USHA RAI, Kanha, Madhya Pradesh

First-generation learners emerge from neglected forest villages 3

March 15, 2016 - Volume 8 Issue 3

I n s I d e

A joyous girlhood, ful-filled life as a woman 2

How improved livelihoods can save forests Providing sustainable livelihood options for people living around the ecologically vital landscape around the Kanha National Park in Madhya Pradesh is becoming a reality in 175 villages where, with enhanced incomes and greater awareness on the need to conserve the green cover, communities are being weaned away from dependence on forest resources. It is time that the Central and state governments recognise and honour such environment-friendly villagers living in forest corridors

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RSince 2009, two NGOs –

Foundation for Ecological Security (FES) and

PRADHAN (Professional Assistance for Development Action) – have been working with households on the forest fringes at the Kanha National park in Madhya Pradesh to live in harmony with nature, with improved agricultural practices, kitchen gardens, poultry, fishing, livestock care and more money in their pockets. The target is to reach 12500 families by 2018.

All the 175 villages are in the Kanha-Pench forest corridor, rich in biodiversity—flora, fauna, sal and teak forests interspersed with meadows and water bodies and home to one of the largest concentrations of tigers, leopards, gaurs, barasingha, cheetal and abundant bird life.

It is not possible to save as well as improve the contiguous forest corridor of 16000 km, without improving the earning capacity of the people living around it, says Sunil Kumar, director of the Royal Bank of Scotland Foundation, which is supporting communities in conservation of critical ecosystems.

The two NGOs, working in Mandla and Balaghat Districts, have different approaches to community work. Fortytwo villages have been identified as the weakest links in the Kanha-Pench forest corridor with the danger of the narrow green cover disappearing under human and cattle pressure. Six of the villages are in Mandla District and 60 per cent of the population is below the poverty line and, till NGO intervention, seasonal

migration was a ritual to stave off hunger.

FES has been working for three years with the 65 families of Khuksar Village of Mandla, just 10 km from the Khatia Gate of Kanha National Park. Mistar Singh, the village mukhiya (headman) and Yogesh Patel, a farmer, point out that though most of the families have two to 10 acres of land, 12 families have no land. With FES support, villagers have come together as a group to discuss their problems and find solutions. Digging wells, drawing water from village ponds and with new improved farming techniques imparted by FES, instead of one crop they are now harvesting two a year and are able to save Rs 20000 to Rs 25000.

Some villagers have found work in the resorts around the national parks. Instead of looking to the forests for firewood, they have started growing bamboo and Jamun trees with money provided by FES. They have fenced their agricultural fields from wild boar and deer and are growing turmeric and ginger which keep wildlife at bay. The off-season migration has dropped from 80 per cent to 10 per cent, says Yogesh Patel.

FES acts as a bridge between the village community and the forest department and in some areas like Niwas, where the land holdings are really small, have asked for community forest rights. Other demands include conversion of a small area near their village into a sacred

forest, community involvement in joint forest management and replacement of an old transformer so that they have more assured electricity. All the issues are to be addressed at the next quarterly meeting of the steering committee of stakeholders.

Poultry farming too has got a boost with introduction of the large Giriraj and Vanraj breeds. The eggs and chicks hatched are bigger. The Giriraj and Vanraj chicks weigh 3 to 3.5 kg as against the desi (country) chicks that weigh just 1.5 kg. As against 10 families in poultry farming, there are now more than 30 families breeding the improved hens and finding a market in the many tourist resorts around Kanha and Pench.

Bagaspur Village with 52 families came under the wings of FES just a year ago. With acute water shortage, getting two crops a year was not possible, so drip irrigation has been introduced and everyone contributes for the irrigation after discussion at the village welfare committee. There are 109 drip irrigation pipes and the women’s groups are using them to grow tomatoes, the local spinach, gourds and beans, some of which is sold in the local market. Simultaneously, the villagers are collecting cow urine and using it as a bio-pesticide. To solve the water shortage problem, there are plans to construct a check dam on the upper catchment of

An extraordinary school proves to be a ‘real blessing in their life’ 8

Lifting the curse of child malnutrition 4

Marginalised groups learn to demand what is rightfully theirs 6

Surmounting challenges to lead a green revolution 7

In the cold desert, women battle water woes and keep going 9

There is a water tank on each acre of land cultivated.

Villagers looking keenly at a micro plan. Continued on page 2

Yes, nutrition services can indeed be successfully delivered 5

March 15, 20162

Focus

SHomA A. cHAtteRjI, Kolkata

A joyous girlhood, fulfilled life as a woman An NGO working in the villages in South 24-Parganas District in West Bengal, gives new direction to the lives of girls and women, deprived of the means of earning a livelihood and trapped in a system where marriage is considered the only end-goal

Shantana Haldar is 21 years old. She is well on her way to realising her dreams –

putting her interest in embroidery to good use. Life changed for her, thanks to Jeevika – an NGO operating in the cluster of 64 villages in South 24-Parganas District, West Bengal.

Jeevika, which means ‘livelihood’ in Sanskrit, has been working to promote the rights of women and girls in the villages here, where daughters are still considered a liability. Marriage is central to the lives of the girls, from their own points of view, and also those of their parents. The focus is on being moulded into ‘good’ wives, where the adjective is an endorsement of looks, rather than educational achievements, skills, or even the ability to adjust and adapt to situations and people.

Parents of dusky-hued girls are even more harassed than others, as they will need to give higher dowries to get grooms for them. Given such obsession, child marriages are a way of life in the villages here. Parents want

to get their daughters married off at the earliest and, often, the girls themselves, thanks to the pressure on their parents, take matters into their own hands and elope. Either way, they forego schooling and other training, which could have given them a source of income, if not self-sufficiency. They find themselves trapped in situations where they are dependent on others, and have no choice but to put up with the abuse, indignities and violence meted out to them.

The priority is the promotion of women’s rights across all its interventions by challenging and changing widely-practised patriarchal discriminations that restrict the empowerment of girls and women. The self-help vocational training programmes are currently centered on high-quality embroidery skills. “I have just completed my embroidery training. I had always wanted to learn embroidery and I now feel I will be able to practise my skills better and translate my dreams to reality,” says Shantana. But the actual focus goes beyond

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mere income generation. “It is about working together to develop practical skills and raise the social status of these women and girls that will ultimately empower the employees in their own communities for the rest of their lives,” says a brochure distributed by the NGO during its recent Anande Kanyakaal Carnival held in Kolkata.

Jeevika had long been working on the issue of violence against women and girls. But the interventions were largely rehabilitative, in the sense that responses were made after an incident of violence had already occurred. In 2011, the NGO began to work on the area of preventing violence altogether.

And it was then that early marriage of girls came up as one of the major root causes of violence. And so began interventions on the issue of preventing early and child marriages in its operational area through regular campaigns on the self-help groups of Swayam Sampurna, a microfinance federation run by women,

The carnival selling handcrafts and embroidery work at Manovikas Kendra compound, Kolkata.

targeting girls and boys in local schools, local self-government officials and other stakeholders. After having worked with adult women for more than two decades, it began direct interventions with girls. The focus of the effort is more in alignment with women’s rights than on promoting child rights.

Currently, about 10000 underprivileged women and girls are benefiting. The thrust now is on the revival of crafts of Bengal that have good international market worth and

can be created with minimum expense. The focus is on kantha embroidery, high quality tailoring and hand-embroidered greeting cards, stockings and chopstick holders.

Gauri Duari, a 20-year-old beneficiary, sums it all up, “I have been working here for two years. I enjoy the supportive atmosphere. I have been able to learn a lot of skills. The money that I have earned has helped me support myself and my family. It has certainly made my life worth living.”

42 villages. The local coal and wood fired stoves or angheetis are also being redesigned for more energy release and less smoke.

Women are at the forefront in villages looked after by PRADHAN in Balaghat. The 5000 families, most of who are in and around forest corridors, have been practising since 2009 organic farming with seeds procured from the Beej Bachao Andolan.

