Harnessing Organic Wealth

This Article originally appeared in The Gujarat, in 2012.

A narrow path snakes its way down into a valley checkered with lush green fields where a single storehouse structure stands out. “Gram Lakshmi Sammohik Vermicompost Unit” reads a bright green board outside the structure. Inside are 40 rectangular beds in rows of 20 on each side separated by an aisle in between. Each bed is numbered and allotted to the women of the Jai Maldari Mahila Mandal of the picturesque Asai village in the Sabarkantha District.

10 Rabbari (a dairy-farming community) women, members of the Mahila Mandal demonstrate the procedure involved in the production of Vermicompost, an organic fertilizer, proven to have given far better results as compared to its chemical counterparts. All kinds of organic solid wastes are brought and dumped into the respective beds allotted to them, each with a capacity of around 2500 kgs. A bed is then fed with 20 kgs of worms which turn the waste into organic compost. Each vermicomposting cycle takes 45 days for completion. After which the product is packed in 25 kg bags sold at the rate of Rs.5/kg. The worms reared in the compost beds are also sold at Rs.125 per kg. Therefore, the Mahila Mandal earns around Rs.12, 500 from one bed every two months.

 “We have already got orders for 15 lakh kilos of organic compost from contractors in Rajkot, Petlad etc. We have even tried the product in our castor crops and have witnessed a remarkable 40% increase in the produce, not to mention the better quality” says Leelaben Desai, a proud-owner of 4 buffaloes, a farm and a member of the SHG.   Standing next to her, a smartly dressed Tushar Rathore, Assistant Project Manager, Marketing Rural Cottage Services, Mission Mangalam, explains “With funds through convergence of various schemes like, SGSY, NREGA, TSC these units were set up around two years ago. Under the first phase of Mission Mangalam, we talked the members of erstwhile SHGs into being a part of this project. Though initially reluctant, once these women saw organic fertilizer’s efficiency and the high returns, they agreed. Their farmer husbands also encouraged them. Consequently, we now have 42 such functional units in Sabarkantha alone.”

Talking on the marketing aspect, Mr. Joseph Fernandes, District Level livelihood manager, Mission Mangalam elaborates , “The main roles of Mission Mangalam are to stimulate community involvement and to create market linkages. For the Vermicompost units, an internal market was already present within the network of Sakhi Mandals working in the Agriculture sector. To further expand the markets, the Mission Mangalam team planned to publish an advertisement in a popular regional daily. The inflated prices of Urea and DAP in the last quarter were a great boon. A demand for 15 lakh kilos from this unit alone is what followed. Gujarati farmers have now realized that not only is this product more efficient, but also way cheaper. ”

Conversations over hot tea in the portico of Jassi Ben’s newly constructed pink yellow house (a result of the convergence of Indira Awas Yojana and Mission Mangalam) reveal that this constant source of livelihood has unleashed a new wave of self-confidence in these women. So much so, that they smartly handled a troublesome bank official creating problems for years over minor transactions related to their Sakhi Mandal account. “We told him we would have to take legal action. Soon enough the man mended his ways”, chuckles Jassi Ben with a sense of achievement.

Discussing what the future holds, the women dreamily say, “We want our market to expand and we plan to grow into an autonomous producer company shortly.”

 Madhurima Mallik

Where the storks dare to fly……..

This Article originally appeared in The Gujarat, in 2012.

Bringing smiles to couples across the world via Reproductive Tourism

One year back, in Chennai, while researching on a story on infertility, I woke up to the fact that inability to reproduce is a bane in the lives of myriad married couples across the globe. The pangs of childlessness can cause serious psychological problems leading to depression, broken marriages and even suicides stemming from a deep sense of disability and deprivation.

   There is no denying the fact that almost every human being lives to reproduce at some stage of life. This feeling often drives couples to think of unimaginable ways to reproduce. Remote possibilities such as surrogacy are now a common reality. Some of us would deridingly call it a womb on rent, when a woman bears a child for someone else since in in-vitro fertilization (IVF) process the egg of the biological mother is fertilized in a test-tube and placed in the womb of the surrogate.

It was in Chennai that I was told about Anand in Gujarat, which has emerged as the surrogacy hub of the country. A year later, having chanced upon the opportunity, me and my colleague embarked upon a captivating journey to the unassuming town of Anand which has made an indelible mark on the world map for reproductive tourism.

Lost in the maze of dusty bylanes meandering through the city; a few discreet enquiries later we realised that Akanksha clinic and Dr. Nayana Patel were household names for the people of the city. Making our way through a sea of expectant patients, we knocked at the door of Dr. Nayana’s small yet tidily organized cabin. We were greeted warmly by the unassuming lady, whose fame far precedes her name.

