The United Nations International Day of Women is just a
few days away and predictably the debate is divided into two distinct factions.
While the first faction asks women to stop treating themselves as a special
interest group, the second says feminism is not only relevant but also
necessary even in this day and age. One cannot deny that rights of women are
violated with impunity across the world every day. Therefore, even as empowered
and educated women climb out of gender-defined silos, there are millions of
women whose self esteem has been crushed by either cultural conditioning or
outright persecution.
This is why feminists today find themselves grappling
with questions that threaten to divide them along race, colour, sexuality and
caste lines. These distinctions add newer layers to an already complicated
debate. Often women who are privileged on account of skin colour, wealth or
caste feel alienated by those less privileged. It is true that black, dalit,
lesbian and poor women face the brunt of sexual discrimination in more extreme
ways. But if the underprivileged lot bands together and blocks out the
so-called privileged lot, feminism loses. This is because privileged and
empowered women are more likely to help their less fortunate sisters.
Take the case of 51 year old Rathi* who works as a
domestic help. She was born into a land owning family of middle-income
agriculturists in a village in Andhra Pradesh. She had to stop schooling after
5th standard as the school in her village did not offer education
beyond that grade. Some village boys would cycle almost two hours each way to
go to another school, but Rathi’s parents were vary of sending their daughter
that far away. “Mere bhai log ko iskool
nahi jaane ka tha. Abhi main akele kaise jaun?”, she explained. She took to
agriculture and later started a day care facility for children of agricultural
labourers in her village. A few years later she entered into an arranged
marriage with a man who claimed to drive cars for rich people and even had a
flat in Mumbai.
When Rathi came to Mumbai after marriage nearly three
decades ago, she realized her husband was a taxi driver and did not own either
his vehicle or his home, a shabby shanty in a smelly slum. Rathi started
working as a domestic help. Gradually she started taking up jobs as a baby
sitter or care giver to old people. She learnt how to give body massages to
women. She started turning the family’s financial health around. She encouraged
her husband to move out of the slum and into a pucca house with its own toilet.
They bought a TV, a fridge and even started eating out once a month. And then Rathi
got pregnant. She had to cut back on work hours.
Her husband started blaming her for mounting expenses. He
took to alcohol and gambling. Rathi hoped the baby would change everything. But
fatherhood did not make her husband more responsible. By the time Rathi had
delivered her second child her husband had sold of most of her share of her
ancestral property in the village. He had falsified her thumb impression.
That shook her. She grabbed what remained of her savings,
sold off her meager jewellery, took her little sons and moved to Thane where
accommodation was cheaper than Mumbai. She once again started juggling jobs as
a domestic help, baby sitter and masseur. When her sons were old enough she got
them enrolled at the local school. She spent carefully and saved well.
A few years later she purchased some land in her village.
She hired daily wagers to work her fields, hiring only women. She did not
discriminate against women from castes lower than hers. She ran an informal
aangan wadi for the children of not just her labourers, but also all other
working women in the village. She personally took charge of the financial
accounts of her agricultural business and made sure all her employees were paid
on time.
And then one day, out of the blue, her husband returned
and begged Rathi to take him back. “Usne
sorry bola, roya bhi,” she explains. Rathi sold a part of her land and
moved back to Thane where she comfortably slipped back into her role as the
principal breadwinner for the family even as her husband struggled to hold on
to odd jobs.
A few years later, Rathi brought her 12 year old niece Archana* from the village and enrolled the girl in school. But Archana dropped out after
three years. But luckily by then she had picked up enough English to be able to
work in the homes of expats. She started as her aunt’s assistant and today at
19, she works as a housekeeper and baby sitter. “Foreigner log jyada paise dete hain toh 6-7 jagah ki bajaaye, 2-3 kaam
pakad sakte hain,” she shares. Archana contributes to household expenses,
sends some of her income to her parents and is also saving money to buy
agricultural land just like her aunt.
Rathi helped change the lives of other women because she
was empowered and to an extent more privileged than them. Now imagine, would
this success story be possible had Rathi been alienated on account of her
privilege? We sisters have to stick together and help each other. We cannot fight amongst ourselves. We cannot
find a problem for each solution. It works the other way round. Modern
feminists must strive for unity even as we understand and accept greater
diversity.
**((Names changed on request. Both Rathi and Archana refused
to be photographed for this story))