Society

Battle Of The Atoms

Their gritty stories repose some faith in this unjust world. Here, we salute six women who fought against the system, and won.

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Battle Of The Atoms
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PremalataDas 
Headmistress, Nalini Vidyamandir Rayagada, Orissa
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When 36-year-old law graduate Premalata Das decided to join Nalini Vidyamandir, a residential school for tribal girls run by an ngo in Orissa's backward Rayagada district, her family was naturally up in arms. She'd have to contend with the poverty, unemployment and alcoholism-ridden, near-primitive lifestyle of the Dongria Kondh tribe. Premalata defied her family. Now she not only heads the school but has also turned it into an amazingly successful, full-scale educational institute up to the ninth standard.

The state government did want a school in the area, but as a matter of policy, they'd fund a primary one (up to Class V). So it was not only a question of guts but also money. Officially, Rayagada district is only 35 per cent literate, with four per cent tribal female literacy. In the Dongria Kondh tribe, girls are much sought after but—unfortunately—it's because they look after home, hearth and siblings while parents spend the day at work, and also because of a reverse dowry system. Premalata actually had to bribe people to send their girls to school. Still, they often gheraoed the school demanding jobs, tried to attack Premalata and her teachers, or take the girls forcibly back. They even threatened to kill Premalata. "But every time I was abused, I became more adamant," says Premalata.

Last year, 15 girls from Nalini Vidyamandir wrote the boards and 13 got a first division. This year, all 18 passed in first. It's an achievement alright, acknowledges additional DM L.C. Patra, admitting that of the 20-odd government-run schools in Rayagada, nine have never had a student clear the board exams. And the much-fought-for upgradation to secondary level may be finally coming through.

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SconiD'Souza
Utan, near Mumbai
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VeenaDevi
Mukhiya, Loharpura panchayat, Nawada, Bihar
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PrakritiSrivastava
Indian Forest Service officer, Kozhikode
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K.K.Rema 
Advocate's clerk, Kochi High Court
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It was a decade of suffering for her and two daughters. Till one day in 1995, things went too far. Her husband, a transport employee, slashed her face with a pen-knife and pointed it at her stomach. A traumatised Rema went back to her parents. Not even a graduate, she took up temporary jobs to support her children. But her husband repeatedly created trouble at her workplaces and the employers sided with him. "My husband believes that woman's place is in the kitchen even if she has to starve," grimaces Rema. When she finally found a job as a door-to-door salesperson for readymade garments, her husband took her eldest daughter away. Rema managed to secure a loan and set up a garment business. Fine Look Garments prospered, but her husband often waylaid her, threatened to kill her, and spread vicious rumours. Soon, she was left with a closed shop, a debt of Rs 40,000 and mounting interest.

The filial home was no more welcoming than the marital one. Worried that Rema would get a share in the family property, her brother took recourse to mental and physical torture. So far, she has refused to budge. In 2000, she took a judicial separation from her husband and filed for maintenance. Her divorce came through a week ago. "Even four years later, I'm struggling to pay my debts. My husband is now trying to establish that I have a job so he does not have to pay maintenance. He knows I still have a child to support. But my hard work will see me through all this, I know," says Rema with a smile. You want to silently send up a prayer for her.

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RashedaKausar
Businesswoman, Bhagalpur, Bihar
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Either way, the machine allowed her to stitch her life back together. Out came garments on order that put food into six hungry mouths. The compensation money of Rs 1.1 lakh arrived but almost all of it went in to educate her children—four daughters and a son. "I decided not to spend life crying and begging," she says. She spent a few days in the house of a Hindu neighbour and then a few months in relief camps and then returned to get back on her feet."There was not a single word of encouragement. I got only insults when I was struggling," she says."I faced all kinds of harassment from society.The more they discouraged me, the more determined I became."

Against everybody's advice, she went ahead with her daughters' education.And her own, finishing her matriculation with her two elder daughters. Tahseen and Tasneem have now graduated with honours and are preparing for the state public service exams. The rest are in college. Busra and Zeba want to become engineer and doctor. Son Masoom nurses ambitions of joining the IPS. Cliche? No, just a hard-fought victory.

Rasheda today presides over a coaching institute, a computer training centre and a hostel, all in her home. But her journey isn't yet over. A gentle dream that she cherishes now is to set up an old-age home.

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