“It all started in 2003 when a couple approached me for the treatment of infertility.” Dr.Nayana told us. The lady did not have a uterus and the marriage turned turbulent because of her inability to bear children. In a bid to save her daughter’s marriage, the mother decided to become a surrogate at 44; after IVF (in-vitro fertilization) she delivered twins, her own genetic grandchildren! The medical wonder turned out to be a blessing; it saved the marriage and restored happiness to the family. Since then, there was no looking back. Dr.Patel was flooded with desperate cries for help from the world over.  She set up a surrogate hostel, “Nest”, in 2007-08 and the Anand Surrogacy Trust was set up in 2008 with the funds that came from the parent couples.

On entering the gates of one of the cozy looking two-storeyed buildings, we met a group of cheerful women at various stages of pregnancies, busy chatting along while knitting or sewing. The warden Nirmalaben, an erstwhile JNM nurse, told us that it was time for their stitching classes. We met the tailor couple Geetaben and Chetanbhai, who train these women and who were all praises for the enthusiasm and interest of their wards. Their best pupil Ganga (23) is a two-time surrogate who has her children of her own.  She showed us some samples of her neat stitches. With the help of these classes, she hopes to set-up her own little tailoring shop in future and wants to utilise the money she gets, to educate her children and buy them a home.

Apart from stitching classes, the women can chose from an array of vocational trainings offered to them during their stay at the house. The Anand Surrogacy Trust has given out loans for 8600 motorized sewing machines to the surrogates and also provided dress and study material to their children. They celebrate festivals together and even have elaborate baby showers. There were a total of 29 women staying at this home at the time of our visit, each pursuing an individual dream.

It was lunchtime in the other surrogate house and we were offered to share a meal with the surrogates. Over lunch, we asked one of the women if she regretted her decision and if her family was supportive enough. Pat came the reply, “No, I would never regret doing this and as for my family, it is for them I am doing this and they understand. As far as I am concerned, being a mother myself, I can understand what a childless mother goes through and I am more than happy that I am instrumental in helping one out.” Swamped by mixed emotions, we were taken back to the clinic by Omar, the auto driver who helps the surrogates commute to the hospital and back.

Back at the clinic we met Sharda, who had lost her husband, the only earning member of the family when she had come to become a surrogate leaving her 13 year old son with her mother-in-law. Today, with the help of the money she has received, she owns a farm and employs people to work for her. She could even educate her son. Her satisfaction was visible in her gleaming eyes.

One disturbing question that was irking us still was, about the attachment that the surrogate is bound to develop for the baby she nurtures in her womb. Dr. Nayana Patel told us that psychiatrist Dr. Neepa Shah counsels these women at every stage of the pregnancy and also since these women are already married and have their own children (this being a prerequisite for becoming a surrogate), they learn to let go of this attachment.

It is indeed remarkable that one small city in Gujarat has turned into reality what might seem to be a distant dream for the rest of India. The state has set a precedent in embracing humanist ideas by facilitating reproductive tourism which has proved to be immensely valuable. Apart from empowering the surrogates, it is bringing in a lot of revenue for the state itself, furthering its development. Dr. Patel told us that couples from all parts of the world come to her. She has successfully performed 98 IVFs so far. She further said that she was thankful to the State Government for its assistance at every step, starting from extending warm hospitality to the couples to the speedy issuance of passports and birth certificates to the new-borns.

Cynics may argue on the ethics of the process. But can cynics give a child to a childless couple and empower the surrogates not only through financial independence but also through a sense of working for a noble cause, asks Dr. Patel.

As we walked out of the gates of Akanksha Clinic we met a teary-eyed couple from US returning home with their new-born in their arms and Dr. Patel’s words appeared all the more prophetic.

 Madhurima Mallik.

 

Nari Adalats

Redefining social justice

This Article originally appeared in The Gujarat, in 2012.

Not very long ago, our cook Rekha used to come accompanied by a shy, pretty teenage girl, her niece Kajal. While helping her aunt with the kitchen chores she would take an occasional peep at the television, evidently enamoured by the shiny sari clad bejeweled protagonists of our daily soaps. It wasn’t hard to tell that she harboured sweet dreams of marital bliss, of escape from the rigours of the monotonous domestic work she part took in.  One day, Rekha broke the news of Kajal’s grand wedding to us. She couldn’t stop singing paeans of the doting husband Kajal had found for herself.

Less than two months later, grim-faced, she asked my mother for a day off saying that she had to pay a visit to Kajal’s in-laws. She brought the girl back home. Kajal had been subjected to acute physical and mental torture for dowry.

Our history is replete with incidents where women have suffered in silence. Sadly, such stories have never made the headlines and have been easily forgotten after evoking momentary sympathy.

In modern times while laws of the state have striven for an egalitarian society, sadly gender equality has remained a myth. This might be contested, by stating that more and more women are standing up for their rights. But such cases are rare restricted only to the educated or instances where some women’s organizations take up the cause.

However, while sifting through documents for scripting an advertisement, I came across a news story on Nari Adalats and how their remarkable success in Gujarat is being lauded nationwide. As I read on I realized that Gujarat is leading the nation in women’s emancipation too. It has been continuously taking proactive steps to ensure social and legal justice for women throughout the state.