Each village has four to five women’s self-help groups (SHGs) with 10 to 15 members contributing Rs 10 to 20 for their financial security and small loans. The SHGs come together at village-level committees (VLC) to discuss village development and their contribution. The VLCs amalgamate as clusters to discuss social issues and a federation acts as the over-arching body.

return in the market. The women have learnt vermi-composting as well as how to make leaf manure called agniastra.”

With micro plans drawn up for the entire area, the villagers are now growing paddy, wheat, gram, peas and not decimating the forests. With a seepage tank on each acre of land, enlarging the space between paddy seedlings and using natural manure, 40 quintals of paddy were procured from two acres of land. The seepage tanks not only provided regular supply of water but ensured ground water recharging.

There was no electricity in the village till 2013, so the women’s collective pooled in resources and made many trips to the office of the collector to get power. Dwarka Didi, who was awarded in Delhi for her exemplary agricultural yields, finally met the Congress president and put forward the village’s demand for power. “She assured us power

in two months but within six weeks the electricity poles were up,” she recalls.

Liquor production in the village has stopped and there is less violence in homes. Of course, the men still go to the market and consume liquor, says Dwarka. A street theatre group of 20 women, trained by Media Matters and the Vanangana Group of Mahila Samakhya, go from village to village to talk and enact plays on violence and gender issues. Taking loans from the SHGs, every house in the village now has a motorcycle and there is no need to walk to the market. Through SHG loans, buffaloes are bought and marriage expenses met. The interest on the loans is just 50 paise for Rs 100.

In another village, Takabarra in Balaghat, which has 67 families and women SHGs since 2009, three women have bought 1.5 to four acres of land, all registered in their names. Hemlata, in

addition to land, has bought a two-wheeler, a TV set and constructed a toilet. Two women of the village have been trained as vets and they vaccinate the animals and know how to handle the major ailments of the 2500 desi chicks in the seven adjoining village. Pushpa, educated till Class 9, is the pasusakhi or vet of her village.

Like the women of Sawarjhodi, the SHGs are empowered, can write applications for toilets, hand pumps, pension, BPL (below poverty line) cards and meet officials of the district administration. Forty seven biogas units have been set up in the villages that PRADHAN services. Bore wells that drain the underground water in the villages are being phased out and seep tanks constructed. Though grazing of cattle in the forests is still a problem, discussions are on options like stall feeding and growing cattle fodder in the village.

Women’s empowerment is through improved livelihood, health camps and linkages with government departments. They have been trained to do street plays for gender sensitisation of the men by Mahila Samakhya. Articulate and self-assured they can speak to collectors and other officials about the village needs.

Dwarka Didi is an active member of the SHG in her village as well as the van samiti or forest committee of Sawarjhodi, a forest village under the Mohgaon Panchayat of Paraswada Block. Recounting the growth of the SHGs and the village over the past six years, she says, “Earlier, we lived in thatched huts and our lives revolved around the jungle. We collected forest produce to make ropes and sell in the market to buy food. Now we get enough from agriculture to feed our families and sell the surplus in the market. Organically grown vegetables also get a better

How improved livelihoods can save forests

March 15, 2016 3

First-generation learners emerge from neglected forest villagesIt is only in the past five years that Kodakarai’s children have a middle school to go to. The place is in Tamil Nadu’s Ayyur Reserve Forest area in Krishnagiri. Thanks to proactive implementation of the RTE with a little help from two NGOs, the Indian Council for Child Welfare and Nanhi Kali, and land donated by villagers free of cost, the school now has sections till Class 8 as well as a newly opened primary school a few hundred metres awaySIbI ARASU, Krishnagiri, Tamil Nadu

“Gooood mooorning Saar,” a bunch of 40-odd children

chorused as we entered one of the classrooms at the Government Middle School at Kodakarai, a cluster of villages deep inside the Ayyur Reserve Forest in Tamil Nadu’s Krishnagiri District.

Nestled inside the hills of Krishnagiri, to reach Kodakarai is to drive up from Denganikottai, the taluk (sub district) headquarters 33 kilometres away, cross the forest check post after 20 kilometres and take a kucha (rustic) road for the past 10 kilometres of the stretch. Any semblance of basic medical or other essential services are available only at the taluk headquarters. I was here on 19 January, to observe the effectiveness of the Right to Education Act (RTE) in the remote region and how education was changing these village hamlets

While a horde of children is not an uncommon sight in any school, it is only in the last five years that Kodakarai’s children have a middle school to go to, as opposed to having to commute the distance to the taluk headquarters on a daily basis. In the last five years, through proactive implementation of the RTE with a little help from two NGOs, the Indian Council for Child Welfare (ICCW) and Nanhi Kali (an organisation that provides primary education to underprivileged girl children in India) and land donated by villagers free of cost for setting up the school, Kodakarai now boasts of a middle school that goes up to Class 8 as well as a newly opened primary school a few hundred metres away

While these may seem like minor improvements for a state which boasts a literacy rate of 80.33 percent, this is still a giant step for the tribal cluster of villages where any kind of formal education was only a dream. The school has been running since 2011.

Earlier, classes did not extend beyond the Fifth Standard and one had to travel far to study further. There is no documentation for how many actually did attend the school, but there could not have been

many, considering the difficulty in doing so.

Kodakarai, which includes seven major village clusters (Keel Kochavur, Mel Kochavur, Karisithapanur, Kadur, Kari-marathur, Schedule Tribe Colony and Dhottiyur), is home to 600-odd families with many of the families having at least four children. A tribal sub-group of the Lingayat Community, the people here consider themselves Iyer because of their staunch vegetarianism. The Irular, Schedule Tribe community are the primary residents of these hills. The people here grow ragi, rice and broad beans, apart from rearing sheep and cattle. Both communities speak a dialect of Kannada and Tamil mixed together, which people in the rest of the state find difficult to understand.

While there was a school building for over a decade here, it was seldom visited either by government-appointed teachers or by students, who found their time better spent in the nearby forests. The prevalence of child marriages has also prevented many of the children from continuing their education. While the NGOs are working at combating the practice, it is not entirely gone or as Lakshmi Narayanan, an education officer with ICCW told me, “done in a more hush-hush way than earlier”.

It was only in 2011, when ICCW intervened by setting up a bridge school for Class 6 students, since at that time the village school only went up till class five, that things started looking up. Along with the NGO’s assistance, the teachers also made serious efforts to stall the alarming dropout rates. “Here, some child would say they can’t come tomorrow because of a village function and that would be the end of it. I wouldn’t see them coming again to school ever again,” says A.R. Gunasekaran, who has been a teacher for 17 years and is the current headmaster at the school.

The functions last for week or a few days and coupled with parental indifference, often result in disrupting the routine of the children. The school now

has 220 children up to Class 8, and they are supervised by three government-appointed teachers and two ICCW-appointed staff members who are from the village. The nearby primary school has around 55 students overseen by one teacher and a staff member appointed by Nanhi Kali. While this is inadequate in itself, the situation now is a tremendous improvement from 2009 when there were only 80 children enrolled in the school according to an evaluation report released by ICCW in 2014.

ICCW has also tried to place some of the children at residential schools in Denganikottai and Anchetty for their Ninth Standard but more often than not they have returned, unable to cope with the culture shock or the language barrier. In the schools, the instruction is in Tamil. There is no plan to address the linguistic gap. The children speak their dialect outside school. Inside, they learn to read and write in Tamil.

“Kodakarai’s people are very different to people below. The children who go from here feel completely out of place and end up coming back many a times,” said Narayanan. “But in the latest batch of students, a couple of them are trying to continue through and we hope they stick on. One of the girls from the village, S. Suseela, has even gone onto finish her BEd and is working in Chennai now.” He added, “We think she is an inspiration for the others.” Suseela’s story, of studying till Class 12 at Thali and attending college in Krishnagiri is a rare example of success in Kodakarai and one the students hope to replicate.

