MGNREGA Change: When Certainty Disappears, Do Women Lose First?

Sushila Devi, 62, speaks with a quiet confidence that doesn’t match her lack of formal education. Even though she never went to school, her words are sharp. She has the clarity that comes from years of survival and struggle. She speaks like someone who has lived through hardship, and knows exactly what a promise means.

When Sushila’s husband died in a road accident, she was left alone to raise her three children in rural Rajasthan. With no land or steady income, survival became a daily struggle. What helped her through those years, she says, was the assurance that work would be available close to home, and  that she could demand it as a right.

“I was able to feed my children and put a roof over their heads,” she says. “The work helped me through the most difficult time of my life. It was not just a job. It gave women dignity.”

Women form the backbone of rural public employment Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (MGNREGA) that experts argue, acknowledges women both as workers and caregivers whose labour, paid and unpaid, sustains rural households. 

It’s also one of the few social protection programmes in India designed around women’s realities like equal wages, work close to home, and support during pregnancy and childcare.

In 2023–24, they accounted for over 56 per cent of total person-days worked, and by 2024–25 this rose to around 58 per cent, nationally. In states like Tamil Nadu, women participation reached nearly 86 per cent.

But now, women like Sushila fear that this guarantee, the promise of work as a right, is being weakened as the proposed new law, Viksit Bharat Guarantee for Rozgar and Ajeevika Mission Gramin Act (VBG RAM G), changes the way work is provided, raising questions about whether women will still be able to claim work as an entitlement.

Work across seasons

Dali Devi, 52, from Rajasthan looks frail. Her body thin from years of hard labour and long days under the sun. But when she speaks, there is no weakness, only conviction, in her voice. Having worked under the scheme since its inception, her fear is simple and direct. When a family has to eat roti every day, why should work ever be uncertain? “Women are usually the first to lose out when jobs shrink. Earlier, we demanded work and the government had to give it,” she says. “Now we fear we will only get work if the government decides it has jobs.”

For women like Dali Devi, the guarantee was more than a promise as it meant stability across seasons, especially during the peak agricultural months when families needed money the most. With guaranteed work, women could manage household expenses, and avoid migrating far from home.

Realities of women

The scheme’s design reflected the reality of women’s lives and it reserved one-third of jobs for women. It ensured equal wages and offered work sites closer to villages so women could manage their domestic responsibilities.

It included support for pregnant and lactating women, offering lighter work and rest periods, and made provisions for crèches and child-care facilities at worksites.

Rekha Devi, 42, is a diminutive woman with tired eyes that still carry a quiet strength. She is a mother of two from Samastipur, Bihar, and has worked under the programme even through her second pregnancy. “I could not migrate for work like men do,” she says. “Here, the work was close. I could rest when needed and still earn.” She remembers days when her older child would sit under the shade of the worksite, playing with other children while she laboured. “There were other women like me,” she says. “We looked after each other’s children.”

For Rekha, the scheme was not just about wages. It was about survival without leaving her home. She could not travel far because her family depended on her presence. The work being near her village meant she could manage her household, look after her children, and still earn. When she speaks of the changes the new law may bring, her worry is not about policy language, it is about what happens to women who cannot leave their homes but still have to feed their children.

Dignity and confidence

Women’s work cannot be separated from their roles as mothers and caregivers, but they are often dependent on male family members for income with little bargaining power in the household. When wages began to come into their own bank accounts, women began to feel a sense of independence, says Chandra Kando, activist from Himachal Pradesh. 

Sharing the transformation she witnessed in her region, she says women prefer employment close to home because it allows them to manage domestic responsibilities. For many, opening a bank account through this work was their first interaction with the formal financial system.

Another social aspect was that the scheme also gave women a chance to be visible in public spaces. Women worked side by side with men, earned equal wages, and learned to claim their rights. It gave them confidence to negotiate, to speak up, and to participate in community decisions.

What changes and why it matters

The proposed VBG RAM G scheme introduces a significant shift in how rural employment is conceived and delivered. While it promises an increase in the number of workdays from 100 to 125, critics argue that the redesign weakens the legal and institutional safeguards that enabled women’s participation.

Economist, Professsor Praveen Jha says, “MGNREGA is an economic revolution. Changing it will hurt women’s employment, reduce wage security and reverse gains in financial inclusion, among other things.” Under the earlier framework, employment was demand-driven and workers could apply for work, and the state was legally obligated to provide it within a stipulated time or pay an unemployment allowance. The guarantee gave women the power to demand work rather than begging for it.

In the new law, the emphasis shifts toward government-identified projects and availability of funds. This has raised concerns that work may become supply-based rather than a right that women can demand. The redesign also raises questions about reservations and accountability as under the original law, one-third of work opportunities were reserved for women, and workers could seek compensation for delayed wages or denial of work. 

“This change may appear technical, but it has real consequences. When work is no longer guaranteed on demand, women are the first to be excluded, especially in areas where there are more workers than available jobs,” says James Herenj, tribal rights activist and convenor of NREGA Watch Jharkhand.  

Women fear that if work becomes supply-based, they will lose their fallback option. They may be forced to accept informal employment during peak agricultural seasons, increasing dependence on landowning caste-class groups where wages are often lower and conditions exploitative.

“Reduced availability of guaranteed work increases women’s dependence on informal employers,” said Kando. “That has implications not just for income, but for safety, mobility and dignity.”

For women like Sushila Devi, the debate is not about policy language or promises on paper. It is about the loss of certainty that once allowed them to survive with dignity. “The guarantee is what saved us,” she said. “Without it, we will again have nothing to fall back on.”