Women Water Professionals: Inspiring Stories from South Asia

2012

Preface

Water is women’s work in most of South Asia, because of the historically gendered division of labour in each of our nations. There is also a sharp divide between water management in the domestic and the productive spheres. Both traditional and modern water organisations are largely masculine spaces, where women have few roles or none. In recent decades, the need for reform in the water and sanitation sector has led to attempts to alter institutional structures from the grassroots to the policy level. However, women continue to be largely restricted to participation in community-based domestic-level programmes, without being in a position to take decisions about water and sanitation. While socio-cultural constraints across South Asia are a major reason for this, the culture of the water sector itself is a significant constraint.

It is in this context that the work of the small numbers of women, who have been systematically engaging with water as professionals or otherwise, gains importance. These pioneering women in South Asia have found novel ways of approaching water and sanitation management. Their stories of struggle and achievement are little known outside their immediate environs and have scarcely been documented. This collection, therefore, focuses on a cross-section of women who have challenged socio-cultural norms and crossed personal and professional boundaries. The profiles cover women from five countries: Bangladesh, India, Nepal, Pakistan and Sri Lanka. They include women at the grassroots and the community-level, in local bodies, activists and journalists; women who are working as administrators, engineers, scientists, consultants, action-researchers, academics and donors, and the very few women activists and researchers who are now with donor agencies. We have tried to trace the multifarious journeys of these remarkable women, to provide a glimpse into their work as committed participants, decision-makers and inspiring leaders in diverse areas of water resources and sanitation management.

This book has been a vast collective effort from its conception to its production. The first step in the process was taken in 2007 when SaciWATERs facilitated a situational analysis of women professionals working in the water bureaucracy in Bangladesh, India, Nepal and Sri Lanka. In India the analysis was restricted to Andhra Pradesh and Maharashtra states, and in Nepal and Sri Lanka academics and NGO professionals were also included. In 2009, SaciWATERs organised a special panel on the status of women water professionals in South Asia at the World Water Week (WWW) in Stockholm.¹ As Kusum Athukorala of NetWwater Sri Lanka remarked, this was the only session at WWW 2009 that specifically focused on gender issues. Seema Kulkarni of SOPPECOM, Pune, who had spearheaded the study, presented a synthesis of the different country reports.² She highlighted two sets of issues that determine the presence of women in water management. The first is the educational choices that women make. So, it is important to challenge assumptions about the ‘hard’ ‘masculine’ disciplines that underlie water management. Second, are the constraints that women in the sector face and their struggle to balance the private and the public arena. So, changing the understanding of women’s work is very necessary.

Recognising that any assessment of the status of women water professionals is only a small part of the work required to cross gender boundaries, the panelists spoke of discrimination in the everyday practices in the sector and the policies that seemed to be designed ‘by men, for men and in the interest of men’. It was pointed out that technical higher education in the water sector in South Asia did not provide insights into gender and social relations, and that interdisciplinarity in water education was vital. Indeed, not only in South Asia but even in the Netherlands, women who entered the water sector ‘disappeared’ because policies and practices to retain and value women as professionals were lacking. The discussion from the floor endorsed the study findings, calling for reconceptualising women’s work and the ‘science’ of water management; for gender policies in the water sector, increasing women water professionals, providing basic amenities and benefits to women, training and capacity building and mentoring and networking amongst women professionals as ways forward.

Summarising the session and the lively discussion from the floor, the panel Chair, Sumi Krishna said the issue of women water professionals is insufficiently discussed and theorised even within gender and development discourses. The recent trends of engineering education showed that the space for women was opening slowly. A critical mass of women water professionals is important but not necessarily a sufficient condition for changing practices and policies in the sector. Our endeavour has to be to change the perspectives and the organisational culture.

The SaciWATERs session at the World Water Week drew considerable interest and provided the impetus to seek out and document the many inspiring stories of women working in the water and sanitation sector in South Asia. These stories of struggle and achievement complement the information in the Situational Analysis and, therefore, we have also included here a slightly abridged version of the Synopsis from the 2009 study.

Thirty two women feature in this collection of Inspiring Stories. Selecting the women to profile involved a long process. First, small groups were formed in each of the five countries, who then drew up representative lists of women in all the categories that we wished to cover. These lists were scrutinised and ratified by country-wise core groups. In some cases, this led to intense discussion and even formal voting to select from among the suggested names. The next task was to identify able and interested writers, journalists, or consultants to interview the women and profile their life and work in a non-academic manner that is accessible to the general reader.