There are plans to extend the school up to Class 9 in the coming few years. For the people here who have sus-tained themselves on growing ragi, avarakkai since forever, the school is proving to be a crucial first step towards a connect to the world that has so far eluded them. The promises of a pucca (proper) road in return for votes this coming election has also got people’s spirit up here. “When we were young, there was no way any of us could even dream of studying till more than fifth

standard,” says M. Basappa, a long-time resident of the village. “My children are studying now, we have sent our eldest outside for his Ninth Standard and if he wants to study till 12th or even go to college, we’ll support him,” he added.

In the past two years, 26 children have completed their schooling till Class 8. Of them, six have gone onto Class 9 and one boy is completing his 11th Standard. M. Basavaraju, whose son Murthy is in the Sixth Standard, says, “When we were children, there was no school to speak of here, let alone till eighth.” Basavaraju, like many others in the village is a seasonal farmer. “While we love our village, in today’s world, you need education. I hope my

son finishes school properly and maybe even goes to college,” he said.

Leaving the middle school in Kochavur, I asked one of the children, Sithamma, who was in the Fourth Standard, what she wanted to be when she grew up. Standing up in a demure fashion, she replied with certainty, “I want to be a doctor saar.”

(Courtesy: The Caravan. This article was produced with assistance from Voice for Children, a PII-UNICEF fellowship.)

A classroom that is neat and clean, children well-attired and eager to learn.

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The seventh edition of the Laadli Media and Advertising Awards for Gender Sensitivity 2014-15 (southern and western region) was announced recently. Marianne Nazareth was one of the winners. Her story in the February 2015 issue of Grassroots, ‘How solar lamps brought home many rays of sunshine’ won her the award in the Best Feature – Magazine category. Altogether, 52 winners were shortlisted from 1200 entries. They were awarded for highlighting gender issues and concerns

Grassroots story fetches award

through their work in the print, web and electronic media. <

February 15, 20154

MARIANNE DE NAZARETH, Bengaluru

How solar lamps brought home many rays of sunshineThose who live in India’s cities are pretty selfish when they grumble about power cuts, when in rural India millions manage with kerosene lamps and no connections to the power grid at all. In response to the desperate situation, The Energy and Resource Institute began an initiative called Lighting a Billion Lives. The initiative makes it possible for people to get clean, healthy, and adequate light in their homes without any pollution or emission and at a cost that is entirely affordable

Explaining the Lighting a Billion Lives programme with empirical examples

to journalists at the Delhi Sustainable Development Sum-mit 2015, I.H. Rehman, director of Social Transformation, The Energy and Resource Institute (TERI), revealed that the organi-sation had touched more than 2.5 million lives in 23 states and 2596 villages consisting of 535812 households; 127080 solar lan-terns were distributed, 11280 solar micro-grid connections provided, and 3171 integrated domestic energy systems in-stalled. Take the example of a tiny village named Kamlapur in the district of Unnao in Uttar Pradesh. LaBL, along with its partner organisation, Humana People to People India (HPPI), New Delhi, helped the village discover a new joy with clean lighting.

Kamlesh Devi, a skilled chikan embroidery expert, was able to follow her passion of creating chikan work garments only during the day, due to a lack of light at night. “It was frustrating to have to finish stitching in time for the goods to reach the market under the dim light of the kerosene lamps and it took the joy of the craft out of it,” she says ruefully. Aged 35 with five children and educated only up to the eighth standard, Kamlesh Devi struggled to earn half her household's income. “Our lives are saddled with problems at every step and there is little redemption from

the drudgery that ails us every hour of every day,” she says. “The lanterns are a ray of hope for my soul, more than for my embroidery.” Her earnings have risen with the arrival of the lanterns from Rs 150-200 to Rs 300 per sari, which are priced according to the quality of her embroidery.

For Kamlesh Devi and others in her shoes, the benefits have brought results. “The lanterns have let me go about my domestic chores much better and helped my children to study longer and without getting their eyes red and watery,” she says. It's a win-win situation in Kamlesh's little home where the lamps have ushered in positive change, which her family can at last enjoy.

Another example is the village of Tentala in the district of Mayurbhanj in Odisha. Tentala is a remote tribal hamlet and as darkness falls, the residents have to speedily finish their daily chores. Like most other women in her village, Hinsi Hazda heads to her kitchen to prepare the family meal much before dinner time, for when darkness falls there is just feeble light from her kerosene lantern. Hinsi's husband is the sole bread earner for her family, earning about Rs 2500 a month, enough to support her family of six with two meals a day.

This is the story of every household in Tentala Village and most of the other villages in the district. But ever since solar

lamps have been provided under the Lighting a Billion Lives initiative, the villagers’ lives have changed. The extra hours that the women can work at night has given them more time to spend with family, spending less on kerosene, and to make kholi, a plate made out of sal leaves which brings them an income.

Hinsi now happily earns approximately Rs 2000 a month. "We could not even imagine liberties like new clothes on Sakranti, our rice production was barely enough to support us, now I feel more empowered because I contribute to household by not only making food for us, but by being an earner. I make 100-150 kholi each day, which we sell at Rs 1 per piece and, thanks to the minimum prices implemented by the NGO, we get enough money for our hard work," says Hinsi with a smile of satisfaction.

Arati Mahanta, entrepreneur who set up the charging station in Tentala, says that she has been encouraging the village women to make use of the additional productive hours. "We have started new income-generating activities such as the poultry breeding farm in the village." Light is important for feeding, as the birds identify food and water by sight. Also, availability of bright and intense light that does not raise temperature significantly effects production of eggs.

Dumini Murmu, who makes around Rs 3500 a month along with the help of her daughter by selling kholi to the town vendors, says "Now I have more say in the household matters. Aratiji not only inspires us to earn a living, but also motivates us to get step out of our homes, which makes us see the world beyond our villages."

At 15, Alaka Rautaray's studies seemed to be going nowhere, her dreams nothing but paper boats all ready to capsize in the dark. Coming from the little village of Managalajodi in the district of Khordha in Odisha, there was no light for her to study in the evenings as her poor farming family could not afford to buy kerosene. She became desperate and had given up hope. Then, LaBL with its partner organisation, the Council of Professional Social Workers (CPSW), stepped in and changed her life. “My confidence was nearly all gone and I had almost given up all my ambitions,” she says.

Alaka is glad she didn't let go of her dream and has regained her confidence by studying, using solar lights for up to 2-4 hours every day. The lamps save her family Rs 60 a day and her average marks have happily gone up from 32 to 45 per cent, helping her gain in confidence. “My health too has improved as I suffered from sore eyes and headaches brought on by light and smoke from the kerosene lamps.”

Alaka, like many others living in remote Mangalajodi Village was excluded from one of life's basic amenities - light at night. Today for Mangalajodi's students, the lantern is the window to the world. I cannot only study for longer hours now, I can play and do other chores even after it's dusk,' she says. The lanterns have also led to the village's tuition centre flourishing.

“The number of students and their concentration and performance has both gone up – from a few to 20 now and, with this, my dream of educating the entire village on every aspect of life may come true,” says Ullash Chandra Behera, the 38-year-old sole tutor and owner who has a graduate degree in Arts. Behera's income has risen, too, in sync with the increase in enrolments, from Rs 2500 to Rs 3000 a month. He is looking at expanding to a coaching centre.

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Village women excited with their new saviour in Rajasthan.

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Women entrepreneurs set up solar lantern rental shops.

An entrepreneur grows in confidence with her solar lantern rental business.

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March 15, 20164

Through a slew of inter-ventions, ranging from awareness drives to

developing kitchen gardens and involving local government institutions, a marked change has been achieved in the health indicators in Aurad Taluk in Bidar, Karnataka. The locals have been able to set the process of transformation into motion with assistance from Myrada, a Bengaluru-based non-profit organisation, which is implementing the Fight Hunger First Initiative (FHFI) of the German development agency, Deutsche Welthungerhilfe, in the region.

