mother committed suicide, has a way with animals though he couldnt cope with his lessons very well. He and some of the less mentally-challenged women find fulfilment in taking care of the animals, all of which they address by name. So far, 48 girls have been given in marriage to people outside the Udavum Karangal family. One of them, picked up when she was just about a year old, along with her mother, a psychiatric patient, is a trained ophthalmic nurse while her husband holds an MBA degree. She is back at Shantivanam now for her confinement, and Vidyaakar is a Grandpappa. A sense of happiness and peace pervades the campus. It is a far cry from the hut in the slums where the story began. Nor has the story ended. But it is slowly changing direction, in keeping with changing needs and perceptions. We do not take in abandoned babies anymore, says Vidyaakar. Instead, they are referred to certified adoption agencies. This is because there is a genuine demand for adoption. Only babies born to psychiatric patients on campus are kept and looked after, as Vidyaakar believes there is a possibility of the

Photos: Susan Philip

Vidyaakar, who established Udavum Karangal, says he is inspired by Mother Teresa. His heart drtives him in his work, as does passion and even new techniques. At Shantivanam, animals provide therapeutic and functional relief.
mother recovering, or of the child ultimately assuming responsibility for the mother. Also, Udavum Karangal is increasingly trying to encourage families to be responsible for the care of their mentally challenged members. We go to villages, identify people with problems, and help the families, the society, to care for them, says Vidyaakar. It is easy to pass the burden to us, but that cant be a permanent solution. Many of these problems are created by society, and it is up to society to provide the answer too. Screening programmes are regularly held and children with learning disabilities and problems such as muscular dystrophy are identified. Their families are advised how to care for them. A community health centre has been opened, where anyone can receive treatment. The focus is also on equipping the underprivileged to cope with life. Training centres offer courses in nursing, tailoring and computers, helping young men and women to arm themselves with qualifications that will get them a reasonably good start in life. Shalini and Neelam, both recovered psychiatric patients, are the teachers, and immensely proud of their work. They go to three sites, and teach 30 children in each for three hours every day, six days a week. The programme begins by giving the children, aged below 7, a good oil bath. Once theyre clean, theyre taught the three Rs for an hour. Theyre also given a glass of milk, and then the teachers talk to the parents about their concerns. The original idea was that the children would have their classes in the bus. But the construction company was so enthused about the scheme that they now provide space on their site for the classes, pay the teachers a salary, and also provide snacks for the children. It has become their project, not ours, says Vidyaakar. Hundreds of children have studied and come up in these 30 years, he says. A couple of them are now in charge of our centres. Many are working in good organisations, and support us. Some are in moderate jobs, others work as shop assistants or maids. I dont measure their success in terms of their occupation, but in terms of being self-reliant, and being able to support others. <

F e b r u ary 15, 2013

grassroots
A journal of the Press Institute of India promoting the human condition

How a mid-day meal can light up young lives

grassroots

Its a meal that matters. In Jodhpur, thanks to the Mid Day Meal Scheme, children in Classes 1 to 5 get 12 grams of protein and 450 calories and those in Classes 6 to 8 get 20 grams of protein and 700 calories every day. Its a scheme that runs even during summer holidays and in times of drought. The meal is not only an incentive for children to come to school, it is also the only wholesome meal they get on any given day. More than 3.5 lakh students have benefited from the scheme. They have learnt to eat with a spoon and respect food. And as the children sit and eat together, there are no caste barriers
neena bhandari, Jodhpur
s the clock chimes 11 am, Neetu Yadav, 10, and her classmates eyes turn expectantly from the blackboard to the school gates. As the roar of the autorickshaw carrying their mid-day

and her mother does odd stitching jobs to supplement the meagre family income. So what do children like Neetu eat before coming to school? Does India really need the Mid Day Meal

Children sharing the mid-day meal. For innumerable children in the desert city of Jodhpur, the meal is the only wholesome one they get on any given day.
meal grows louder, the 35 students at the government-run Rajkya Prathmik Vidyalaya, Ghanchiyon ki Gufa, Saraswati Nagar, erupt into a loud cheer. Jodhpur, located in the vast Thar Desert of western Rajasthan, is the states second largest city, with a population of around 3.68 million (2011 Census). The city prides itself on its educational institutions and the average literacy here is 81.56 per cent with female literacy registering 73.93 per cent. Impressive figures, given that average literacy rate in the state is 67 per cent. Thats the reason an initiative like the Mid Day Meal Scheme assumes so much importance here. No one can put it better than little Neetu. The meal is certainly an incentive for me to come to school, she says with a beaming smile. A Class V student, she particularly loves the khichadi (dal and rice cooked together with spices) on todays menu. Her parents, who were once farmers in Bihar, migrated to the city in search of work. Her father is employed in a steel factory Scheme? Neetu can only have tea and a couple of Glucose biscuits before setting out for school. For her, and for innumerable others like her, the midday meal is the only wholesome meal they get on any given day. At Rajkya Prathmik Vidyalaya, Saraswati Nagar, 54 students are enrolled, but an average of 35 students attend each day. Principal Beena Tiwari determines the amount of food required for the mid-day meal on the basis of the previous days attendance and she tastes the meal before serving it to the children. In the adjoining Rajkya Prathmik Vidyalaya, Madhuban Housing Board, children sit in rows on the cemented platform at the schools entrance, as teacher Mooli Tolani is helped by some older students in carrying the food containers and serving the meal to the 84 students present. At 11 am, this is a sight replicated across the 467 schools in Jodhpur located within a 26-kilometre radius, which are provided food directly from a centralised kitchen. Other schools

