Jennifer Morris
As I sped past deep green rice paddies and oxen-pulled plows while nestled comfortably in a
mini-van, I looked out into the fields in amazement. Crouched figures draped in brilliant saris of
indigo and fuscia with intricate patterns and elaborate designs dotted the wet green fields,
hunched over their work in the blistering sun.
Underneath these defiant, brilliant colors and bold patterns were the women. Working in the fields, they turned as we passed, just long enough to register our presence.
When the mini-van stopped, I was able to meet the real people under the radical colors and patterns, to learn their stories and to briefly glimpse into their lives. The daring colors they wore took on a deeper meaning.
These Muslim women live in Jiala, a small village in the Satkhira district of southwest Bangladesh, near the Indian border. They are rarely addressed by their given names. They are wives (bou) and mothers (ma), brother's wives (chachee or mamee) or mothers-in-law (shashoree). While they are also farmers, rice sellers, milk venders and sometimes even store owners, they are rarely viewed as individuals outside the world of men, be it brother, son, father or husband.
The position of women in Bangladesh was evident even in the way women were allowed to discuss their husbands.
"What is your husband's name?" I asked a woman, unknowingly.
"Hassan-baba, the father of Hassan," she told the interpreter.
"She wants his real name -- for her records," explained the interpreter.
"Tell them, Hassan," the woman gestured to her son, refusing to answer my question.
"His name is Hamid," the son replied.
I later learned that according to Hindu tradition, that had since been adopted by Muslims, women are forbidden to speak the name of their husbands directly -- it is viewed as immodest and disrespectful. I soon discovered that for women in Bangladesh, modesty is central to their social acceptance.
From the time of birth, a Muslim woman's place in Bangladeshi society is largely pre-determined. While a son is welcomed into the world with the cry of "Allah Abkar" (God is
Great), a female child receives only the whisper of the Qurannic prayer. Soon after the birth of a
girl, her relatives begin the negotiations for her marriage. By the age of 17, approximately 70
percent of females in Bangladesh are married, nearly all of them by an arrangement between the
parents of the bride and the groom -- an arrangement which is purely practical and aimed at
strengthening social ties between families.
A woman's productive value in society is equated primarily with the dowry she will bring to her husband's family. Men are responsible for earning the wages, which have become crucial for a family's survival as more and more families become landless. Even for those families with land, subsistence on the small and often unproductive plots is nearly impossible, thereby diminishing a woman's status as agricultural laborer and thus income provider, and undermining her role in society even further.
The payment of the dowry, which often occurs over the course of several years, is a significant financial burden for most families. An inability to pay severely affects a young bride's treatment in her husband's family home.
In order to reverse the falling status of Bangladeshi women, international and local organizations have instituted micro-lending programs, giving women access to loans, many times as little as $75 to $125, to start their own small businesses. Organizations such as the Grameen Bank and the Bangladesh Rural Advancement Committee (BRAC) feel that by giving poor women the means to start or expand micro-enterprise activities -- buying and selling milk, sewing clothes, husking rice -- a mother, wife or daughter-in-law can bring income into her household. Her productivity will increase her household status, which will likely have a significant impact on her daily life.
Ashtafun Nahar, the head of a locally-based organization devoted to women's economic and
social empowerment said, "Even minimal increases in a woman's ability to generate income has
not only been seen to reduce the mental and physical torture of women, in many cases it has
stopped altogether."
While most economists agree that long-term employment provides more security and higher returns than micro-enterprise activities, traditions in Bangladesh often inhibit a woman's ability to obtain employment outside the home.
Purdah, or female seclusion, is an Islamic tradition routinely practiced in Bangladesh among the Muslim majority. Purdah literally means "curtain" or "veil," but the term is used figuratively to designate the proper mode of behavior for women. Its strictest adherents are confined to their homes. When they leave, they are veiled from head to toe. This "protects" the women's modesty, while also protecting her husband's family's izzat (respectability).
While denounced in the West as oppressive, many women strive to observe purdah because it increases the status of the family. Economic necessity, however, is forcing many families to abandon purdah as more than one wage-earner is often required for household survival.
Occupational purdah or the types of work considered "appropriate" and "respectable" severely restrict women forced to seek wage labor. As a result, micro-enterprise activities carried out from the home are one of the few viable options for women seeking income while also observing purdah.
Most women in the rural areas are forced to sell their goods (often rice or milk) through a male wholesaler or with the help of their husbands or sons. Women are not allowed to buy or sell goods in the haats and bazaars (village markets). Although women are not usually in control of their profits, their contribution to the products sold may serve to increase their household status and earn the respect of their husbands and his family.
As I returned to the air-conditioned comfort of the mini-van, I wondered how much change
micro-enterprise activities could bring to these women. The combination of religion, history and
culture seemed too formidable a barrier.
Jennifer Morris (MIA 2) is concentrating in Economic and Political Development. She traveled
to Bangladesh in March with a group of SIPA students to evaluate the micro-grant program of
Trickle Up, a New York-based NGO.
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