Aurad Taluk, which lies in a semi-arid zone and is home to a sizeable population of severely marginalised Dalits and Adivasis (tribals), has some of the worst social and health indicators in the southern state. “This was why we chose Aurad as the primary location for activities focusing on eliminating acute malnutrition among children.

Eradicating malnutrition and giving children a new lease of life In 2000, countries around the world pledged to fulfill the UN Millennium Development Goals (MDGs), a set of eight time-bound targets to eradicate poverty and hunger and uphold the principles of human dignity, equality and equity. India, which is ranked 63 out of 81 countries on the Global Hunger Index, has been working towards finding workable solutions to a problem that especially affects children between 0 to 5 years. In the parched and poor northern Karnataka district of Bidar, a community-led initiative to address child malnutrition in Aurad Taluk is creating a roadmap for changepUSHpA AcHAntA, Bidar, Karnataka

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Sudharani, 22, with her three sons. A couple of years ago, she used to be anaemic while her second son Sudeep had been identified as a severe and acute malnourished child. Today, they have regained their health.

We launched the campaign in September 2011 and it will go on until early 2015,” says Mohammed Siraj, programme officer, Myrada.

The work on eradicating malnutrition took off with a door-to-door survey to gauge the status of the health of mothers and children in 68 villages. Quite predictably, the results were not very positive. While the levels of undernourishment were found to be high, with several children falling in the SAM (severe and acute malnourished) Category, numerous reasons contributing to this unfortunate reality came to light like the lack of awareness among mothers, nutrient imbalance in the diet, poor hygiene and insufficient or unclean drinking water, among other.

The need of the hour was to not just initiate life-saving treatment for SAM children but build awareness regarding the critical issue to generate long-term gains.

With the twin objectives in mind, Myrada identified and trained literate women in the project villages as community resource persons (CRPs) to provide counselling, track the progress of pregnant women and neo-natal children and engage with the anganwadi (nursery) workers to ensure effective implementation of the various government health schemes.

Says Ashalatha, a CRP from Wadgaon Village: “Initially, I realised that most mothers had no idea of the risks associated with malnutrition, particularly the reduced physical and mental development of children. Ever since, I make it a point to regularly visit homes and assess the nutrition levels of children be it newborns or those enrolled in primary school. I ensure that mothers take their babies to the anganwadi centre where the anganwadi worker checks them for signs of malnutrition by measuring their mid-arm circumference, weight and height. The weight of the children is tracked as per the specifications in the growth chart issued by the World Health Organization (WHO).”

Those children who are classified as SAM are referred to the Nutritional Rehabilitation Centres (NRCs) attached to the district hospital. This is done at the recommendation of the anganwadi worker. Admitted at the NRC for 10 to 12 days, the children receive rigorous treatment that includes proper food, medicines and dedicated nursing care. Apart from this, the CRPs conduct discussions with mothers - expectant, lactating or otherwise - as well as the anganwadi workers. Typically, the parents of children sent to the anganwadis are landless agricultural labourers who survive on daily wages so they talk to them about inexpensive ways to enhance their diet and inform them about nutritional supplements, the merits of deworming, and so on.

Within primary schools, the CRPs have been encouraging children to develop nutrition gardens. Reveals Suzanna, another committed CRP, “Over the last couple of years, I have

(Courtesy: Women’s Feature Service)

been conveying the importance of growing vegetables to school-going children. If you take a walk around primary schools in the area you will find nutrition gardens lush with curry leaves, tomatoes, mint and coriander, which are utilised to prepare good quality mid day meals. The students divide their time to take care of the plants and even tell their mothers about the benefits of planting their own little kitchen garden.”

Besides information disse-mination to prompt behavioural change and promote good practices within the community, local women have been taught a magical recipe that is a quick fix solution to meet the nutritional needs of their children. Called My Nutrimix, it is a blend of powdered wheat and sprouted green gram combined with groundnut and jaggery and cooked with milk or water. It provides all the necessary calories and is rich in iron and calcium. To SAM children, the mix is provided free while others can simply make it at home.

When Sudharani, 22, a mother of three from Soralli Village, first met her CRP she was anaemic and her second son, Sudeep, severely malnourished. An agricultural labourer belonging to the Dalit Community, she earns a daily wage of Rs 60 for toiling eight hours in the fields while her husband Shankar, 26, works in the unorganised construction sector and can get Rs 500 or more depending on the job. “A couple of years back when I was informed that my son was extremely malnourished I couldn’t really comprehend what was being told to me. However, I realised that I needed to follow what my CRP and anganwadi worker were telling me to do. I have been feeding Sudeep and my other boys the Nutrimix powder and diligently attending all the meetings at the anganwadi centre,” she elaborates.

Efforts of the CRPs have enthused the accredited social health activists (ASHAs) and anganwadi workers in the taluk with a renewed sense of purpose. Says Sharada, 47, from Wadgaon, who has been an anganwadi worker for

around two decades, “Prior to this intervention, although the anganwadis and primary health centres were existing and had a staff working with basic infrastructure, families hardly knew about the link between health and nutrition and the need for regular monitoring of children’s wellbeing. Nowadays, women walk up to me to get check-ups done and pick up their take home rations. Additionally, I collaborate with our ASHA Jaishree to guide expectant mothers and supervise infant care.”

Another aspect of the FHFI has been the involvement of institutions like the gram panchayats, village health sanitation committees, school development management committees, local self-help groups and farmer’s collectives although it was not easy to establish a synergy between them.

Says Siraj, “These bodies did not unite on a single platform but we encouraged each of them to be part of the work being done to enhance the health of children and women. We talked to them about the Right to Education Act, on ways to improve mother and child nutrition, the importance of free access to government schemes, and so on. To the gram panchayats, we spoke about the importance of providing the right kind of leadership to the community, which does not demoralise them, especially the female health workers. The panches (heads) were also advised to visit Public Distribution System (PDS) ration shops to facilitate better dispensation of food grains.”

Of the 96 children that were identified as SAM in July 2013, 61 have become normal, in addition to 589 of the 641 moderately malnourished children that have regained their health. <

March 15, 2016 5

Yes, nutrition services can indeed be delivered successfullyIndiramma Amurutha Hastham is a government programme that aims at boosting the nutrient intake of pregnant women and breastfeeding mothers and reducing the prevalence and severity of maternal anaemia. The programme reaches more than 350000 pregnant women and breastfeeding mothers across some 26000 anganwadi centres in Visakhapatnam. Pregnant women and breastfeeding mothers are entitled to receive a free nutritious meal daily at the village anganwadi for 25 days a month

Poya Devi, 22, is happy that the weight of her child has increased by

half a kilogram since the past month. Her one-and-a-half-month old infant has received immunisation and since last June, Poya has been availing of the Indiramma Amurutha Hastham (IAH) Scheme in her village of Urumulu, which lies 30 kilometres from the main road in Araku Block of Visakhapatnam District in the eastern state of Andhra Pradesh.

Poya was registered at the village’s anganwadi (nursery) as soon as she got pregnant and was later sent to a hospital for institutional delivery unlike other tribal people in her village. “Earlier, we only used to eat rice and tamarind soup whenever our crops failed. But the meal scheme at the anganwadi has improved my health and I am even entitled to monthly check-ups,” says the member of the Kondadura Tribe, lovingly

dIlnAz bogA, Visakhapatnam, Andhra Pradesh

cradling her daughter in her arms.

The IAH is a government programme that aims at boosting the nutrient intake of pregnant women and breastfeeding mothers and reducing the prevalence and severity of maternal anaemia. The programme reaches over 350000 pregnant women and breastfeeding mothers across some 26000 anganwadi centres - about 30 per cent of ICDS projects in the state - located in villages where malnutrition rates are high. Some 7600 – or 29 per cent – of the anganwadis are located in hard-to-reach tribal villages.