Drawing upon SaciWATERs’ wide network in South Asia, we contacted writers in each of the countries. In some countries, this was a relatively easy task with the suggested writers readily agreeing to contribute to the project; in others it required more persistence. Not surprisingly, this was a time-consuming and painstaking process, sometimes frustrating when no head-way was made even after months of concerted efforts. After the writers had been confirmed, the women to be profiled were contacted and told about the plan to profile their life and work experiences for a wide audience. Initially, a few of them were apprehensive about being featured in this way, but eventually almost all were supportive. They generously gave their time and shared their life stories, even sometimes taking interviewers along on field visits to gain insights into their work. They also agreed to be photographed in their day-to-day lives in offices, field sites and homes, with colleagues and families.

The majority of profiles have been done by writers from the same country but this was not possible in a very few cases. And in one case, the interview had to be done by email. In a very few cases, the stories of the women selected to be profiled, could not ultimately be obtained. In one case, the locale was so remote that no writer could be identified to travel there; in a few cases, while the women were enthusiastic and co-operative, the writers were not able to submit the stories in time to meet our publishing schedule; in a few cases, the interviews were reworked by the editors or the profiled woman herself.

The profiles, covering a wide range of experiences, were extensively edited for consistency within the collection. Where necessary, we also added information that we felt would be of interest. We tried to revert to the authors and encouraged them to check with the profiled women for clarifications and comments on the edited versions, and their suggestions were incorporated into the final versions that appear in this collection.

The stories that have emerged from this process depict the rare motivation and determination that characterises the women in their personal lives and the public space of water management. Despite the wide range of contexts in which they live and work, we realised that the obstacles they face and their endeavours to break barriers and cross boundaries have much in common across countries, sectors, even sometimes across class. Hence, this collection is not organised by country but in broad occupational areas. About half the women work predominantly at the grassroots, among communities and with NGOs, as activists and journalists. As many are administrators, scientists, academics and action-researchers. A small number of researchers and activists work in donor agencies. This suggested a broad two-part division, which is of course not ideal because many of the women have such varied interests and concerns, cutting across different areas.

We are especially grateful to all the women featured in this collection. Our thanks also to every one of the contributing authors and photographers. And finally thanks are due to the SaciWATERs network across South Asia, and particularly to Anjal Prakash, who anchored this project at SaciWATERs, and other colleagues in Secunderabad , for their wholehearted support.

Sumi Krishna

Arpita De

Notes

1. The panel chaired by Sumi Krishna (Bangalore) and coordinated by Seema Kulkarni (SOPPECOM, Pune), included Kuzhali Anbuchelvan (South Asian Water Fellow, Anna University, Chennai, India), Shaheen Ashraf Shah (Researcher, Warwick University, UK), Deepa Joshi (Winrock International, USA), Aditi Mukherji (Researcher, International Water Management Institute, Sri Lanka), Lesha Witmer ( Women for Water Partnership, The Netherlands) and Durk Adema (Directorate General for International Cooperation, Government of The Netherlands).

2. Kulkarni, Seema (compiled) 2009. Situational Analysis of Women Water Professionals in South Asia, Secunderabad: SaciWATERs , Secunderabad.

Part I

GRASSROOTS

LOCAL BODIES

COMMUNITIES

NGOs

ACTIVISTS

JOURNALISTS

Saving the Kuda Ganga

JEEVANI FERNANDO

Sri Lanka

Kumudini Hettiarachchi

The stench is unbearable. Even the torrential rains and weeks of heavy flooding have not diffused the odour of rotting fish from Pitipana in Negombo, about 35 km from Colombo and just 6 km from Sri Lanka’s international airport. ‘This is the signature smell of Pitipana’, laughs 39-year-old Annette Marie Jeevani Fernando, who has lived here all her life, like the many generations before her. This is, however, no laughing matter because the river and lagoon, which nurtured her and her family and where her husband now toils every morning to feed their two boys, are under threat.

Kuda Ganga, one of the small rivers that feeds the Negombo lagoon is gradually becoming narrower and choking to death the life-giving fish and crustaceans that thousands of families depend on to earn a meagre living and to keep their cooking pots boiling.

