An eight-month course has given the women of rural Sindh the confidence to not only read and write, but also be able to manage the accounts of their husbands’ hardwork
To the dismay of her male colleagues, one fine day Ayesha Solangi, a local female counsellor decided she wanted to read and write and enrolled in an adult literacy programme being offered by an NGO in her town in Sanghar, a district, some 250 kilometres from Karachi.
“The day I learnt to write my name, I began to sign all official documents instead of marking them with the thumbprint. Why should I when I can write?” she beams. She’s also proving to be quite a handful with her active participation. “Literacy has given me a new found confidence that I lacked earlier,” she adds and her male colleagues are not too happy about it.
Ummat, 30, in the far flung Aachro Thar, a white desert, in Sindh, 334 kilometres from Karachi but only 50 kilometres from the nearest border town in India, where her relatives reside, is waiting for the day when she will be able to communicate with them. “The first thing I want to do is write a letter to my blood relatives living in India,” she says passionately emphasizing on the closeness she feels for people whom she’s never met.
Ummat, 30, with four children, is among the 125 women to have joined the five adult literacy centres that have recently opened in her area. She calls her centre a blessing and a godsend.
Like Ummat, whose husband gave her permission to join the female adult literacy centre only on the condition that she would not neglect her household chores, the children or the livestock, Sughra Khatoon, remains indebted to her husband forever for allowing her to pursue her dream.
“You should have seen her on the first day,” says Ummat’s husband, himself illiterate and having no motivation to learn now. “She was trembling with excitement and refused to carry her books for fear that her relatives may see her and make fun of her. Our son accompanied her. And now, not only can she write her name but she helps our son with his schoolwork. I’m really very proud of her,” he looks at her fondly, taking credit for her toil.
Ummat has even noticed a difference in herself. “I was extremely shy,” she concedes. “In fact, the confidence I’ve gained in these few months is immense,” she adds beaming happily. “It would’ve been difficult talking to you even.”
But that is not all. Ummat has learnt other things too, matters relating to personal hygiene. “I bathe my kids every day, remember to clip their nails, wash my hands as well as theirs before eating.” The latest on her mind is to persuade her husband to build a latrine for the family in their home.
However, Sughra’s husband’s attitude was clear the day she came home breathless, to show him that she was now able to write her name. Having been woken from his slumber, he just shrugged and turned his back. Undaunted, she carries on with her nightly excursions over to Sanhul’s home, the village teacher. “My aim is to be able to understand what is written in the Holy Quran. I can read Arabic but have no clue what it means.”
Apart from the fact that Sughra has just begun to read and write, Sanhul, has also noticed a change in her. “She now comes with her hair combed neatly and in clean clothes, and is very attentive,” she says approvingly as Sughra listens on.
As we sit inside, Sanhul’s one-room school is sparsely furnished with a blackboard in the centre and charpoys (reed beds) all around it, the women begin to saunter in, several with infants straddling their hips. Eight-month-old dimpled cheek Nasima, whose husband is away on military service, confides shyly: “Waiting has become so much easier now that I can write and read his letters.” For Salma Bibi the world is just a newspaper away. She loves to read out newspaper headlines to her husband, her favourite being those on politics and local administration.
This eight-month adult literacy programme of the Sindh Agricultural & Forestry Workers Coordinating Organization (Safwco), an NGO, and Catholic Relief Service was initiated to “provide women with the opportunity they never had and equip them with functional writing, reading and arithmetical skills”. So far they have been able to establish ten literacy centres facilitating 400 women.
“Initial resistance to the idea was there but it was quelled by explaining to the men and the village elders that this would furnish the women with functional learning. The men realized it would facilitate in running the household and women would be able to do their accounts rather than bringing about radical changes and not make much of a dent on their male ego,” explains Suresh Kumar, manager, Education Development Programme at Safwco.
“An important consideration, as well as a major hurdle in replicating this programme all over the district, has been that the teachers have to be females and belong to their own villages for men to accept this. Getting educated local women is very difficult like it was in Aachro Thar, where we had to revise our policy of hiring women only as there were no literate women in these villages,” he adds
“I’m quite surprised at the speed with which these women have learnt their lessons,” says one teacher. “They come with their children in toe, sometimes all five of them. I admire their resilience. They do all the housework, look after their children, tend to the livestock and yet come on time to attend their class,” says another. The teachers also observed that to their surprise after initial hesitation, most husbands appreciated the positive change that had come about in their spouses. Another positive change has been among the upper caste Hindus who looked down upon the lower caste have slowly begun to shrug off their holier than thou attitude.
Sanhul takes a three-hour afternoon class but “for those who cannot attend the afternoon session, I take them separately, like Sughra Khatoon.” The timings are flexible and are kept in accordance with the convenience of the women. The programme started February last year and the first batch has already passed out, and Sanhul is on to teaching the second one.
In another village where the cotton-picking season is in full swing, the women at the centre say: “We keep our books and write down how much cotton we’ve picked against the amount due to us. There is less bickering and we know we cannot be cheated anymore by the by the literate,” says one of them who acts as their spokesperson. “This year the cotton-picking women have become bolder and have negotiated their payments. That’s the power of literacy,” says Hanifan Munawwar, their teacher. — Courtesy: IPS/Dawn
An eight-month course has given the women of rural Sindh the confidence to not only read and write, but also be able to manage the accounts of their husbands’ hardwork
Apart from the fact that Sughra has just begun to read and write, Sanhul, has also noticed a change in her. “She now comes with her hair combed neatly and in clean clothes, and is very attentive,” she says approvingly as Sughra listens on.