As part of the scheme, pregnant women and breastfeeding mothers are entitled to receive a free nutritious meal daily between 11 am and 2 pm at the village anganwadi for 25 days in a month. The hot, cooked food - prepared by the anganwadi helper - contains

125 grams of cereal, 30 grams of pulses, 50 grams of green leafy vegetables, 50 grams of egg and 200 ml of milk, and provides 1052 kilocalories, 33 grams of protein, and about 500 mg of calcium (i.e. about 40 per cent of the daily requirement of these nutrients).

In far-flung villages such as Urumulu, which are tucked away in the heart of picturesque hills and are inaccessible by motorable roads, the rate of maternal deaths and child mortality are high, warn experts. Urumulu has a total population of 368, including 191 females. Tribal people, who are dependent on crop production, suffer immensely if their crops fail. The programme, therefore, has been specially designed to give succour to these vulnerable groups that are left with nothing to eat in the event of a low yield. “We get only seasonal vegetables, so this meal is a blessing for me and my daughter,” elaborates Poya.

After their meal, the women receive on-the-spot iron and folic acid supplements to take care of iron deficiency and anaemia, they are counselled by the anganwadi worker on how to improve their dietary intake and nutrition, and are encouraged to use the services provided at the monthly Village Health and Nutrition Day. The anganwadi worker diligently keeps a record of the women enrolled in the programme, the services they receive, the weight they gain during pregnancy as well as the weight of their child at birth.

Like Poya, Betukuri Lingamma, 33, is a content mother today. She found out about the meal programme through her anganwadi worker who visited her home one day. Betukuri, who has a five-year-old son, reveals that her domestic situation was bad during her first pregnancy and she used to fall ill frequently.

“I delivered a baby girl a month-and-a-half ago and this time I’m not sick as I have a better diet. I feel secure that someone is there to take care of our needs. My son, who was delivered at home, is also availing of the home ration every day,” says a grateful Betukuri.

Annayya Sharma of Nature, a specialised tribal resource non-government agency in Visakhapatnam, works as a consultant with this programme and monitors 400 villages where Rs 17 is spent per meal for each mother. “Although they somehow manage to get something for dinner, lunch is always a problem for these women. We have observed that now families are keen to send the pregnant women for meals to the anganwadi. Otherwise earlier, they used to live on fruits and roots if their crops failed as there is a critical irrigation crisis in these interior parts of the state. Here we have hills, so the ground doesn’t hold much water because of the slopes. In summer, they eat stored food,” he shares.

Sembi Ratanakumari, 18, who belongs to Urumulu, is four months pregnant and not at all worried about her diet anymore thanks to this programme. Neither is Susheela Janni, 21, who is seven months pregnant. In an area where literacy levels among the women are a mere 20 per cent, Sebi and Susheela are grateful that they were approached by Jogama Majala, their local anganwadi worker, who is also a teacher in the village school, about the free meal scheme and the medical benefits for the mother and her child.

In Champaguga Village of Kollaput Panchayat, 15 kilometres from Araku in Dumriguda Block, primitive tribal people like the Dhulia thrive deep in the hills. Dhulias, a mainly Oriya-speaking community, live off the land. Anganwadi worker Killo Rukmini, 42, has been spearheading the meal programme in her village against all odds. With a total population of 76 households comprising 356 people (175 females), Champaguga, like Urumulu, is remote.

“It took me years to circumvent the tribals’ superstition and blind faith and get them to send the women for meals. I also see what seasonal fruits and vegetables are available and prepare the nutritional charts for the new mothers accordingly,” Rukmini

says. Only after consolidating community support has Rukmini been able to issue mother-child health cards to the nine mothers in her village. She has a close connect with the community as she was born here. She says, “I married two doors from where I grew up so everyone knows me. Still, it took me a long time in getting the villagers to utilise this scheme as traditional healers are preferred.”

More than 5100 federations of women self-help groups have been engaged to support the implementation of this programme. In each anganwadi centre, a five-member committee is constituted to supervise its implementation. The committee, chaired by a representative of the local self help group federation, includes another federation representative, one pregnant woman, one breastfeeding mother and the anganwadi worker.

Programme data shows that as of August 2013 (the latest available figures), 96 per cent of the eligible women were receiving a meal and iron and folic acid tablets at least 21 days per month. In the 7600 anganwadi centres located in predominantly Adivasi Communities, over 66200 (97 per cent) eligible women are being provided a meal, a counselling session and iron and folic acid supplements regularly. Moreover, the scheme – reviewed monthly at the state level – has set an exclusive 104 telephone line to address grievances.

The content and happy faces of the women of Champaguga, Andhra Pradesh, who have availed of the popular meal scheme.

Children play in an anganwadi in Urumulu Village of Araku Block in Visakhapatnam.

(Courtesy: Women’s Feature Service)

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With the anganwadi run from a broken down shed, their

children were not just exposed to the elements but they were also vulnerable to being attacked by stray animals. The monsoon season was particularly trying because the heavy rains and a leaking roof would result in frequent closure of the facility as well as the destruction of the already meagre supply of dry rations and nutritional supplements meant for distribution among pregnant and lactating women and children under six.

For years, the Dalit women of Chaubara Jagir Village in Sonkatch Block of Dewas District struggled with the problem as no one knew how to tackle it. Who does one go to, to demand repairs to an anganwadi? How does one ensure that the centre not only opens regularly but that the anganwadi worker does her duty properly?

Since there were no answers to the pertinent questions, they suffered in silence. “Things would have gone on like this forever had Jan Sahas not started working in our area,” remarks Reena Raikwar, a Dalit woman, who finally took matters into her own hands with assistance from the Dewas-based non government organisation that empowers socially excluded Dalit, tribal and other communities in the district by protecting their rights and building the capacities.

In order to reach out to the community with relevant information and motivate them to claim their rightful entitlements under government welfare schemes, Jan Sahas has established a resource centre at Sonkatch with support from the Fight Hunger First Initiative of Welthungerhilfe, Germany. “When Jan Sahas volunteers came and told us that we could walk into the centre and explain our problem I gathered a few women from the village and went there straightaway. We told them that our children were being denied the care they deserved because the anganwadi centre was in a shambles.

Marginalised groups learn to demand what is rightfully theirsHere’s how an anganwadi centre has been officially described: ‘it’s a village centre that provides basic health care, nutrition education and supplementation, and also conducts pre-school activities for children under six years’. In other words, it is the epicentre of mother and child care at the grassroots. What if, instead of one, there were two such centres in a village? Seems like a good thing, doesn’t it. The Dalit women of Chaubara Jagir Village in Sonkatch Block of Dewas District, Madhya Pradesh, would beg to differ. In their remote hamlet, the fully-functioning anganwadi was for the upper caste women, while the other, designated to provide services to them, was in a pitiable condition till a few months agoSHURIAH nIAzI, Dewas, Madhya Pradesh

That’s when they explained to us how we could approach the senior district officials and apply for the construction of a new centre,” Raikwar recalls.

As a starting point, the Dalit families asked their sarpanch to take relevant action. He outright refused to do anything for them. This reaction, however, did not really surprise them as their community is used to being sidelined due to their low social status. So the next step was to draft an application to approach the Sonkatch sub-divisional magistrate (SDM).

While the formal application was signed by all the Dalit women in the village, around 25 of them got together to meet the SDM. When they got their one-on-one with him, they urged him to expedite the construction as their children were entitled to a safe anganwadi.

Says Kashu Bai, who was a part of the group, “The SDM took the time out to hear us because many of us had gone to meet him. The volunteers at the resource centre had told us that there is strength in numbers and that no official can ignore a large group. Besides that, we had properly drafted the application wherein we had mentioned our problem in detail. Prior to this, neither did we know which official to speak to nor did we have the confidence to do so. We used to go to the sarpanch (chief) but he seldom took interest in our issues.” That one

visit to the SDM’s office worked like magic as he immediately issued orders for building a new anganwadi. Construction began a few months later and now it’s nearing completion. Soon, the little ones will gain full access to services such as supple-mentary nutrition, immuni-sation and health check-ups.