have their own kitchen, utensils and cook, depending on the number of enrolments. According to official records, a total of 353661 students in the 4052 government schools in Jodhpur District have benefited from the Mid Day Meal Scheme in December 2011. Talking to other children, most of who live in small rented rooms in the citys narrow by-lanes, a similar story unfolds. If it werent for the mid-day meal, Class V student at the Rajkya Prathmik Vidyalaya, Madhuban Housing Board, Kanchan Yadav, 12, who has five siblings, would go hungry most times. But Kanchan, and her friend, Pushpa Kumari, 11, would like milk to be included in some form in their meal, either as kheer (rice pudding) or as a wheat and milk porridge or as chhach (a yogurt drink with salt and jeera). Milk, fruits and dal (lentil) are markedly absent in the normal diet of these children. Under the Mid Day Meal Scheme, there is provision for only one fruit per child per week. With dal presently costing Rs 80 a kilo and milk anywhere between Rs 20 and Rs 25 a litre, most families can afford to cook one seasonal vegetable and buy milk sufficient only for tea. Some children are a little fortunate. We have milk with a spoonful of ghee and bread for breakfast. My father pays a monthly sum to the kirana (grocery) store so we can pick up a packet of Maggi noodles on the way home from school to have with afternoon tea, says Panchu Singh Rawat, 14. He is the eldest of four children, all studying at Rajkya Prathmik Vidyalaya, Madhuban Housing Board. The food provided under the National Programme of Nutritional Support to Primary Education commonly known as the Mid Day Meal Scheme is customised to local taste. When the scheme was launched on August 15, 1995, students were given ghughari (boiled wheat porridge with jaggery). Since 2002, cooked meals are being provided comprising a set menu of local favourities dal-bati, dal-roti, roti-sabzi, sweet or savoury rice and khichadi, on a weekly rotational basis. Approximately Rs 6 per child per day is spent by the government

on each meal, with the Central Government contributing 75 per cent, and the state picking up the rest of the tab. Costs are kept down by using subsidised food grains from the public distribution system (PDS). Under the

of our children. One balanced meal every day has reduced deficiencies of vital nutrients like vitamins and calcium, making them less susceptible to diseases, says Rohatgi. The State Medical and Health Department conducts a regular medical check-up of students, and those with deficiencies are given medical assistance as well as micro-nutrients like Vitamin A, iron, folic acid, and multi-vitamins. There is room for improvement, though. The machine made rotis from the centralised kitchen are rather stiff and the children have to eat it as biscuit or break it into pieces and soak it in dal or vegetable curry (roti chur ke). Rohatgi suggests that rather than using machines, if women are employed to make the rotis, it would not only improve the texture of the rotis, but also become a source of income for the women. Despite the occasional complaint, the efficacy of the Mid Day Meal Scheme, as a source of supplementary nutrition and a stimulus to school education, cannot be denied. According to Jodhpur District Collector Siddharth Mahajan, This has been one of the better schemes for its usefulness and effective

Photos: Neena Bhandari/WFS

Anita Rohatgi (fifth from left), principal, Rajkya Prathmik Vidyalaya, Madhuban Housing Board, Jodhpur, with students. Rohatgi feels that the one balanced meal every day, thanks to the Mid Day Meal Scheme, has reduced deficiencies of vital nutrients such as vitamins and calcium in children, making them less susceptible to diseases.
PDS, wheat that is sold at Rs 21 per kilo in the open market is priced at Rs 4.15 and rice otherwise sold at Rs 25 is subsidised to Rs 5.65 per kilo. The cooking conversion cost, which includes fuel, oil and spices, of 100 grams of wheat/rice given to every Class 1 to 5 student per meal is Rs 2.89, while the cooking conversion cost of 150 grams of wheat/rice given to each Class 6 to 8 student per meal is Rs 4.33. The Mid Day Meal Scheme has brought several benefits in its wake. Anita Rohatgi, principal, Rajkya Prathmik Vidyalaya, Madhuban Housing Board, makes an interesting observation, Our students have learnt to eat with a spoon and respect food. Watching the children carefully wash their hands and steel plates using mugs from water stored in buckets - in the absence of tap water in the school - qualifies her statement. She recalls a time, before this scheme was introduced, when children were less active and often fell ill. The scheme is helping to supplement nutrients in the daily diet implementation. It has also helped break caste barriers since all the children sit and eat together. But his clinching argument is that the midday meal has emerged as a major source of nutrition for many who were getting very little to eat. Mahajan says, If there was no mid-day meal, children in Classes 1 to 5 would not be getting 12 grams of protein and 450 calories and those in Classes 6 to 8 would have been deprived of 20 grams of protein and 700 calories. Thats the reason we have been running the Mid Day Meal Scheme here, even during the summer holidays and in times of drought. <
(Courtesy: Women's Feature Service)

grassroots
A journal of the Press Institute of India promoting the human condition

February 15, 2013

Where are the poor, missing children?

shOma a. ChaTTerji, Kolkata

grassroots

here are the missing children who never return? What happens to their distraught, desperate and anguished parents? What is the responsibility of the

a 11-year-old who has been missing since November 2010. For one year, Kunwarpal is been driven from pillar to post only to be left disappointed and empty handed

The eye-catching 110002 film poster.

police in such situations? All this and more comes through in a documentary film called 110002 made by young activist-journalist Vivek Asri. 110002 is the story of Kunwarpal, father of Through Kunwarpals search for his missing child, 110002 documents the pain and misery of millions of parents such as him. It speaks about the trauma that they have to undergo

each day of their lives; they live in the hope that their loved ones would return some day. 110002 presents the melancholy of those who have lost their children. It is a story of helplessness and uncertainty. It is a tale of parents, who have no faith in their present and little hope about future, says Vivek. Why a number for a title? Explains Vivek, 110002 is the pin code in Old Delhi, the area where the office of central missing persons squad is located. This is the office where every parent of a missing child runs to, where their hopes lie and are shattered by the insensitive system. The title comes from the address of this office: Missing Persons Squad, New Police Station, Daryaganj, New Delhi 110002. The location is peopled by the lower middle-class who do not have the means to reach the media, where NGOs and social workers complain about how the sudden disappearance of a child from the family can spell eternal tragedy for the family involved. In the film, a grieving mother tells the viewer how she keeps going to the dargah and masjid (mosque) to pray while practical fathers admit they will perhaps never find their missing children because they are poor,

marginalised and completely ignored by the police. Vivek found no funding source for his film. So he made it using his savings. Arpna, the associate director, researched for nearly six months, met the parents, visited orphanages and red light areas in and around Delhi. Since it was a low budget self-financed documentary, Vivek planned to finish the shoot quickly. The film was shot in December 2011 and January 2012 mainly in Delhi, Meerut, Hapur and Bulandshahar. It won the 2nd Best Documentary Film Award at the recently held Siliguri International Short and Documentary Film Festival.

In the film, a distraught father sticking posters of his missing son.

