August 21, 2003

Women living in the interior of Sindh have a sad story to tell, writes Imdad Soomro

What does a woman inherit in Sindh? A complete surrender of her soul before a man and a life-time of being a working commodity; not only house-work but hard labour in the fields working with the crops in ketcha areas.

Arbab Khatoon, 47, spends the whole day working with the crops, the constant exertion and exhaustion involved with this strenuous labour has finally caught up with her and her face has aged, making her look much older than her years. “We get married not to a man but to work and labour,” she says when she’s asked how she feels after a long tiring day.

In a detailed conversation, she explains that her day begins very early in the morning and continues from dawn to dusk. She starts by cleaning and sweeping the house and then she prepares neeran (breakfast) for the male members of the family.

With the other female members she feeds buffaloes, cows and goats. After finishing these chores she leaves for the fields with a grandson. From daybreak till the evening — without any break — she finds herself working in the fields. “There is no end to it. I have been working this way all my life since my childhood,” she says with a sad look in her eyes.

Arbab Khatoon got married when she was barely 15. Her husband is an agrarian, so this is her lot in life. While carrying her grandson on her back she is busy cutting the grass. At noon she eats mani (bread) with a desi lassi and also feeds her grandson.

When the sun sets she leaves for home. “After working in the fields I head home for my domestic responsibilities. I’ll have to look after the buffaloes, cows and bulls. After that I prepare raatji mani (dinner),” she says.

Women in upper Sindh particularly, have a life that is unimaginably hard and oppressive. It is unthinkable for men to contribute help to their spouses with the domestic work. Often women have reported being beaten up and in several cases have been killed by their husbands or other male relatives for not carrying out their orders promptly. There are many cases when a wife has been labelled a kari and killed.

Veiling seems expensive and unaffordable for the lower classes living in the katcha area. “Purdah is an outdated custom for the upper class; it is a symbol of sharafat for the middle class; but unnecessary and unaffordable for the lower class,” says Agha Saleem, a novelist and story writer. All the women who spend their day working with the crops in the field while sowing and harvesting are unveiled.

For 20 years there has been a severe water shortage and life in the ketcha areas depends upon the waters of the Indus. The residents of the katcha areas experienced a flood in ‘88. The floods resulted in a lush green landscape and thick forests, turning the barren lands into fertile fields. “Once the floods stopped the ketcha areas turned into a vast desert,” a katcha resident recalls.

Before the dacoit culture began, the farmers and residents of the katcha areas enjoyed a peaceful life. A great wave of disturbance gave a new face to a man who once lived a happy life. Criminal elements, once a rare occurrence, became common in these parts of Sindh.

Due to the water shortage lands became barren so people started to leave the katcha areas and men went in search of work in the cities and small towns. This increased the burden on women as they were left behind all alone in their homes.

Life became harder and more miserable since hard working people became idle and sat around in hotels in nearby towns, listening to Jalal Chandio and Shaman Meerali. In the evenings they went to their homes and harassed their womenfolk. “From working in the field to their domestic chores and obliging their husbands; women are very useful commodities of the men in these parts,” said a journalist and writer Mumtaz Bokhari.

In the lower parts of Sindh women are used like slaves and treated as though they are property. They are mostly engaged in choundo (cotton picking) and are called choundi-waryoon (cotton pickers). During the cotton picking months (from October to December in Upper Sindh and August to November in lower Sindh), families leave their homes and live on the fields temporarily for these three months in makeshift tents.

This season is known as one of longing and these departures from loved ones at home are painful. Cotton picking requires precision and is delicate work, extremely hard on the eyes and hands. With their babies on their backs, they pick cotton despite the fact that their hands bleed, and they sing popular folklores.

Although these women work relentlessly, “they do not get a penny for their hard work, the fruit of their labour goes to their men,” said a resident. These cotton pickers are seen in torn clothes with unkempt hair and a vacant look in their eyes; living like gypsy girls with no home to call their own.

There is a strange practice in upper Sindh which is that men keep more than one wife. They also believe that they should have a younger wife in their old age to look after them properly. Some tribal clans keep wives to face the foes who label their woman a kari.

Along with enduring these injustices, these women face grave hardship throughout their lives. “We are lucky if we manage to get five hours of sleep at night after slaving from sunrise to sunset,” a woman worker tells. Apart from their household chores and working in the fields they also spend a lot of time knitting handicrafts which also brings in some income.

Unfortunately buyers from big cities purchase their products for a few hundred rupees and then sell them for thousands of rupees. For instance, a Thari gaj and shawl is bought for Rs300 to 400 and then sold for Rs2000 to 3000 in Islamabad and Karachi.

Women do different work in different localities, a villager observes, saying, “Thari women are often seen watering the animals as well as fetching water for the family. During drought they have to walk even longer distances in search of water and then carry it back all the way to their homes.

Larkana, Jacobabad, Shikarpur and Dadu districts are hubs of rice growing — some 60 per cent women help during the runbo (sowing) and reaping times. “While we complain that women are not sharing in the economic process (with men), this however, shows another side to the picture and indeed one which ought to be recognized,” retorted Ghulam Abbas Soomro.

According to him, women don’t get what they ought to and they certainly do not get their due share. Perhaps if they are blessed they may get jewellery, but what a price they end up paying for that — makes you wonder if it is worth it — paying the price of something with your life and soul.

During the cotton picking season and the rice sowing and harvesting season pregnant women often end up giving birth in the fields. Last year an entire family nearly drowned in a river near Pano Aqil, Ketcha, when the boat turned over causing eight deaths including those of women and children. They were on their way to cotton fields for choundo (cotton picking).

In the katcha areas (on the banks of the Indus) some 75 per cent of women have been seen working with crops of sugarcane, wheat, vegetables, rice and cotton. “While they are busy farming, their men go to pakas (little towns) to hotels for entertainment and recreation, and return home late at night,” grumbled a teacher of a small village.

Men also indulge in and enjoy cock-fighting and bull-fighting in remote Sindh but a woman after an exhausting day of hard labour has no energy left to partake in fun and games. These women’s labour of love is harsh and extracts their youth, beauty and laughter; all the while giving sustenance to their men’s ways of life.

This article was written before the recent monsoon rains.

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