Every year, the government introduces many welfare measures, such as low-cost housing, subsidised food grains, free education and livelihood security. Under the Disabilities Act, the physically disabled, too, are entitled to various benefits. However, being largely illiterate or semi-literate, most marginalised groups lack awareness and agency to avail of them. This is where the resource centre is bringing about a real transformation. Volunteers at the centre not only give information on all the different schemes launched but also on legislation like Right to Information (RTI) Act, Public Service Guarantee Act, and so on.

Ever since the Sonkatch Resource Centre became operational in April 2012, the Dalits and tribal people have learnt to fight for their rights with considerable success. In Mundalana, they took up the issue of availability of potable water in the Dalit neighbourhood. With only one hand pump in the basti (slum), families were already reeling under a shortage when that too

completely broke down. Despite repeated complaints and several meetings with the panchayat secretary, the man responsible for hand pump repairs, months passed with no solution in sight. The crisis severely affected the women, physically and mentally, as they spent hours on end trying to source water.

It was in those dire times that they came across the resource centre. As soon as they put forth their problem, they were guided towards the best and fastest way out. An application was drafted to be submitted to Sonkatch chief executive officer of Jal Nigam, Reena Chauhan. Thereafter, a delegation called on her to talk about the magnitude of difficulty they were facing. Without delay, she spoke to the panchayat secretary on phone and directed him to do the needful. Such was the effect that within two days the hand pump was in working order.

Says Manish Richi, a Dalit resident of Mundalana, “Once the volunteers showed us the way we took over. We have realised that we, too, have a right to basic services. Earlier, we used to feel powerless, but that’s not the case anymore. In future if we face a similar situation, we shall approach the right authority in time. We know how to go about it and have learnt how to draft applications.” There have been other positive impacts of the resource centre as well – it has led to the widespread construction of toilets in several villages in the area and many who previously didn’t figure on the Below Poverty Line (BPL) list have got their names registered.

Moreover, as per the provisions of the Forest Rights Act, the tribal people have been able to stake their rightful claim over the forest and its other resources.

Of course, this is not to say that there has been no backlash from the powerful elements in the region. In fact, the resistance has been most acute in cases involving land grabs. Elaborates Hemraj Khichi of Jan Sahas, “Some influential people had encroached on the lands of the poor tribals, who couldn’t muster the courage to stand up to them. We have been able to help them but not without some tactful planning.” Adds Om Prakash Malviya, who works at the Sonkatch centre, “Generations of Dalits have faced oppression and lived in destitution. It’s time to change things. The idea is to show them how to become strong and independent and raise their voice against the injustice. We have taken a step in the right direction.”

Volunteers at the resource centre at Sonkatch established by Jan Sahas not only provide information on all the different schemes launched but also on legislation such as the Right to Information (RTI) Act, Public Service Guarantee Act, and so on.

<(Courtesy: Women’s Feature Service)

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Form IVgrassroots - monthly

1. place of publication : Chennai2. periodicity of publication : Monthly3. printer’s name : V. Manivannan Nationality : Indian Address No.1, 127 Lattice Bridge Road, Adayar, Chennai 600 0204. publisher’s name : Sashi Nair Nationality : Indian Address Flat 3C, GRN Akshara D112, Sangeetha Colony Ashok Pillar Road K.K.Nagar, Chennai-785. editor’s name : Sashi Nair Nationality : Indian Address Flat 3C, GRN Akshara D112, Sangeetha Colony Ashok Pillar Road K.K.Nagar, Chennai-786. names and addresses of individuals who own the newspaper/magazine and partners or shareholders holding more than one per cent of the total capital: The Press Institute of India - Research Institute for Newspaper Development RIND Premises, Taramani, CPT Campus Chennai 600 113 Shareholding of more than one per cent of the capital does not arise as the The Press Institute of India - Research Institute for Newspaper Development is a non-profit society registered under the Societies Act No. XXI of 1860.

I, Sashi Nair, hereby declare that the particulars given above are true to the best of my knowledge and belief.

Sashi Nair Publisher

15.03.2016

With the help of volunteers at the resource centre, the tribal people and Dalits have been able to stake their rightful claim over their rights and entitlements.

March 15, 2016 7

Surmounting challenges to spearhead a green revolution

The naivedyam or food offering made during different prayers and rituals, for Lord Krishna at the Guruvayoor Temple in Thrissur District of Kerala, includes about 1200 bananas of a rare variety called pooja kadali. Earlier, to give the daily offering, the temple was dependent on supply from Tamil Nadu as the special variety was on the verge of extinction in Kerala. However, women agriculturists are now growing the bananas on 47 acres, under seven panchayats of Kodakara Block, and supplying them to the temple, ensuring a taste of homegrown plantain for the revered deityAjItHA menon, Thrissur, Kerala

“I am part of a five-member Joint Liability Group and we cultivate bananas,

vegetables and paddy on about 15 acres of land. We supply the fruit to the Labour Cooperative Society, which has a deal with the Guruvayur Devaswom Board, under the auspices of the state government’s Kudumbashree programme. Around 750 women in 150 groups are cultivating bananas in our block,” says Shobhana Krishnamurthy, 54, of Muttathoor Panchayat, in Kodakara Block.

Kudumbashree, the Kerala Government’s poverty allevi-ation programme launched in 1998, has brought about a green revolution in the state today solely by tapping into women’s potential for farming and entrepreneurship. “The Guruvayoor Temple only accepts pooja kadali of a stipulated size, so the bunches that don’t meet the criteria are then utilised for making rasayanam as ayurvedic preparation in collaboration with an ayurvedic pharmaceutical company. About 20000 bottles of rasayanam are being made in our block every month,” adds Krishnamurthy.

Farming has taken off in a big way among women under Kudumbashree’s collective farming and Samagra projects, implemented with active participation from Panchayati Raj Institutions (PRIs) and supported by a farming subsidy. Not only has the project increased agricultural production, it has also brought considerable fallow land back under cultivation and financially empowered thousands of women.

Joint liability Groups (JLGs), structured under the National Bank for Agriculture and Rural Development (NABARD) guidelines, have been formed to ensure agricultural credit from banks for women cultivators.The JLGs come under the interest subsidy scheme of

Kudumbashree when they avail agricultural loans from banks – the state government provides a subsidy of five per cent on the seven per cent interest of agricultural loan. So far, more than 10500 JLGs have availed of loans amounting to over Rs 123 crore under the project.

“In Muttathoor Panchayat alone, 504.85 acres is being cultivated under Kudumbashree’s collective farming and Samagra projects,” says Dhanya Vijayan, 30, Community Development Society (CDS) accountant, Muttathoor panchayat. Data collected in 2013-14 indicates that 47611 JLGs are cultivating 40218 hectares, growing paddy, fruits such as pineapple and bananas, and vegetables like bitter gourd, amaranthus, snake gourd, cowpea, water melon, bottle gourd, ginger, tapioca, ridge gourd, lady’s finger, brinjal and chilli. Coconut and cashew are popular crops as well.

“We have debunked the theory that agriculture is not profitable,” says Bina Pradeep, 39, of Vallachira Village under Vallachira Panchayat, adding, “Our group Aishwarya took a bank loan of Rs 60000 for cultivating the nendran variety of bananas on 75 cents [1 cent=0.01 acre] of land, which had been lying bare. We paid off the loan in just six months. The subsidy was a big help. We made a profit of one lakh in one season.”

As the women have discovered, the trick to making things work in their favour is by putting in their own labour. “Hiring workers is expensive in Kerala as daily wages are Rs 700-750. That is why big landlords don’t make profit. We have leased land from landowners and are still able to turn in a profit because we put in the labour ourselves,” elaborates Surabhi Sivan, 35, whose five-member JLG Jeeva leased a two-acre plot to cultivate bananas. “We paid Rs

54000 for the lease, gave back the bank’s one lakh rupees loan in six months and still made a profit,” she says proudly.

