India: Mizoram's Widows Face Up To The Future

By Linda Chhakchhuak

Hlimpuii, about 50 years, has been doing the round of the courts in Aizawl, the capital of Mizoram, looking for justice since 2004. "My son was a policeman. In 2004, he was murdered in cold blood by his colleagues. Till date, I wait for the law to punish his murderers," says Hlimpuii, in a corridor of the Aizawl District Court, where the alleged killers, out on bail, wait outside the courtroom for the umpteenth time.

During the initial years of the tragedy, Hlimpuii would often curse her fate, wondering how she, as a poor widow, would be able to fight for justice. Fortunately, the grieving mother was guided to the Mizoram Hmeithai Association (MHA), or the Mizoram Widow's Association, which offered to support her cause. "I'm sure that with the MHA on my side the authorities will realise that I'm no longer a lone, powerless widow," she says.

The Mizoram Widow's Association was established the late 1980s, but could take some concrete steps only in 1997, with the launch of small projects to help widows earn a living, safeguard themselves from doing businesses such as brewing and selling illicit liquor and drugs, and work towards a better life. As elsewhere, widows in Mizoram bear the double stigma of being women and of being 'women without men'. Taken advantage of by property sharks within their own families or drawn to trafficking or the illicit sale of liquor by pressing economic needs, these women can only foresee a life of constant struggle ahead of them.

"In our society, a widowed woman, whether it is because the husband died or just abandoned her, faces a lot of discrimination. People take advantage of widows. As they have no one to defend their rights, they have less confidence than others do. Generally, we look down on a woman without a husband and do not treat a widowed woman or her children with equality and respect. We call them 'hmeithai' (widow) and 'hmeithai fa' (widow's child), quite disparagingly," says Veronica Zatluangi, 56, president of the MHA since 1998.

The MHA - run from Zatluangi's residence at Upper Republic locality in Aizwal - is perhaps one of its kind. It not only takes up cudgels on behalf of widows, but also on behalf of divorcees, single mothers and unmarried women over 40 years of age.

Zatluangi understands the agony of being a widow. Within a year of her marriage, her husband passed away. At 19, she found herself both a widow and an expectant mother. She admits that the thought of taking her own life crossed her mind several times. "I was too stunned to do anything. But then I had this child to think of," she says. Zatluangi secured employment as a lower division clerk, graduated on the job in addition to working as a typist, and eventually worked her way up before she took voluntary retirement as deputy director in the Health
Services department of the Government of Mizoram.

The bitterness of life has been softened with by a sense of achievement. Her only child is now a doctor in a famous London hospital. This is probably why Zatluangi cannot reiterate enough the importance of education. She knows that for widows and their dependants the solution to a better tomorrow lies in education. Thus, amongst its many successful projects run in Mizoram is the MHA Residential School for (Under) Privileged Children at Luangmual, on the outskirts of Aizawl. Set up under a central government scheme of the Union Ministry of Tribal Affairs, the school offers free education and hostel facilities to the girl children of widows. Zatluangi says that she contributed part of her personally owned land for the cause. The results have been encouraging for both the MHA and its marginalised and impoverished beneficiaries. With its facilities the school can currently provide for only 118 students, but more wings are being added.

Lalngurzami, 16, who joined the school in class V, has cleared her matriculation exams with flying colours this year. Her performance has not gone unnoticed and the MHA has decided to support her ambition to become a doctor. "We will collect money and support her college education. She will do well and be an example for others," states Zatluangi, with pride.

Zatluangi emphasises the need to provide educational facilities for poor single-parent (mother) families, explaining that for a poor family, education gets the least priority - "It's the first to be struck off the meagre family budget, in favour of food and shelter".

"There's no point in contributing money for education. Because of the poverty, the money is often used up to buy essentials. That's why the MHA school was set up: to provide free accommodation and education and to liberate children from the tensions of poverty.

In terms of livelihood, the 253 MHA branches encourage single women to earn a living through cottage industries and Self Help Groups (SHGs), making pickles, fruit juices and incense sticks. They run handloom and weaving units, vend vegetables, rear poultry and pigs. The start-up capital is raised through SHG loans or even bank loans in the case of more ambitious ventures.

Not losing sight of the health needs of marginalised women, the organisation has also been running a mobile clinic, provided for under a central government scheme of the Union Ministry of Tribal Affairs since 1999. According to the MHA authorities, the mobile clinic - which has a full-time doctor - caters to rural areas and has serviced 10,000 patients since it first began.

Next on the MHA to-do-list is the setting up of a super-specialty hospital for the disadvantaged. "We have seen that the rich or those with salaried jobs can afford to go outside the state for medical care in the event of serious illnesses, like cancer. The poor simply remain at home and wait for death."

The hospital Zatluangi is now working towards will become fully functional in a few years. It will be one more step towards making the poor more equal.

(Courtesy: Women's Feature Service)

judythpiazza@newsblaze.com

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