THE LAND IS OURS
Keya Acharya* reports on how India's women farmers are
becoming a force for change.
Women farmers have become a dominant force throughout India, as
more and more men migrate to earn money. Yet the slow pace of land
and property rights reform has failed to keep up. Although women
may have more rights on paper than they did 20 years ago, there has
been little progress on the ground.
It is 7.30am in the village of Narsenahalli, near
Doddballapur, about 45 kilometres outside the city of Bangalore. A
group of around 30 women, aged between 25 and 80, have assembled on
the front verandah of the brightly-coloured school that doubles up
as a community meeting point.
Someone has placed a red and blue striped mat on the floor and some
of the village men are perched on the fence of the school
courtyard, curious to know what the women are going to discuss. The
women of Narsenahalli are here to talk about land. They have been
working on the land for the last 30 years, and admit readily that
they have been farming on gomal land, low quality land set aside by
the Government as wasteland.
The women grow dryland crops such as groundnut, red gram and the
local cereal, ragi, most of it for home consumption. But they also
earn a small amount by making plates from sal leaves collected from
the nearby forests and selling them at the local market. While the
women work, the men travel to look for work.
The village is part of a nationwide trend in agriculture, which
over the last few years has seen huge changes. While more and more
men are migrating to urban areas and large farms looking for paid
work, women stay in the village and are increasingly taking over
the cultivation of land.
According to estimates by Bina Agarwal, an academic researching
and writing about women and land rights, almost half of the land in
India is now farmed by women. The changes mean that in the rural
areas the vast majority of women - around 85 percent - are now
farmers. Agarwal points out that although what she calls the
'feminisation of agriculture' is taking place at a rapid pace,
there has been less of a shift in cultural attitudes towards women.
According to her research, India's inherently patriarchal mindset
has not adjusted rapidly enough or questioned whether the women
have rights to own the title deeds to the lands they farm.
Although the women of Narsenahalli may be typical of this
pattern, what is extraordinary is that they are also one of the
first groups of women to challenge the status quo and demand the
right to own the title deeds to the land they cultivate.
Today the women are organized and form an all-women village unit
to deal with land issues as part of a larger organisation, the
Karnataka People's Forum for Land Rights (KPFLR), which was formed
in 2001 to campaign for land reform.
'We want our pattas. It is our right,' say the majority of women
on the school veranda, as though rehearsed, referring to the title
deeds to their plots of land. 'We need our land,' says 40-year-old
Chondamma. 'Tell her about our struggle', she asks Chitravathy, a
convenor working with KPFLR who explains that it has been working
with the women to raise awareness about land rights and to push
Karnataka to speed up the process of reform.
Karnataka, along with West Bengal, has been at the forefront of
land reform in India. In the 1970s, the Indian Government initiated
a progressive land reform process, known as regularisation, which
aimed to allocate gomal lands to socio-economically weaker,
landless communities.
Progress over 30 years has been extremely slow, but recently the
Government has established Land Grant Committees to reinvigorate
the reform process. Although the committees have been criticised
for failing to consult with local communities, Chitravarthy feels
that they still offer the best chance of change. 'NGO or donors
cannot make a big impact on obtaining land for the landless. This
is a very political issue and working through the Government is the
only way out,' he says.
So far, land for the landless, regardless of gender, has been a
greater priority than land rights for women. However, given that
the majority of KPFLR's members are now women, the gender dimension
to land rights is becoming a higher priority.
In the village of Narsenahalli, women's attitudes to their land
rights are changing slowly. Eighty-year-old Thangamma is the oldest
member in the schoolyard. Though fragile and stooped, she wants to
have the title deeds to the gomal lands that she has helped
cultivate ever since she married her husband over 50 years ago.
Apart from the gomal lands, two other acres continue to be
registered in her dead father-in-law's name. 'I want joint
ownership of these lands now,' she says, 'because my son may pawn
the land. I want security.'
Thangamma is worried that her son will use the land as security
to access credit, and that because the family will never be able to
pay back the debt, they will lose the land altogether. Almost all
of Narsenahalli's women cited security as the main reason for
wanting the land to be registered in their name, or at least
jointly with their husband.