Across Kerala, there are many such success stories. Kudumbashree lists the collec-tive farming venture at Kaipram under Perambra Panchayat in Kozhikode District at the top. Here, 170 acres of fallow land was recovered and put under paddy cultivation with the efforts of 256 women belonging to 53 groups. Whereas the seeds were procured from Krishi Bhavan, the manure was provided by the gram panchayat, which gave Rs 1,80,000 for equipment. The women have turned an overall profit of Rs 20 lakh.

In another case, 30000 women banana cultivators belonging to 6000 JLGs pushed up banana production in Thiruvananthapuram District from eight to 20 metric tonnes per hectare. The phenomenal change was brought about under the guidance of the Kerala Agricultural University. Additionally, facilitated by Kudumbashree, the women executed a buy back arrangement on the produce with a private

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As the women farmers of Kerala have discovered, the trick to making things work in their favour is to put in their own labour. Hiring workers is expensive and that is why big landlords don’t make profit.

company. The JLGs leased the farming land, conducted comprehensive soil surveys, set up demonstration plots and carried out integrated pest management practices to make the venture a model project.

Ensuring a profit has been the underlining factor in Kudumbashree’s agriculture revolution. Towards this, gram panchayats across the state train women in using farming equipment and machinery, creating Kudumbashree’s own Vanitha Karma Sena or Green Army.

“Money is lost if you have to pay the coconut tree climber, the tiller machine operator or the sowing machine operator. We have trained the women to operate different agriculture related machines themselves and with loans and support available to buy equipment, most groups now own and operate their machines, saving considerable amount of money,” explains Bindu Shivdasan, 40, president, Muttathoor Panchyat. There are nine women coconut tree climbers in her panchayat and several women are operating tiller and sowing machines.

Leela C.K., 60, of Palliparam Village in Paralam Panchayat in Thrissur District, is a case in point. Her group cultivates paddy on her three-acre plot once a year. She operates her own agriculture machines. “I attended the panchayat’s training courses and can confidently work the machines, as does my friend Omana C.C., who is 60 as well. Age is no factor and this saves the group a lot of money in wages,” remarks Leela.

Apart from their regular production, the women nurture a kitchen garden on ten cents of land, producing different leafy vegetables, brinjal, lady’s finger, beans and chilli. “We share the produce and use the vegetables ourselves. This ensures a steady supply of cost-effective nutrition for our families as the labour is ours and seeds are available free from Krishi Bhavan,” says Omana.

Bad weather can ruin the crops sometimes, as experienced by Surabhi Shivan and her group Jeeva last year. However, Kudumbashree’s holistic approach towards financial empowerment worked wonders. “The micro-credit facility available under Kudumbashree allowed us to take another loan to make up the loss and this year we are sure to make a good profit,” says Shivan.

Kudumbashree has provided the wherewithal, but it is the sheer hard work, entrepreneurship and sincerity towards commitments like repaying bank loans that have seen the women in Kerala surmount challenges and hurdles such as the lack of land and finances, natural calamities and labour issues to lead a green revolution in their state, which has made them the cornerstone of the food security movement.

Leela C.K. of Palliparam Village under Paralam Panchayat in Thrissur District may be 60 years but she tirelessly works on the land and even operates her own heavy agriculture machines with ease.

(Courtesy: Women’s Feature Service)

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The Gondwana Residential Agriculture School, especially open to dropout students, is run from Bondtra, a small, dusty hamlet in Mungelli District of Chhattisgarh. Here, 60 tribal children from various districts in the state, mostly girls, are getting the incredible opportunity to gain a valuable life skills-based education. It’s proved to be a successful experiment, reaching out to the children with knowledge and skills they can use to their advantage

As soon as Rampyari Tulegam, 16, sits behind the wheel of the tractor,

with her two friends by her side, the confidence and happiness she exudes cannot go unnoticed. It looks as if she is ready to take on all of life’s challenges head on. While across the Indian countryside it is not uncommon to find women toiling away in the fields as agricultural labourers, it’s certainly rare to see young girls like Rampyari driving the tractor and tilling land.

States the youngster, “Despite the fact that most of the back-breaking agricultural work is done by women, we were constrained because certain key activities like tilling, for instance, has traditionally been done by the men only. It’s time we changed the scenario. I believe that a woman should know how to do everything on a farm so that she can truly become self sufficient. Initially, even I had found it difficult to drive a tractor and learn the finer nuances of cultivation but now I can do both tasks with ease. Fact is that if a woman puts her mind to it she can accomplish anything.”

Rampyari’s observations are amazingly astute and quite progressive considering her age and exposure to the outside world. She has developed this positive attitude ever since she enrolled at the Gondwana Residential Agriculture School (Gondwana Aabasik Shala Tyaagi Krishi Vidyalay), which is especially open to dropout students. At the school, being

run from Bondtra, a small, dusty hamlet in Mungelli District of Chhattisgarh, 60 tribal children, a majority of whom are girls, are getting the incredible opportunity to gain a valuable life skills-based education. They come from various districts, including Surajpur, Jangir, Chanpa, Balrampur, Bilaspur, Kawrdha and Rayagad.

It was in 2010 that the institution was set up by the Gondwana Society on the suggestion of their leader, activist Hirasingh Markam. Says Markam, 70, “Tribals are among the most neglected and deprived people in India and, consequently, our girls are even more vulnerable to the effects of extreme poverty and a lack of opportunity. Illiteracy, ill health and violence are a part of their life and they are unable to break free from this vicious cycle. Education can play a crucial role in turning things around but there are very few avenues available to them. That is why we thought of starting a school where children not only get formal knowledge but they learn some special life skills so that they do not have to run for jobs. Instead, they can do something on their own and earn a proper living.”

If Rampyari is making heads turn as she moves around the village comfortably on a tractor, then Sumitra Siyaram, 15, from Barkutia Village in Surajpur District, is busy learning all there is to know about stitching. She dreams of setting up her own tailoring shop in her village in order to financially support her family of five and, of course, make attractive outfits. “After my father passed away, my mother worked really hard and made countless sacrifices to raise us. Now it’s my turn to help her out. I want to send my younger siblings to school and give them a better life,” she shares.

Girls like Rampyari and Sumitra are thinking of engaging in gainful employment because they are slowly but surely developing skill sets that enable them to do so. Their schedule at the residential facility is quite rigorous. Every day after their morning prayers, instead of heading to a regular classroom, the students make their way to

the open fields to learn farming firsthand. From preparing the land to sowing to harvesting they understand and go through the entire process. Later in the day, it’s time for more conventional studies along with classes in computers, embroidery and even cooking.

“Four years back I was shattered and completely clue-less about my future. In 2009, after my father, the only earning member, met with an accident we fell on really bad times. As there was no money for his treatment we had to mortgage our small patch of land. He was confined to bed for many months and to keep our home running I had to leave school in Class 9. I started working with my mother as a wage labourer. My three other siblings were very young to work so I had to step up. Although my parents had wanted me to continue with my education they were helpless. Providing one square meal in the day was more important than schooling. But when we heard about this free school, my parents decided to let me go,” recalls Rampyari.

Rampyari’s outlook towards life has changed after coming here. “During my four-year stay I have learnt everything about cultivation and I am raring to get back and put all my knowledge to good use to uplift my family. Apart from that I have completed my schooling till Class 12 through the distance education mode. I am also confident that I will complete my graduation. This school has taught me to dream,” she adds with a beaming smile.

Rampyari’s classmate, Seema Purti, 18, who has come from Gorella Pendra Village in Bilaspur, has a similar inspiring story to share, “I was studying in

Class 7 but had to leave school because of a severe financial crisis. When some years back, two consecutive droughts hit our village my father, a small farmer, had no work or source of income to fall back on. It was during this difficult time that we came to know of this school that gives free education with some vocational training. In the last four years I have become an expert at farming and proficient at sewing. Apart from this, I am preparing to give my Class 12 exams by next year.”