The film focuses on the anguish of the parents and their disillusionment with the law and order system. The

visuals are flush with emotions. I am poor and that is why the police are not lifting a finger to help me. Had I been rich, the same police would have eaten out of my hands, says Kunwarpal, who says he has gone to every nook and corner of the city to look for his missing child. Says another father: If a child is dead, there is certainty in the ending. But if a child goes missing, the parents are never certain about how he is, where he is, how he is doing and whether he will come back to his parents some day. A father runs to a street tea shop where a worker says he has seen the boy in the picture working in a hotel. Another hunt begins. None of the parents ever tire of searching and waiting for their lost ones even when all hope seems lost. The police do not really care. They say they have a lot to do. They are only interested in cases that could fetch them money, complains an activist in the film. As many as 100000 children go missing every year in India. Vivek points to a study where police officers say that around 60 per cent of the cases go unreported. Even after a missing case is registered, it not considered priority. The film shows how the parents of the missing children of Daryanagar are uneducated and ignorant to know how to approach the concerned authorities, file a complaint, etc. <

Bagfuls of nutrition ....

(Continued from page 1) The change is striking, when you consider that these women had barely stepped outside their village. Their status within their own circles has grown immeasurably. Hands are washed, scarves are worn, gloves are used. They have succeeded in maintaining a system of quality control that has amazed even the lab technicians to whom we send samples of the material produced, observes Raj. The National Accreditation Board for Testing and Calibration Laboratories is involved in testing the quality of the material produced. The women have now started dreaming big. They know their plant has come to them in the form of a grant, so they have learnt to work out depreciation costs and address breakdowns promptly. They realise that if they slip up, if their product gets rejected in terms of quality, the whole project could be in jeopardy. So they make sure that all procedures are followed and everybody is on board the effort. And just to make sure this happens, almost everyone is trained in basic numeric work and administrative functions and can handle every task on the shop floor. The responsibilities are rotated to avoid drudgery, prevent hierarchies from forming and to create a cohesive work environment. Village women they may be, but each one of them now has the mien of a successful entrepreneur. The Banswara unit is the first among seven units that WFP, GAIN and the Government of Rajastan have planned. These will come up at other sites in Banswara, as also in the adjoining districts of Dungarpur, Pali and Udaipur, all of which have been identified as food-insecure ones. There are challenges of course, and training women to run the units will take effort. But once each unit takes off, its benefits are manifold. Explains Mihoko Tamamura, representative and country director, WFP India, Food insecurity impacts not just the body but the brain and general neuro-physical growth. We also know that if children dont get the right nutrients before they are two, they will never be able to catch up. This is why we see the Banswara initiative as an important one. Meanwhile, in Ranjanis anganwadi, far away in Madri village, Sita Devi almost three years old stretches her thin arms to be picked up. Large tears form in her saucer-like eyes set in a translucently pale face. The daughter of a farm labourer, malnutrition has already put its footprint on her body. Sita needs to be picked up, in every sense of the term - and quickly. And delivering proper nutrition to her is the crucial first step. <
(Courtesy: Women's Feature Service)

Media must be part of the solution, not the problem

The Network of Women in Media, India, celebrating its 10th anniversary at a national convention attended by about 80 media women from across the country, discussed various aspects of the theme, Women, Violence and the Media, over a weekend meeting in Mumbai (1-3 February 2013). A public meeting on 2 February 2013 focussed on how the news media can better report issues of women, violence and public space. Taking note of the public outrage over, and media coverage of, the recent brutal gang-rape and murder of a 23-year-old woman in Delhi, the NWMI expresses grave concern over the increasing incidence of violence against girls and women all across India, in public as well as private spaces. As women journalists, we believe it is important to recognise that the Delhi case exposed only the tip of the iceberg of gender violence, much of which does not receive adequate media or public attention. We appreciate the fact that the media responded to the gang-rape in Delhi and the public outcry that followed with prominent and largely sympathetic coverage. However, we recognise that media coverage is often a doubleedged sword. On the positive side, it increases public awareness about such crimes and puts pressure on the authorities to take action. On the negative side, incessant coverage of certain cases, particularly sensationalised cases of sexual violence, can obscure the widespread prevalence of many different forms of daily violence against women all over the country. Unless it is balanced and sensitively handled, such coverage can also be voyeuristic and titillating; it can increase the sense of vulnerability and insecurity among girls and women (including survivors of such violence), and lead to restrictions on their freedom and rights. In addition, some of the media coverage in the immediate aftermath of the gang-rape in Delhi provoked and amplified strident calls for harsher punishments for such crimes capital punishment, chemical castration, and so on despite the fact that most womens groups with long experience in dealing with gender violence have consistently cautioned against such knee-jerk reactions that could worsen the situation. We recall the thousands of girls and women all over the country who have been physically, sexually, psychologically abused and injured or killed. As journalists, we urge the media to pay due attention to sexual violence perpetrated on Dalits and Adivasis, as well as women in militarised zones, where security forces are granted impunity by law. We renew our commitment to working towards ensuring that media coverage of violence against women is more sensitive and nuanced, enabling victims and survivors to get justice in an environment where women feel safe and can exercise their right to equal citizenship. < Network of Women in Media.

Fe b r u ary 15, 201 3

grassroots
A journal of the Press Institute of India promoting the human condition

Across a borderland: Chronicles of trafficking

This excerpt from a recent book trains the light on the tragic phenomenon of trafficking across the Bengal-Bangladesh border

grassroots

omen from Bangladesh are largely trafficked to India. From India they might then be taken to Pakistan or the Middle East. In a research by Sanlaap, in two

The report clearly states, the rate of trafficking in Changrabandha is remarkably higher than Dinbazar. The red-light area of Changrabandha is adjacent to the Bangladesh border

The cover page of Paula Banerjee and Anasua Basu's book, which describes how women are trafficked like commodities, and how they are at the mercy of criminals and the police.
red light areas of West Bengal it was revealed that most of these women migrate from one place to another. Ninety per cent of the red light areas that they have identified as places that they have worked in are situated in the states that border Bangladesh. Most of these are either in the Northeast or in West Bengal. In one particular red light area named Changrabandha about 66 per cent women said that they have come from Bangladesh. In Dinbazar many of the sex workers have said that their mothers came from Bangladesh. and women are trafficked through this border like any other commodity. Most of the women in sex work were illiterates. Many of these women entered prostitution when they were younger than 18 years of age. Most of these women came from families of either wage earners and cultivators or their mothers were sex workers as well. The mothers who are themselves sex workers find no alternative except letting their daughters take up the same profession because as children of sex workers they are stigmatised and discriminated against. They are