The main polluters are the wadi (centres) that dot the whole area, these are run by businessmen who deal in dried fish who left northern Sri Lanka (due to the conflict) and settled along the river and lagoon banks since 1989, says Jeevani. The waste water from piggeries and household sewage is also channelled into the river. A further threat is posed by those who have cleared the mangroves on the edge of the river for illegal construction.

‘These karawala wadi (dried fish centres) obtain fish from a big company near Colombo or at the Negombo lellama (where the boats come in with their catch) and clean them in Pitipana. They scrape off the flesh and stuff the heads, skin, bones and boku (intestines) into polythene bags or fertiliser sacks and dump them in the river,’ she says in disgust, adding that the river water is kaluma kalu (blackish black). From the late 1980s the problem has grown with many boat engines packing-up after getting entangled in these polythene bags and sacks, compelling fishermen to forego their work and attend to costly repairs.

Those like her husband who use oru (wooden canoes) are also finding it increasingly difficult to feed their families, for the river is turning toxic and no fish are breeding here. This is strange for Jeevani because both she and her husband had learnt to swim in its clear waters and, as young children of seven or eight years, been adept at catching small fish, shrimp and crab as soon as they stepped into the water. ‘Those days we used to catch shrimp with a pol kole (palm frond) and crabs would just climb atop a trap we set in a few minutes,’ she says; adding that even the fishermen who went out to sea would catch their bait of shrimp from the river.

The river and the lagoon are also a source of income for the sea-going fishermen during the monsoon, when gale-like winds and heavy rains prevent them from going out to sea. Jeevani’s eyes light up as she reminisces and the fishermen gathered around her echo the same sentiments. She recalls how the women of the fishing households would cook a pot of rice and prepare another pot with all the spices such as curry powder, saffron powder, cinnamon, suduru, maduru (cumin) and a touch of chilli powder mixed with water and keep it on the hearth ready to cook.

‘They were sure that their men would walk in with a variety of small fish, shrimp and crab, which they would toss into that pot and bring to a boil,’ says Jeevani, going back to her childhood. The moment the aroma filled the house, even children who were sleeping would wake up and be drawn to the kitchen, where the family would sit down to a simple but sumptuous meal of rice, hodi thembum (fish-gravy) and scraped coconut.

But no more – those are just memories of a past long gone. Jeevani had hoped she would do the same for her two sons, having married her childhood sweetheart at the tender age of 16 (she had dropped out of the Pitipana school when she was in Grade 9 as she could not comprehend Mathematics, Science or English). ‘Now there are no shrimps, only visha beeja (germs)’ she says wryly. Though the fishermen have been protesting over the river being polluted, nothing was done and there was no one to whom they could turn.

Being Proactive

Jeevani’s involvement began after the tsunami struck in December 2004. The Coast Conservation Department had come into the area to clear the boat-debris, along with lagoon fishermen among whom her husband was a prominent member. Jeevani and the others sought advice and support from those officials. ‘Mama ethakota thama atha gehewwe,’ says Jeevani, explaining that it was in 2005 that she began to bring to the fore the dangers to the river by contributing strong pieces to the local newspaper. The vernacular eight-page tabloid Meepura was read by those in authority, including the administrators, bankers, educators and also politicians.

Gradually awareness built up and by April 2008 she was able to rally a group of people for a meeting at the church. ‘We pasted posters all over the area calling people to join us for an awareness campaign,’ says Jeevani. Forty people attended the meeting with the two Catholic priests and the area’s officials, such as the village-level Administrative Officer and the Public Health Inspector, pledging their support. It was at this meeting that the ten-member Kuda Ganga Surekum Kamituwa, a community-based organisation to safeguard the river was formed, with Jeevani as its Coordinator. ‘People support you when it hurts or affects them,’ she philosophises.

Two weeks later they decided to carry out a shramadhana (self-help) to clean-up the river themselves, with support from the Red Cross. A week later, on a Saturday, fifty fishermen sacrificed their daily work, their eda wela (food for the day) and joined the effort. ‘They brought their boats, got into the river, waist-deep, or even chest-deep, pulled out the rotting muck, put this into the boats and brought it to the banks,’ says Jeevani. Four tractor-loads of waste were removed that day.