Even though most of its students call the institution “a real blessing in their life”, getting it started initially and keeping it going ever since has not been free of challenges. It is flourishing only because of the singular support and contribution of the local community. For instance, the five-acre land on which the children learn farming has been donated to the school by Sriti Durve, 33. Sharing her reasons for this generous gesture she says, “I clearly remember the time when I was forced to drop out of school in Class 8 and get married. I do not want that to happen to my daughters or to any other young girl. I want to see them do the things that I could only dream of.”

SARAdA lAHAngIR, Mungelli, Chhattisgarh

Today, the school runs independently with its own income generated from the farm. Any shortfall is taken care of by the community. Ten villagers share the cost of books on a rotation basis, while every month 10 families donate Rs 10 each along with three kilos of rice to keep the mess going.

“Till date we have managed everything without any financial help from the government. We have invited agricultural scientists who volunteered to teach students the different techniques of paddy cultivation. These days, we get volunteers to teach computers and tailoring. The elderly women from the village take the cooking classes,” reveals Dwibijendra Singh Markam, coordinator and secretary of Gondwana Society.

With a rapidly modernising economy, the already marginalised tribal youth are further getting pushed into a corner.

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Sumitra Siyaram, 15 (closest to camera), from Barkutia Village in Surajpur District, is busy learning all there is to know about stitching as the other girls seated near her are.

(Courtesy: Women’s Feature Service)

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Rampyari Tulegam at the wheel of the tractor, with her two friends by her side..

Girls get cooking lessons at their school.

March 15, 2016

An extraordinary school proves to be a ‘real blessing in their life’

March 15, 2016 9

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In biting cold, women toil daily to fetch waterWomen in the mountainous region of Ladakh spend the entire year with a singular focus on intense hard work. During summer, they struggle against Kargil’s cold, parched geography with little vegetative growth, producing just enough for survival during winter. And when everyone is virtually in hibernation during the six months of extreme cold weather, they keep themselves busy with various sources of income generation. On their toes all day long, the women work in the fields ensuring food security for their families and, in the process, creating a source of income in the village

In the scorching midday heat, Tsewang Ladol steps into the courtyard outside

her house and calls out loud to her neighbours, her dusty grey goncha (traditional Buddhist robe) flapping in the light breeze. Her voice carries easily across the silence of the mountainous Ladakhi Desert, and four elderly women working the fields in the distance look up in acknowledgement. Soon after, they’re on their way up to Ladol’s house, climbing the rugged path with practiced ease.

With wrinkles lining their weathered faces, these Ladakhi women reflect a charming attitude that compliments the breathtaking landscape of the otherwise arid snow land. In this mute corner of the world, living in a village tucked away on the border of Ladakh’s districts of Kargil and Leh, they pose a challenge to the patriarchal Indian society. On their toes all day long, the women work in the fields ensuring food security for their families and, in the process, creating a source of income in the village.

Agriculture essentially provi-des the women here with food as well as some extra cash that they use in times of contingency. In addition to the local crops, women cultivate vegetables such as onion, potatoes, peas, cucumber and mustard. Then operating collectively in self-help groups, they sell the surplus produce to locals, labourers working on the National Highway and middlemen who further retail it at higher rates in the Kargil market. They also make mustard oil to sell in town.

cHetnA VeRmA, Ladakh, Jammu & KashmirThe profit made is deposited in the group’s bank account.

This set pattern, however, has steadily become tougher to follow. Reveals Ladol, 35, “Earlier, we would be able to save some money by selling vegetables. But in the last few years, the production has gone down drastically with the increasing water crisis in our area. We are able to grow only as much as would suffice for our families. Selling vegetables to others isn’t an option anymore.”

While the absence of a regular source of water for irrigation has been a constant obstacle in the land, with climate change showing its effects, the problem has only escalated. Over the last six decades, there has been a considerable drop in the snowfall in the area. This has directly affected the quantity of natural water resources available for irrigation. Rigzin Dorjay, 65, remembers how as a child, he had seen three to four feet of snowfall that has now dropped to the bare minimum.

Tsering Yangzen of Darchik Village, located along the mighty Indus River, hails from a small community that believes it belongs to the ‘pure’ Aryan race. He firmly believes that the drying up of water resources each year is jeopardising the very future of his people since they depend solely on agriculture for their food security. Tashi Dawa, 67, who is the wife of the village head, agrees with Yangzen’s observation. Sharing her worry, she says, “In the last 30 to 40 years, the productive area has reduced from 10 kanals to five (1kanal = 5445 sq ft). We are concerned about how our coming generations are going to manage once these resources dry up completely.”

An ancient reservoir has been their only steady source of water supply. Elaborates Ladol, “During the King’s rule, our ancestors had constructed a dam to fight our water problems. Pipes connected to the natural spring fill up the dam that acts as a reservoir. This water is directed

to every field in the village. The King had decided on the method of taking turns at the irrigation – and till date everyone follows that process. It used to help us avoid the additional strain of walking long distances for water, but that’s not the case anymore.”

Although the reservoir has been renovated recently by the Ladakh Autonomous Hill Development Council, it does take longer to fill up each summer. What this means for the everyday lives of women across the region is an even bigger challenge. A report published in a regional newspaper in July 2014 reported on how many villages in Kargil, particularly in the South Region, had been badly affected by drought due to insufficient water in the streams. Farmers have lost the produce of an entire season, adversely affecting their already uncertain economic condition.

In village Haniskote, women are struggling to cultivate with less water and, worse, facing the consequences of a poor yield. “The daily grind starts early. Working in the fields for 6-8 hours ensures that we are able to provide food for the family and also keep our SHGs afloat. That simply leaves us with no time for ourselves. We suffer physical strain that affects our health and have consequently started looking older than we are,” says Tsewang Dolkar, 27, wryly, pointing towards the wrinkles on her face.

When there is low yield, women save food for their families and live on leftovers. The strenuous work in the fields, coupled with low nutritional intake, compromises their health severely. Men from the community are either labourers or jobless. Moreover, when faced with a drought-like situa-tion they migrate to Leh Town or other areas like Jammu, Srinagar, Himachal Pradesh or Chandigarh (Punjab) in search of work. Women are left behind to deal with all the crippling problems brought on by drought,

poor health and extreme weather conditions. Today, the entire Ladakh province is threatened by unsustainable tourism, over-grazing, indiscriminate resource extraction and increase in infrastructure. The repercussions of climate change are clearly visible as the Indus River, whose main catchment area - about 59146 sq km - lies in Ladakh, has been adversely affected by the melting of its feeding glacier Naimona'nyi. According to a major study, the important glacier had shrunk by 155m from 1976 to 2006, at a rate of about five metres per year.

Unfortunately, the coming years are likely to see the crisis intensifying, with increased cases of drought, cloudburst, changing snowfall pattern and unexpected rains in this cold desert. Any mitigation, if at all done, is likely to ignore the effects of this on the health of women who have considerably less access than men to critical information on weather alerts and cropping patterns, affecting their capacity to respond effectively to the vagaries of changing climatic patterns.

The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), established by the United Nations in 1988 to gather data and develop knowledge about climate change, concludes that, ‘Climate change impacts will be differently distributed among different regions, generations, age classes, income groups, occupations, and genders’. India’s National Action Policy on Climate Change, too, mentions the need to have a gender-sensitive approach towards climate change. Whether the women of Kargil, with their sun-kissed faces and tired bodies, will benefit from the policy change remains to be seen.

In addition to the local crops, Ladakhi women cultivate vegetables and, then operating collectively in Self-Help Groups, sell the surplus produce.

(Courtesy: Women’s Feature Service. This article is part of the writer’s work under a National Media Fellowship awarded by the National Foundation of India.)

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