deprived of education or even a social environment with any promise or hope. The socio-economic profiles of sex workers of at least Dinbazaar and Changrabandha portray that these women and children did not have too many options to take up other professions. Even while in the profession their lives are never secure. Basically there are three to four modes of operation. They can work independently, or on contract basis or even under a madam. Women in the third category had to give up all their earnings to the madam, and they were given room, food and some other necessities in lieu of their payments. Even on contract basis they give half of their payments to madams. The best of them earn about Rs 5000 per month. This takes care of their necessities and their children. Some of them even send money home. Their insecurity is portrayed by the fact that they are trafficked often from one centre to another. These women are at the mercy of both criminals and the police. Being near the border often they are forced to give shelter to criminals from either Bangladesh or India. Also, the police use them for sex without any payment. They often cater to truckers crossing zero point and to attract them they take to the roads. There are cases where women who are brought from Bangladesh to the metropolitan towns in India face tremendous brutality. One such case is that of Hamida, a young Bangladeshi girl, who was brought to India at the age of 10. She suffered a series of brutal rapes at the hands of the man who brought her to New Delhi, along with some of his friends who were Delhi policemen . Only one of the accused men has served jail time. That this is a region of extreme insecurity for men and women crossing the border has been dramatically portrayed by the case of one Jayanti Bala Das of Bangladesh. In January of 2003 five Bangladeshi nationals, of whom two were minor children, crossed the Indo-Bangladesh border and entered India. The Border Security Force (BSF) arrested them from a Baro Bridge across the Ichhamati River. The area in which the incident took place is under the jurisdiction of the Basirhat Police Station in the North 24 Parganas. The Bangladeshi nationals including one Jayanti Bala Das were all taken to the Soladana BSF camp at around 5 pm on the same night (10 January 2003) one BSF personnel allegedly raped Jayanti Bala. Thereafter, these infiltrators were put in a small boat with holes and

efforts were made to push them back. Allegedly, when the boatman refused to go he was threatened at the point of a gun. The boat capsized in the middle of the river and only Jayanti Bala and her one-year-old son could save themselves. On 13 January the villagers of Bagundi, who had given her shelter,

warrants against five BSF men. In July, Jayanti was handed over to the Sromojibi Mahila Samity for safe custody and on 15 September 2003 a writ petition was filed on her behalf. The cases are still pending. Jayantis case reflects the situation of women who are trying to cross the border. Their status of being a foreign-born

Photo: Swapna Majumdar/WFS

Women living along the 2000-km-long porous Indo-Bangladesh border ( a long shot seen here) often end up as victims of trafficking.
handed her over to the police of Basirhat. She was charged under Section 14 of the Foreigners Act. On 21 January a dead body was found in the Brickkiln Canal in South Basirhat. The man was identified as Jayantis husband Basudev. When a case was lodged against five BSF personnel, the BSF men were unwilling to hand over their personnel to the Basirhat police. Although the BengalBangladesh Borderland BSF disagreed that Jayanti was raped, the officer-in-charge of this case stated that initial examinations proved that she was molested. On 27 January, the sub-divisional judicial magistrate of Basirhat issued woman increases their vulnerability. No one is willing to shoulder any responsibility for these women. The state that they leave is glad to get rid of them and the state that they enter finds them unwanted. < (Excerpted from Women In Indian Borderlands, edited by Paula Banerjee, associate professor, University of Calcutta, and Anasua Basu Ray Chaudhury, research associate, Mahanirban Calcutta Research Group, Kolkata; Published by Sage Publications; Pgs: 268; Price: Rs 595. Courtesy: Womens Feature Service)

Photo: SAGE Publications

Read the journal from the Institute of and India In aPress world buoyed by TRP ratings trivia, QUALITY JOURNALISM IS issues THE CASUALTY that covers pertinent to the media.
J anuary-M arch 20 12011 3 JULY - SEPTEMBER V olume 5 I ssue 1 R s 50 VOLUME 3 ISSUE 3 RS. 50

A JOURNAL OF THE PRESS INSTITUTE OF INDIA

IS S N

0 0 42-530 3

Yearly subscription only ADRIFT, Rs 200. CAST SHE HAS

TO FEND FOR HERSELF
alance in re orting ri ac an rot Who is responsible for violence? After this gang rape, I ndia must tak e the lead an the t o nger test in ra e trials A campaign against rape G ender, media and human rights Women provide lessons in managing disasters U se children sparingly in advertisements

An open letter to the new I & B M inister I t s media s responsibility, not the mark et s N ewspapers were made for N ews First What is a newspaper? Confronting challenges, mastering change

Responsible journalism in the age of the Internet

I f readers don t trust us, we don t have a chance

UN Women: Promises to keep

Your last line of defence

grassroots
A journal of the Press Institute of India promoting the human condition

February 15, 2013

Foreigners in your own land?

India is multi-centric. You should not label a part of it as northeast or southwest, well-known writer U. R. Ananthamurthy had said at a festival of the Naga Students Union of Bangalore a couple of years ago. But many of us in India unwittingly refer to people belonging to Arunachal Pradesh, Meghalya, Manipur, Mizoram, Nagaland and Tripura as Chinese or people from the north-east. Despite the fact that people from these states, particularly the youth, study and work in Indias metros, the states figure in the news only during assembly or parliamentary elections or when there are disturbances of one kind or another
pushpa aChanTa, Bengaluru
agas, Mizos, Manipuris and others belonging to the sister states in Indias northeast are a friendly and cheerful lot. Not many are aware that there are many distinct communities in each of these states.

grassroots

magazine focussing on the latest issues in Mizoram. NSUB organises an evening social for Nagas in Bangalore every two years, in October. Started four decades ago, the body has around

a residential complex in one of the middle-class areas of Bangalore for more than four years. A number of NGOs, educational and social research institutions and individuals who campaign for human rights, came together to form the Peace and Solidarity Forum in Bangalore in mid August 2012. They set up a mobile phone helpline that was available round-theclock; it helped hundreds of people, especially from low-income families to get their salary. The volunteers worked with the police to provide assistance to those who returned regarding employment, salary arrears, accommodation, recovering advances, etc. Volunteers Manohar Elavarthi and Tejaswini S. say the helpline received about 3000 calls for support. Islamic groups based in Bangalore took the initiative to host a meeting that saw people from different faiths and communities from the north-east

states participating. Says youngster Tenzin D. from Tibet who was there at the meeting: As we are from another country, we have refugee status here. We are given an identification

Young Naga women wearing traditional jewellery many youngsters from the Northeast have settled comfortably in India's metros.

document which must be renewed annually. Many of us come to India at a very young age to live and study in Dharamshala. We have not visited our families for over a decade but we miss them. Communication is difficult due to technological and linguistic challenges as people remaining in Tibet do not have telephone connections and speak dialects which we have lost touch with. Zamsei Thouthong, a 21-year old undergraduate student in Bangalore from the Kuki Tribe of Manipur says, As I have been here for seven years, I know Kannada and Hindi. At the time of the exodus in 2012, I was not scared nor did I try to leave, because of the protection offered by the police. Of course, my parents back home were anxious about my well being.