The clean-up helped clear some filth but the culprits did not get the message and continued their errant ways. In July, the Kuda Ganga Surekum Kamituwa protested in writing to the Mayor of the Negombo Muncipal Council, after which a discussion was called to focus on the dangers posed to the river. The Mayor asked whether he should give the polluters notice to shut down, but then Jeevani was concerned about their livelihoods. So she suggested a middle path. The Kuda Ganga Surekum Kamituwa wanted the dried-fish businesses and also the piggeries and even homes to instal proper waste-disposal systems that would not pollute the river. They also wanted the river demarcations made permanent to stop the encroachments. The dried-fish centres had a system of waste disposal (especially for fish blood) but the boatman who was hired to dump it beyond the moya kata (estuary) to be washed out into the open sea, simply dropped it along the way.

A survey was also conducted by the Public Health Inspector to ascertain the number of toilets, dried-fish businesses and piggeries on the river bank. Jeevani clearly remembers the date – September 11, 2008 – it was her aunt’s funeral. But she had given her word that she would help with the survey and that’s just what she did, casting aside personal responsibilities. The survey found that there were 10 dried-fish centres, 10–15 toilets and five piggeries. The number may seem small but the damage is immense, she says.

Although some of those polluting the river have now built tanks and waste-disposal systems to ‘satisfy’ the authorities, these are just to dupe the officials, says Jeevani, pointing out that the pipes are opened to the river well below ground level. Even the municipality trucks dump the garbage along the river bank. The river is full of germs, she feels, citing instances of two fishermen who got into the water with some minor cuts on their legs and subsequently fell ill and died. When we get into the water, the body itches, she says. In November 2008, the second shramadhana was carried out and eight tractor-loads of muck were pulled out. But the battle to save the river has not ended.

Is this mother of two, one a young man of 22, the other a teenager of 15, frustrated that all her efforts of devoting her time and energy at a cost to her family have not borne the desired results? Is she ready to call it a day in stoic resignation? No, is her strident answer. She agrees she has a tough life, sometimes only about three hours of sleep a day. She gets up at 3 am, even before the cockerels in the area greet the morning, to supplement her husband’s hard-earned income by labelling at least 6,000 beedis a day. For this she earns Rs 30 per bundle of 1000 beedis, a paltry Rs 180 a day. Then follows the housework, of course, helped by her husband, who feels it is her duty to fight for the river, though no other woman is involved.

‘He doesn’t ask me what I am doing and where and with whom I am going. When I say I may not go to a meeting, he urges me to go.’ says Jeevani, explaining that when she has to go, he finishes her work of pasting labels, cooking for the children and also collecting water from the public tap. All this in addition to his fishing, (though he may get only about five crabs on some mornings) and work at a butcher’s shop in the afternoons. Even though several men have dropped out of the Kuda Ganga Surekum Kamituwa due to death threats, she is not deterred in her fight as she has always worked for others and not for herself. As the fishermen around her vigorously give voice to the fact that ‘api wenuwen kepa wela weda karanawa’ (she works with dedication for us), Jeevani, who is furious with those who are attempting to destroy God’s biggest gift to their community, the river and its yield, plans the next move in her campaign. They have written ‘to the highest in the land – the President,’ she says, and to other top officials in Colombo and received a positive response. For Jeevani, there is now hope that they will be able to save her beloved Kuda Ganga.

Pioneering Village Development

BELI LAMA

Nepal

Kamal Phuyal and Sarbajit Lama with inputs from Dewan Rai

Beli Lama of Pinthali village in Kavre district, of the Nepal highlands (northeast of the capital, Kathmandu), mobilised the local people to bring drinking water from a distant source to the village. Born in 1926, one of fourteen siblings, in a remote Tamang village of Kavre district, she never went to school but learnt to read and write when her brothers were being tutored. At 22, married against her wishes, she came as a bride to the neighbouring village, Pinthali. The situation in Pinthali was different from her natal village. Water scarcity was one of the major problems. Beli Lama recalls,

‘the villagers had to walk to Nhem Khola (spring) in the mountain for two hours to collect water, or they had to go down to the river. Farming entirely depended on rain water. I even saw cattle dying many times because of lack of water to drink.’ Only one crop was possible in a year. More than half of the families could not survive on their produce. Relatively well-off families used to barter three kilograms (2 mana) of corn for one gagri (pot designed especially for carrying water) of water (about 3.8 litres). Some poor families used to make a living by supplying water. Many women had to spend all their time just carrying water several times in a day. ‘We could hardly take a bath once a week then,’ Chinimaya, 78, recalled. From her first day in Pinthali, Beli Lama resolved to do something for the village.

Why