 Modeled on the Lok Adalat concept, Nari Adalats are block level autonomous tribunals of women operated by them for addressing their grievances. These bodies are supported by Mahila Samakhyas of each district. 42 of them have been sanctioned throughout the state with the oldest ones in Vadodara district which started in 1995.

As I learnt that today there are a total of 7 Mahila Adalats in Vadodara, namely Waghodia, Chota Udaipur,Pavi Jetpur, Naswadi, Sankheda, Dhaboi and Kamati talukas of Vadodara which  meet every Monday in the Taluka Panchayat office premises of their respective blocks, I decided to visit one of them to get a firsthand experience of the proceedings of a Nari Adalat.

Eager to witness the process of law reaching out to a common woman, I met the District Project Co-ordinator, Parulben Pandya, of the Mahila Samakya in Vadodara district. She told me, “Earlier, the Mahila Samakyas had representatives (CRPs- Cluster Resource Persons) visiting each village interacting with the women and discussing their problems. They motivated 5 women from each village to form a sangh and these sanghs from all the villages in a block came together to form a federation which started conducting the Nari Adalats. The sangh members were given three months of legal training towards this.” 

Loaded with this much information and accompanied by a CRP (Ketalben) and a camera person, I reached the Waghodia Taluka Panchayat, to attend its weekly 12 to 4 Nari Adalat hearing. On the first floor of the old building, huddled together in a circle were around 30 women of all age groups including 2 infants. Sighting the familiar Ketalben the group erupted into cheerful cries of greeting and queries about the new person, that being me. A register was quickly pulled out to record my attendance and other necessary details. A loud and confident voice asked me for an introduction assuring they would let me participate in the proceedings which would follow later. 

The first case was a fresh one I was told. A young girl with a wailing infant stepped in.  Rashmi, was a Rajput girl from Jambuwada. She was married early because of an ailing mother and financial troubles. Soon after the wedding her husband started threatening to kill her. He sold her stree-dhan(belongings she had brought with her from her parental house) and has been absconding for three days with their one year old daughter. The adalat members comforted the weeping Rashmi and decided to issue a notice to her husband. I was curious about what would happen if he chose to ignore it. “Some of us will go to his house and ask him to appear at the Adalat. If he still refuses the police will co-ordinate with us. ” was the united reply. In any case if the second party refuses to respond after repeated reminders, some members of the Adalat go with policemen from the local thana to make sure that both the parties are heard. Accordingly, they arrive at a consensus, I was informed.

The second case was, to my surprise an appeal by a man Mukeshbhai, for child custody. The seemingly flustered man showed pictures of his four year old daughter in his wallet. He said his ex-wife was refusing to let him meet his daughter for the last 7 months. They had got a divorce on the condition that the mother would let the father meet his child every two months, failing which the custody could be contested. The Adalat members listened with rapt attention almost sympathizing with the man’s story. Suddenly, one of them sitting close to the petitioner pointed out, “Are you sure you can take care of a 4 year old with your meager income?” The enraged man went on the defensive, now hurling abuses at the estranged wife and saying, “What I do with my child is my business alone, I do not want to educate her beyond primary school as she would follow in her mother’s footsteps. I would make her look after my aging parents; you just get me my daughter.” I shifted at my spot feeling uncomfortable with the tension in the air. To my utter delight, far from being intimidated, the women around me did not as much as flinch. Their composure was comforting. They simply said, “Start an account for your daughter with the federation and deposit a monthly sum of Rs.1000, if you agree we take your case further. Your time is up for today.”

By this time I wanted to pay a visit to the police station having spotted it in the same campus before. A couple of members enthusiastically escorted me. At the station the Assistant Sub-Inspector, I.S. Pandav, greeted us warmly. “They have shouldered half of our burden; crime against women has reduced by more than 50% in the locality ever since the behens of Nari Adalats have taken up the onus.” said ASI Pandav, full of admiration for these gritty women.

Back at the adalat, the members had by then, successfully counseled a couple into reconciliation. I asked if they would keep a tab and check if the matter was fully resolved. They told me each case was allotted a follow-up period of two years and the members personally went and checked if all was well. I further asked what if that was not the case and the matter had worsened in the meantime.  “We are not here to give out punishments. If a matter needs more than discussion and counseling, we hand it over to the court of law” I was told. The best part is that the contesting parties pay a nominal amount of Rs.251 (only if they can afford to), while filing a case and that is all they have to pay. This money goes to the Nari Adalat fund and is used to sponsor the trips the members needed during follow-ups.

All this while I was so engrossed in the proceedings, I did not feel time pass by. Amidst hugs, farewell and invites to visit again, I left the building premises overwhelmed by this simple mechanism of empowerment. A striking example of the innate ability of women to manage kitchen to court with equal élan, I pondered. Watching these champions of social equality, I was confident that justice could finally be brought to Kajal.

                                                                                                                   

 Madhurima Mallik