<

A gathering of young Mizos in Bangalore.

In fact, our identity and traditions are based on the tribe we hail from, says Hrangthan Chhungi, a Mizo who works with the Tribal Affairs Division of the National Council of Churches in India. For instance, there are Khasi and Garo tribes from Meghalaya, Meitei and Kuki from Manipur and Bodos from Assam. Only some tribes allow members to practise religion, according to Ladbasuk Lyngdoh, a theologian from Meghalaya. Due to the minimal avenues for employment and higher education, many people from the northeast relocate to towns and cities elsewhere. However, owing to differences in language, food, clothing and practices, they find it challenging to blend into the local milieu. Organisations such as the Naga Students Union of Bnagalore (NSUB) and the Bangalore Mizo Association (BMA) play an important role in helping Nagas and Mizos to integrate with the locals, while keeping in touch with their roots. Established in 1984, BMA has a registered membership of 3000. The organisation gathers a few hundred Mizos in the city every 2nd October during Vangpui Kut, the autumn festival when they enjoy traditional food, indoor games and cultural activities together. BMA also hosts a yearly football tournament for its active league that has more than ten teams, and publishes an annual 6000 members, most of who come to Bangalore to study. The body assists youth hailing from Nagaland, Assam or Manipur in finding job or education options, says Trichao Thomas. A Naga youth who worked in the city for three years, he is associated with NSUB. Rumour, spread via mobile phone text messages and word-of-mouth, resulted in the departure in August last year of hordes of people from the northeast from many cities in India. Anti-social elements took advantage of the situation and threatened them, verbally and physically. There were some Tibetan youth in Karnataka, either working or studying in college, who bore the brunt. After things settled down, those belonging to the economically disadvantaged sections found it difficult to return, and thus lost jobs and income. I was able to get another job with the help of my network of friends who are also from a nearby village in Assam. But my previous employer was unwilling to pay for the month I had been away. Some of my acquaintances who left found it hard to secure employment; those who remained experienced a constant feeling of insecurity, explains Narayan Singh (name changed). A 29-year old of Nepali origin, with a son age three and a wife, a domestic worker, he had been working as a security guard in

Flying like butterflies, touching the sky

When Meera Devi's husband died she did not know where to go with her two small children. She was an orphan and her husband's family her foster mother. But her husband beat her even more. Naseema was illiterate and did not know where to go. Then she heard of Disha and joined its literacy classes. She became literate and even imparted literacy to her husband (despite all his beatings). Then she became a full-time activist and worked in several villages of Saharampur and Dehradun Districts, helping several women in need. Ramrati is Dalit woman who overcame adverse conditions in her family to play a very active role in an anti-liquor agitation in Pather Village. Despite grave economic hardships in her family, her commitment to the movement did not diminish. Shahnaaz suffered poverty and ill-treatment but she could rise above her problems to get trained as a midwife and take up several responsibilities with Disha. She contributed to reducing the distress of several other women. Says Naseema, "Before taking up social struggles, we had been waging struggles within our families. Our sufferings as women have built in us a firm resolve to protect other women. This is what gives us the extra strength to go all out in struggles, to put in all we have." Adds Naseema, "When oppressed women get a chance to get out of their narrow confines, they want to turn the earth around, they want to fly like butterflies and touch the sky." Muslim women activists faced a lot of opposition from the religious orthodoxy. The extent can be gauged from what Naseema says: "The hell you talk about cant be worse that my living hell in the present. So let me use this opportunity to escape." When Shahnaaz was first selected for health-camp training, she could neither read alphabets nor write them. But Disha did not reject her for this reason. She was encouraged to learn the basics and she improved later. < Bharat Dogra, Delhi

Disha activists hear cases of violence against women.

had treated her badly. Now that he was dead her entire world seemed to crumble. However, some kindly neighbours in Sultanpur Chilkana Village of Saharanpur District where she lived, guided her to a voluntary organisation, Disha, that battles social injustice. Today not only has she stabilised her own family but, in addition, she has been able to help several women almost as helpless as she once was. When Naseema came to her husband's home she hoped to get a reprieve from the ill-treatment by

F e b r u a ry 15, 2013

grassroots
A journal of the Press Institute of India promoting the human condition

Providing one meal a day delivering a lifeline

sharmisTha Chaudhury, Bhubaneswar

grassroots

The Bharatpur slum in Odishas capital is a picture of despair: Mud houses with plastic sheets for roofs, refuse scattered around and the stench of human excreta everywhere. But what catches the eye more than the general squalor are ragged, hungry-looking children wandering around listlessly. It is against this backdrop that the Swatantra Jatiya Shishu Sramik Vidyalaya and its principal Sukanti Mohanto stand out like a beacon of hope

E
Photos: Sharmistha Chaudhury/WFS

very morning, Sukanti Mohanto, the school headmistress, Swatantra Jatiya Shishu Sramik Vidyalaya (Special National Child Labour School), is out of her home by 9.30 am. For half an hour before her school begins, she

of work and there is no one to ensure that the child eats, if at all. Children like Trupti Das, Bhola Pradhan, Parvati Maharona and Jili Pradhan, who are now students at Mohantos school, would earlier have spent their entire day doing various

