RANI (not her real name) had not even reached puberty when she was married off to a man in his 30s. “I wanted to play with dolls, but the poor have no childhood. I had to fetch water from the nearby well instead. I had unlimited chores, and there was never time to be a child.”
Rani’s misfortune was that she was born in one of the poorest states of India, Bihar, and to an extremely poor family. Within 10 years of marriage, she became a mother of five and a widow.
“I didn’t even have time to mourn my husband’s death. I was more concerned of how I would support my five children without the meagre salary that my husband used to bring as a bidi-leaf roller.”
An ‘agent’ came to Darbhanga, Rani’s village-like town. He convinced her to go with him to Saudi Arabia where she could work as a housemaid and make so much money that her children would have a great life.
Rani came to Saudi Arabia on an Umrah visa, clad in an Ihram, not knowing even the full rituals of Umrah. The agent had loaned her the money for the plane ticket. Her greatest sorrow was parting with her children, specially the youngest, who was only a year old. Her in-laws had agreed to look after them, provided she sent money regularly.
Rani stayed in Makkah illegally after her Umrah visa expired. She was not fearful because her employer was a high-ranking Saudi official, an Umdah. “They were very good people, though they only paid me SR500. But I felt safe and secure in their household. They also made me pray and taught me religion, which I had not much knowledge of even though I am a born Muslim.”
Rani paid off her agent in a year’s time. She was also supposed to pay him SR1,000 per year for the time she remained in Saudi Arabia. But the agent disappeared when he found out she was working for the Umdah. Rani stayed with her employer for 15 years, crying at night and missing her children. “I really wanted to see them, talk to them. But the poor have no choice. If I went home, I could not support them. A mother must sacrifice, I told myself and stayed on.”
In 1995-1996, the Saudi government announced strict measures for overstayers. The Umdah asked Rani to return to India. She did and was happy at the thought of seeing her children again.
Rani returned home, but soon discovered the shocking truth. She had become too ‘Saudized’, an alien in her own homeland. “I found Darbhanga too dirty, too uncomfortable. I did not even like the food. My body, too, had gotten used to Saudi Arabia. I got sick and lost weight. I loved my children, but now they were grown ups and almost like strangers.
“The biggest joy was getting my daughter married. I found a decent boy who lived in Delhi. I spent almost SR6,000 on the wedding. I gave my daughter a decent dowry, a gold chain, earrings, four gold bangles, clothes and a sewing machine. I also gave my son-in-law a watch, gold ring and Rs10,000.”
Within a year, Rani decided to return to Saudi Arabia so that she could support her family and also because she missed it. She bribed Indian officials to get a new passport. Then she found an agent who would loan her the plane ticket money and would also charge a one-time fee of SR2,500.
This time Rani landed in Jeddah. The agent put her in touch with a Pakistani woman whom everyone called “Apa” (big sister). She charged maids SR50 per month. In exchange, Apa let them stay in her house and search for work. She also let them give out her phone number for contact. She also put the maids in touch with a man who sent money to their village within 24 hours, giving them a constant exchange rate of Rs10 for one Saudi Riyal, even though the official exchange rate is higher.
Rani charges SR700 per month, and is very popular with Indo-Pakistani families, specially expectant mothers who keep maids for a short span of time. Rani’s fame has spread through word-of-mouth. She is sought for her hard work, devotion and tidiness. She usually stays four to six months in a place, then comes back to her one-room dwelling at Apa’s, hoping that the other 10 maids who share the same room are away on assignments. Here she stays till the phone rings for her and she finds another assignment.
“I have no fear of the authorities because I know God is keeping me here. I worked for my children’s sake. Now, my oldest son has tuberculosis. He is very sick and cannot work. He has six children. I am sending money for all of them. When I see a policeman, I walk straight, without fear. After all, my conscience is clear, even though I am illegal. I am a mother and a grandmother, I have sacrificed so much, you cannot imagine what it is to live without seeing one’s children. Why should I give it up now? What choice do the poor have?”
Rani and thousands like her continue to live in Saudi Arabia illegally, sometimes under duress. Some stay away so long that they become a memory or only a name on a remittance form...but they bear hardships in a foreign land in the hope that their loved ones back home will have a better future.
RANI (not her real name) had not even reached puberty when she was married off to a man in his 30s. “I wanted to play with dolls, but the poor have no childhood. I had to fetch water from the nearby well instead. I had unlimited chores, and there was never time to be a child.”