If they have access to land they can provide food for the family
instead of needing money to buy it. With enough food coming in,
they have time to look for other ways of earning money, by making
and selling leaf plates, for example. This means they are able to
buy clothes, school books or medicine.
A few yards from the school stands 40-year-old Kadramma's house.
Outside, on a mud-built patio, two cows and a goat are tethered to
wooden posts. The cool, dark interior is divided into a kitchen and
two rooms, all without doors. A black-and-white, second-hand TV
sits connected to an electric socket at one end. Kadramma's
husband, 48-year-old Muniyappa, built the house with money from a
Government grant and family savings.
The couple have four children. The eldest two have not completed
school but are helping to support the family. 'I need my daughter
to help with household work and my son works in a hotel in
Bangalore,' explains Kadramma.
The family's income pays for the two younger children's
education. Kadramma and Muniyappa's 18-year-old son is in his first
year of pre-university and their youngest daughter is at secondary
school.
The family also supports itself by cultivating organically
three, rain-dependent acres - one of which was handed down to
Muniyappa by his father, and the other two are gomal lands that the
family encroached on, about three kilometres away.
From these fields, each year the family harvests around 2,000
kilogrammes of ragi, 1,500 kilogrammes of red gram and 336
kilogrammes of groundnuts, half of which is used at home and half
is sold for cash. But in rainless years, the harvest halves,
sending Muniyappa to the village moneylender for loans which must
be repaid at an exorbitant 60 percent rate of interest.
In 1991, Munniyappa applied, under the land regularisation
scheme, for a patta or right to the gomal lands the family was
farming. But over a decade later, nothing has materialised. Now he
and Kadramma hope that with KPFLR's support, he will at last get
the title deed he wants. The question of whose names the land
should be registered under draws an embarrassed response from him.
His wife stands beside him, equally embarrassed.
'It doesn't matter who owns the land. It is not a big issue,'
says Muniyappa. Kadramma concludes 'We all work very hard.'
The priority for the rural poor may still be land rights for the
family as a whole - whoever owns the title deeds. Single ownership
in the woman's name or joint ownership in both names, this is still
a sensitive topic, despite central and state Government laws which
allow equality of ownership. Women themselves, in spite of a
collective feeling of unity at the meetings in the school hall, are
hesitant when asked in their homes and in the presence of their
families what they feel about owning their lands.
But as more men move away land insecurity for women is growing,
not diminishing. This pushes the need for an urgent focus on their
rights - and a clearer understanding of the benefits equal rights
will bring - further up the agenda.
Bina Agarwal's research demonstrates the link between women's
ownership of land and wealth creation, partly because they can
manage the crops, fodder and trees themselves, and partly because
they can also access credit and mortgages. Where land is owned and
managed by women, there are signs that they use it as collateral to
borrow money to start up micro-businesses which generate a steady
income. The women also grow in confidence and demand services from
the Government for themselves and their children.
These research findings come mostly from other countries and
evidence of the link between women's land rights and wealth
creation in India is rare. The lack of evidence may be one reason
why the Government has given the issue so little attention.
Progress on land rights for women has also slipped down the
agenda of development organisations working with women. A 2002
survey of women and land issues in Karnataka, conducted by the
US-based Rural Development Institute, says interventions by
non-governmental organisations have succeeded in empowering women
in areas such as literacy, access to credit, job skills and health,
but have not increased significantly claims for land ownership
rights. But the survey also showed that 64 percent of women polled
thought Government lands should be granted jointly to them and
their husbands, indicating a growing awareness.
In India, the debate about women's land rights and the impact
they can have on rural wealth creation and security is minimal.
Even in places where policy has been changing, such as in Karnataka
and West Bengal, implementation is slow, and patriarchal attitudes
are proving more powerful than the law.
A few radical women's collectives have obtained land, such as in
northern Karnataka where tribal women are working collectively. But
these cases are few and far between and are mostly isolated
projects supported by aid organisations.
Back in the small village of Narsenahalli, there is a growing
sense amongst the women about the benefits of owning the title
deeds to the land they cultivate. There may be a long way to go
until equal rights to own land becomes a reality throughout India,
but what is happening in Karnataka may be the start of something
big.
*Keya Acharya is an international journalist.
This feature is published courtesy of Panos Features.
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