These are some of the slum children who are led to the school by the headmistress everyday. Crushing poverty, illiteracy and the pressure to earn a livelihood have adversely impacted the children.
walks the lanes of the Bharatpur slum in Bhubaneswar to coax, cajole and even intimidate the children there into attending classes. Thats because most parents are not keen on sending their children to school they prefer their daughters to stay back and look after the younger siblings, while the boys do some income-generating work. Its only when Mohanto turns up at their doorstep that they have no option but to let them go. Hers is a non-formal school catering to working children and dropouts in the 9-14 age group, with the ultimate aim of sending them to regular schools. The school has a small but committed staff of five a teacher for vocational training, two teachers for the education process, one clerk and one cook apart from the indefatigable headmistress. One of the most notable contributions of this school to the slum community is in terms of general nutrition. Good food is clearly an urgent requirement in Bharatpur slum. Crushing poverty, illiteracy and the pressure to earn a livelihood have all impacted on the scrawny bodies of the children here. Mohanto remarks, Most of the people here are construction workers. Both men and women go out in search odd jobs. The boys would go and collect wood from the nearby elephant sanctuary, and the girls would remain caught in a never-ending cycle of domestic work. Some of the children were even sucked into working in the local zari (embroidery) unit for a pittance. Both boys and girls here would also rummage through the garbage heaps in search of bottles and plastic to sell, or aluminium wires to burn in order to extract the metal. None of them knew what regular meals were about. Always ravenous, they would eat anything they could lay their hands on, even if it was from a garbage heap. If nothing turned up, they would go hungry. However, the small, menial jobs they did would fetch them some money. A portion of their earnings would be handed over to the parents, but a little something was always kept back and that was how many got inexorably drawn into gutkha (chewable tobacco)-addiction and gambling. Substance abuse runs high among the children here, playing havoc with their already malnourished bodies. The Swatantra Jatiya Shishu Sramik Vidyalaya, a part of the District Child Labour Project (Khurda District)

of the Odisha Government and run by Vishwa Jeevan Seva Sangha, an NGO, has always emphasised the nutritional aspect of its intervention. The mid-day meal served here is far more nutritious than anything the children get at home. Every child is allotted 100 grams of rice and 20 grams of dal (pulses) per day. On Mondays and Saturdays, they are served rice and vegetables cooked in dal - the vegetables consisting of potatoes, brinjal and seasonal green vegetables. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, the emphasis is on protein with the children being given a curry of soyabean and potatoes with rice. Every child gets 100 grams of soyabean and 20 grams of potatoes. On Wednesdays and Fridays, they used to serve egg curry (one egg each) with rice. But after the authorities of a nearby temple objected to a non-vegetarian item being cooked and served, it was decided that the children be given the eggs to take home with them, while at school they are served vegetables, dal and rice. The question to ask is what would these children have been eating if they did not have access to this meal? Says Puspa, 11, When there is no school, I usually have no lunch, although my mother leaves some rice from the previous night for me and my brother. After my parents return home from work, I have dinner with my family. But even this one family meal is sometimes in jeopardy. As a teacher put it, sometimes Puspas father comes in drunk and life suddenly turns very fraught, with her mother inevitably getting beaten, which also

means that nothing gets cooked in the house and nobody eats. Another student, Puja Maharona, declares that the food at school is much tastier than what she has at home. She loves vegetables, but at home the only vegetable she eats is potatoes.

it is not as if the small income the children make is essential to keep the family from starving. However, what generally happens is that this money keeps getting frittered away. A lot of the money goes into alcohol and gambling and that means the household budget for food shrinks, observes Mohanty. The impact of alcoholism and drug abuse on the nutrition levels of the children in the family has never been seriously studied nor has the issue made it into any policy framework or interventions on the ground. Added to this is the social dimension of overworked working mothers not being able to spare appropriate time for child feeding, caring and rearing practices. This would also require a policy intervention if the nutritional status of Indias children is to be improved. But there can be no denying that in the Bharatpur slum, poor nutrition levels among children are very closely linked to broader life patterns, dependencies and addictions. Mohanty, despite her best efforts, sometimes feels despondent. But she hopes for the best. We can give the

The mid-day meal at the Swatantra Jatiya Shishu Sramik Vidyalaya is cooked in a little yard outside the schoolroom.
According to the headmistress, there is very little awareness about the value of green vegetables among the slum families, and it is not just a question of affordability. In contrast, animal protein, like meat and milk, are universally desired but generally considered as unaffordable. Along with the food comes another world. During the six hours from 10 am to 4 pm that these children are in school, they are happily divorced from their seamy surroundings. They chant prayers, repeat lessons, practise writing and learn vocational skills. In fact, some are engaged enough to revise their lessons at home. Since all our students are working children, we do not follow formal school courses. We teach through the methods of joyful learning, explains Mahapatra. That is what makes lessons so attractive to them. Despite the big difference this school has brought about in the lives of the children, challenges remain and nobody knows them better than Mohanty. For one, parents are, by and large, still extremely reluctant to send their wards to school, preferring that they work and bring home some money. Construction workers earn around Rs 175-200 and usually both husband and wife go to the site, so children one meal a day, but through it we try to deliver a lifeline, she says. <
(Courtesy: Womens Feature Service)

Shift to e-journal
Dear Reader, With increasing printing costs, the Press Institute of India, a non-profit trust, has been compelled to stop publication of the printed edition of Grassroots. Grassroots is now published only as an e-journal. The annual subscription to the e-journal (which can be assessed by clicking the Grassroots section on the home page) will be Rs 300 and payment (in the form of DD favouring Press Institute of India) can be sent to the Director, PII-RIND, RIND Premises, Second Main Road, Taramani CPT Campus, Chennai 600 113. Existing subscribers will receive either a PDF version or a password to log into the e-version. We look forward to your support always. Director

This is the Swatantra Jatiya Shishu Sramik Vidyalaya (Special National Child Labour School) that delivers non-formal education, and good food, to working children and dropouts in the 9-14 age group, in the Bharatpur slum in Odisha's capital, Bhubaneshwar.

grassroots
A journal of the Press Institute of India promoting the human condition

February 15, 2013

Child rights defenders in a conflict zone

Every morning when Sunila Hazda sets off to work, she is not sure what time she will return home. Her work as a defender of child rights, or Bal Bandhu, requires her to traverse through dense forests and steep hills. She has also to be on guard against snakes and other animals as she walks from village to village in the remote Naxal-affected Harkar Panchayat in Khaira Block of Bihars Jamui District. Although she has been born and brought up in the Santhaldoiminated panchayat, the lack of roads and electricity makes her wary and unsure at times. However, there is one thing that Sunila is sure about she will stop at nothing to see that every child in the panchayat goes to school
swapna majumdar, Jamui (Bihar)
aving gone through a long and difficult struggle to study, Sunila Hazda, 19, the daughter of a woodcutter, doesn't want others to face the obstacles she had to negotiate. Her parents sold firewood to garner resources for her education and allowed her to stay in a hostel 110 km away from home to pursue her

grassroots

programme. Introduced in December 2010 by the National Commission for Protection of Children (NCPCR), after getting the nod by the prime minister's office, the Bal Bandhu programme aims to protect children's rights in areas of civil unrest with the help of Bal Bandhus chosen from within the community. Two resource

Sunila Hazda, 19, of Harkar Panchyat in Khaira Block of Jamui District, Bihar, is the first girl in her Santhal community to reach Class 11. Now, as a government-appointed Bal Bandhu, or defender of child rights, she has taken it upon herself to ensure that every child in her panchayat goes to school.
dreams. If I had not studied, I, too, would have been selling firewood. Education has given me a job and an identity, says Sunila, the first girl in her Santhal Community to reach Class 11. Sunila is today pursuing higher studies and is, at the same time, helping other children of the community access their right to education. It was this zeal that led to her being chosen as a Bal Bandhu under the government's Bal Bandhu persons for each district have also been deputed to facilitate the threeyear programme being piloted in 10 districts in nine states impacted by civil unrest. In Bihar, four districts, Jamui, Sheohar, Rohtas and East Champaran, have been selected for its implementation. In Jamui, the programme is being piloted in Khaira Block. Here, the Bal Bandhus are slowly and steadily mobilising the community to take responsibility for upholding the rights

of their children and convincing them to send their children to anganwadis (nurseries) and schools not just in Sunilas Harkar Panchyat but in 20 of the 22 panchayats in the block. What has helped immensely is that of the 20 Bal Bandhus chosen one for each panchayat by the two Bal Bandhu Resource Persons (RPs), nine are women. Although the Bal Bandhus hail from different backgrounds, they all share a common passion to do something for their community and a commitment to work for children. And their hard work has paid off. Since they began work in January 2011, they have, with the help of the two RPs, catalysed change in the block. They have managed to turn around almost half of the nonoperational schools. Before the onset of the programme, 48 of the 226 schools in the block were nonfunctional. By making 23 of the 48 non-functional schools operational again, they have managed to motivate 798 children, who were already enrolled in school but irregular, to attend classes regularly. But it's not been an easy ride. To achieve this, they have had to handle delicate situations as well. For instance, in August 2011, when Bal Bandhu Savitri Kumari went to the Parati Primary School in Arnuwabank Panchayat of Khaira Block to participate in the flag hoisting ceremony on Independence Day, she found that the villagers were very agitated. They told her that the neighbouring school had been warned by the Naxals not to unfurl the flag. Seeing the uncertainty and fear among the community, teachers and students, Savitri sought the help of her mentor RP, Srinivas Chakli. After Srinivas reached the school, the duo calmed the villagers down. On inquiring whether or not Parati School had received a specific warning and finding it had not, they left it to the community to decide what should be done. Considering that their children were looking forward to the event, the villagers decided to go ahead. In fact, a village elder was nominated by the community to do the honours in the absence of the principal. Like Savitri Kumari, Nazrhwa Naz, too, has understood what it means to be a Bal Bandhu. In March 2011,

the lives of 553 students in Garhi Panchayat had come to a standstill when their middle school was targeted by extremists. A big part of the school was destroyed by a bomb they planted to prevent the government from housing a battalion of the Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF) on the

to form Bal Mitra Sangathans, or child support groups, comprising like-minded boys and girls of her age who have pledged to work for children. These efforts helped her to delay the marriage of a sister of her former schoolmate and get her back to school. Engaging the local elected representatives has been one of the main strategies that have helped the Bal Bandhus bring girls back to school. Bachchi Devi used to work as a domestic help before she contested from Scheduled Caste seat in Surganhi Panchayat, Sheohar, in the 2011 elections. When Bal Bandhu Neetu Kumari, in charge of the panchayat, went to greet her and discuss the programme, Bachchi confessed that since she was uneducated, she did not understand such issues. She took Neetu to the house of her former employer. As Neetu spoke about the programme, Bachchi sat on the floor near her employer's feet and quietly listened. Later, when Neetu asked her why she did not sit on the chair, Bachchi revealed that she could not dare to sit with her employer. It took Neetu several interactions with Bachchi to build her confidence and convince her that, as mukhiya, she was the leader of the panchayat and that she was inferior

This is the school in Garhi Panchayat in Jamui District, which was destroyed by the Naxals. Nazrhwa Naz, the Bal Bandhu for Garhi, got together with her mother, Headmistress Nikhat Parveen, to convince parents to send their children back to school after the incident.
premises. The CRPF had moved out in January, two months before the incident, and were expected to return in time for the panchayat elections to be held in the state that month. According to Nikhat Parveen, the schools headmistress, the blast created panic and fear within the community, particularly among students and their parents. I had to go from door to door to convince them to return. But it took a long time to gain their confidence, she recalls. It was Nazrhwa Naz, who helped Parveen persuade the community to send their daughters back to school. Incidentally, Naz is Parveens daughter. At 19, Naz has been critical in raising awareness about the importance of education in the Garhi panchayat area. Having grown up in a district where girls are married young, Naz has concentrated on reaching out to the mothers. Simultaneously, she made efforts to none. Now, not only does Bachchi Devi sit on the chair, she has become actively engaged in upholding child rights. After participating in several awareness meetings on child rights, she organised and led rallies against child labour on International Day against Child Labour. Whether it is Sunila or Naz or Neetu, the young Bal Bandhus face many challenges. Not only do they have to work amidst conflict and fear, they also have to stand up against bureaucratic delays and corruption. The lack of buildings for schools, no provision of residential schools/ hostels, particularly for girls, and the difficult terrain have only added to their problems. But, despite the odds, these young Bal Bandhu carry on, true friends of children living in areas of conflict. <
(Courtesy: Womens Feature Service)

Photos: Swapna Majumdar/WFS

F e b r u a ry 15, 2013

grassroots
A journal of the Press Institute of India promoting the human condition

Change at the grassroots tribal women show the way

ekha Talmaki has made a serious and commendable effort at conducting surveybased research on the socio-economic status of tribal women in Valod (South Gujarat) where committed workers have dedicated more than five decades of their lives in village development activities based on Gandhian principles. Her field visits have played a crucial role in bringing new insights and analysis, backed by a gender lens. She has examined tribal womens predicaments in the context of the status of women in India, where the main factors in determining socioeconomic status are income, education and occupation. Talmaki has provided an exhaustive essay, focusing on the occupational life and health profile of tribal women and their status in the family in decision-making. She goes on to evaluate the situation to find out to what extent the Gandhian ideology of Antyodaya is implemented for tribal women, who are the poorest of the poor in the economic ladder and at the bottom of the pyramid. The author has rightly used a conceptual framework that includes socio-economic parameters of inequality, poverty and social exclusion. She has provided a definition for tribe and highlighted indicators such as working status and demographic aspects of tribes in Gujarat as well as the size and distribution of Scheduled Tribes. She reveals that the sex ratio of tribal women in Gujarat is relatively higher compared to other parts of India. Does it indicate better status on the socio-economic, cultural, educational and political platforms? The social geography of Surat shows volatile changes due to industrialisation, urbanisation and globalisation. In what way have these factors affected the lives and survival strategies of tribal women? The author has made an honest attempt to answer such difficult questions. With the help of a questionnaire administered to 498 women in the 18-59-year age group, in 11 select villages in Valod, Talmaki has tried to analyse various developmental efforts. She says a large number of Halpatis or Dublas is found prominently in Surat District. They are very poor because they do not get permanent employment. They are good in taking care of animals; local milk cooperatives encourage them in animal husbandry. It emerges from the study that the tribal communities, particularly women, have been excluded from the mainstream economic development for the past many decades. Therefore, it is necessary to pay attention to many other aspects that can lead to the overall development of tribal women. The study brings to the fore the efforts of veteran Gandhians

grassroots

grassroots
A journal of the Press Institute of India promoting the human condition

A Journal of Press Institute of India Research Institute for Newspaper Development Second Main Road, Taramani CPT Campus, Chennai 600 113 Tel: 044-2254 2344 Telefax: 044-2254 2323 www.pressinstitute.in

grassroots

sOCiO-eCOnOmiC deVelOpmenT OF Tribal wOmen: ChanGes and ChallenGes author: rekha Talmaki publisher: The women press, delhi pages: 222 price: rs 895
such as Babubhai Shah, Savitaben Chaudhari and Dashriben Choudhari. Popularly known as Dashariba, the eminent Gandhian and freedomfighter who was born in 1918 in a tribal family has been the role model for all tribal women in the region. She now resides in Vedchhi. She took part in the freedom struggle and taught Kasturba Gandhi reading and writing a good example of how tribal men and women actively participated in the freedom struggle. After Independence, Dashariben devoted her entire life to educating people. In the book, Talmaki says that women in Valod perform various income-generating activities. They are either engaged in agricultural activities or in producing papad or in dairy production. Very few women among those surveyed were engaged in anganwadis (nurseries); only four women had government jobs. Women associated with agricultural activity were also engaged in papad or milk production. For example, Halpati women are basically agricultural labourers but they do well in dairy production. The women do not possess land but those who are members of self-help groups manage livestock and have their own bank accounts. These are empowered women. Their economic status has improved thanks to entities such as Lijjat Papad and milk cooperatives. More than 50 per cent women know the market value of their products. Decision making, economic status and empowerment go hand in hand. More than 70 per cent women in the study say their status has changed drastically and they see themselves in a different perspective now; they think about the empowerment of their own daughters and the well-being of the family. More than 50 per cent women say improvement in economic status gives them status in the family and in society as well. The women do not want their children to suffer as they have. What they want is good educational and job opportunities for their children. They want decent, educated husbands for their daughters. Alcoholism is common in tribal communities; hence, mothers do not want such men for their daughters.

It is encouraging to note in the book that respondents from Vedchhi want to do something for their community and village. Respondents from Ranveri want their daughters to be educated, so that they would teach their children. It shows that women have understood the importance of education. In the sample, there were very few widows, but nearly 50 per cent women said that there should be some special schemes only for widows. Education of tribes started with the Vedchhi Movement and it later flourished, thanks to Jugatram Dave, who founded of Swaraj Ashram Vedchhi in 1930. The Udyogwadi Unit started in 1954 and various programmes were undertaken by Babubhai Shah. A separate womens section was started in the Udyogwadi Unit. Women started getting guidance in income generating activities and vocational training. The Lijjat Papad Unit, for instance, provides occupation based on self-sufficiency and contributes to empowering women in Valod. Self-help groups, milk cooperatives, the increasing participating of women in political activity, agitation against deforestation and alcoholism by selfhelp groups, the educational status of women and their children, accessibility to infrastructural activity, improved decision-making capacity, and the knowledge and use of contraceptives show positive changes in the socioeconomic status of tribal women in Valod. The improvement has not taken place overnight. Gandhian ideology definitely played a very important role. So, too, did self-help goups who are emerging on a large scale in Valod Taluka. Development from the grassroots, a dream of Gandhiji, is now becoming a reality. It noteworthy that the authors recommendations emphasise the need for investment in tribal womens education, vocational training, meaningful participation of tribal women in local self government bodies, anti-alcohol efforts and prevention of domestic violence among tribal families through collective efforts and social intervention. < (Vibhuti Patel, who has reviewed the book, heads the Department of Economics, SNDT Womens University, Mumbai.)

Director V. Murali murali@pressinstitute.in Editor Sashi Nair editorpiirind@gmail.com Editorial Assistant R. Suseela asst.edit@gmail.com Manager N. Subramanian subbudu.n@gmail.com Assistant Manager / Librarian R. Geetha rindgeetha@gmail.com Oce Sta B. Rajendran

The Press Institute of India does not take responsibility for returning unsolicited material. It may not always be possible to reply to senders of unsolicited material. Opinions expressed in this publication do not necessarily reflect the views of the editor or publisher.

Every effort has been taken to assure that the accuracy of information contained in this publication is based on reliable sources. All trademarks and trade names mentioned in this magazine belong to their respective owners. In case of error editor/publisher shall not be liable for any loss or prejudice caused to the reader. The publisher reserves the copyright of the materials published in the magazine. No part of the articles or photographs can be reproduced without the prior permission of the publisher. All disputes will be subjected to the jurisdiction of Chennai only.

advertisement Tariff
Full Page: B&W: Rs. 5,000 Colour: Rs. 10,000 Half Page: B&W: Rs. 3,000 Colour: Rs. 5,000 mechanical details Bleed : 275 mm x 350 mm
material can be sent by email to murali@pressinstitute.in or by Cd to our address given above

annual subscription
12 Issues Rs. 300 36 Issues Rs. 750
Please note that the cheque or demand draft or at par cheque payable in Chennai, for the subscription amount should be drawn in the name of press institute of india Only and NOT in the name of the Grassroots.

10

grassroots
A journal of the Press Institute of India promoting the human condition

February 15, 2013

grassroots