I leave the lush hills on which my campus resides and step down to the valleys of Kolvan and Mulshi. Living in rural Maharashtra, I see the sugarcane crop held in high regard. From the little-too-sweet teas, and the men and women lining the fields, with perpetually bent backs, it was clear that the real backbone of the industry were these people. Who could have known that the price to be paid for their labour were their rights?
The state of Maharashtra boasts the second position for its contribution to sugar production mainly due to the presence of the sugarcane belt in the state. Despite having drought-stricken land, the water-consuming crop has often flourished in the region.
Such a drought-prone region is Beed, a village that has often been termed as “womb-less”. It boasts of unusually high rates of hysterectomies performed on the women in the region, particularly of those who migrate the neighbouring districts for the harvest of the crop.
For them to work effectively, several female labourers in their 20s undergo this life-altering procedure of removing their uterus. Medically, hysterectomy is seen as the last straw to any such prevailing condition. But in the Marathwada region, the rising number of hysterectomies are clearly a cause for concern. Why do these women choose to go through such a harsh and expensive procedure?
Drought-stricken land of the Beed district makes their lives harder as they have to work under harsh conditions for a meagre harvest. A family who cannot earn—if they cannot use their labour— has to pay to never go through labour. They go through the expensive procedure of removing all or parts of their uterus, as unnecessary as the removal may be.
The side effects of the procedure are high, with joint pain to low calcium. The lack of a nutritious diet paired with such an incredibly invasive procedure being performed results in them having lost their ability to menstruate and to give birth, ridding them of their choice. They were often not informed about the details of the side effects of the procedure nor of its lack of necessity.
Are We Losing Labour Rights?
The issue has brought out a narrative that has often been left out of the question of labour rights. There are suspicions surrounding that the women have been pushed into the procedure due to their employers, to maximise the productivity of their labourers. This is one narrative that the Maharashtrian administration considered for their investigation of the issue in June 2019.
The couples from Beed who migrate in search of sugarcane cutting are often employed by a contractor who pays them an amount in advance for a particular period. If they fail to meet the harvest set, the remaining of the amount is demanded back.
There are financial struggles on both sides, as the labourers from Beed come from poor backgrounds and exhaust the advance very quickly. The contractors also suffer from the act of cultivating a water-hungry crop in drought-stricken regions, in the name of commercial profit. Though their struggles are in no way comparable, this begs the question of nature of migratory work in a country like India.
The lack of concern for the health as well as the human rights of these workers is dehumanising. In light of the current pandemic, the migrant workers face a similar issue, again: a lack of healthcare concern from the authorities and their dehumanisation due to the nature of work. Labourers are sprayed, cursed and shouted at for their genuine concerns and need to work.
They die on the streets, on their way home and starve. Here, the women lie on surgery tables, having to part prematurely from their menstrual journey to work.
If this is the way their health has been disregarded in issues that can be treated with medicine, this begs the question of how are they treated against the backdrop of a pandemic?
The nature of labour in a “socialist“-turned-capitalist country has seen its fair share of exploitation, especially at the grassroots level. There is a countrywide epidemic of the gross exploitation of labour and the compromising of labourer health in favour of the state economy.
Debt And Dialogue
Due to the nature of their work, women often go through with the usually unnecessary procedure after placing complete trust in their health professionals to think in their best interests. The debt they incur from these procedures adds to the financial burden the family bears.
The exploitation of the often uneducated women by profit-driven doctors cannot be ignored either. In a country where is there is little dialogue over menstruation and reproductive health, how can these women make an “educated” decision?
Policies, Not Profit
What this challenge requires are menstrual awareness campaigns in rural areas, with more female doctors so that rural women feel comfortable talking about their intimate health with them. Awareness is critical as women often tend to rely on doctors due to lack of information about their bodies.
Normalising conversations around menstrual health is not easy, but gradual introduction of such topics in rural areas is essential. Campaigns can engage local women leaders so that such information is presented knowing the cultural-linguistic landscape of the community. Involving the men of such areas in the conversation helps as they can empathise with their wives or family members.
Moreover, the reasons behind performing such a procedure must be adequate, and such a protocol must be implemented within public and private hospitals. If necessary, a public health notice must be communicated for women to refer to reliable sources to make a choice. The side effects of the procedure must also be compulsorily described to the women.
Regular contact must be maintained with the women to make sure that their contractors do not exploit them. However, this may be extremely challenging due to the migratory nature of the community. Another way is to put more policies in place protecting vulnerable parts of the population, such as migrant workers, which not only will boost their economic safety but also protect their well-being.
This issue is another reason to further push for sexual education in schools. Sexual education includes not only the practice of safe intercourse but also a detailed inquiry into sexual and reproductive health and rights. Not only will it help to take away the taboos surrounding sex in the second-most populous country but also effectively put the growing adolescents into a position where they can be informed about their bodies.
Not only is this issue a clear example of how cultural notions of female health can create a negative impact, but it is also a reminder of the ever-turning wheels of a profit-based economy, where the grassroots labourer is dehumanised and stripped of their rights. In a set-up where a person’s productivity is prioritised over their being, it is another compelling narrative on how profiteering and the lack of information about menstruation and female health exist in harmony to wreck the lives of such economically disadvantaged groups.
The discomfort of open defecation, lack of dialogue around menstruation, the pain of daily labour and growing poverty are all aspects of their lives that plague their well-being. Womb-less, the newspapers and journals call them. Right-less, I would say. Lack of their right to information is blatant in this issue. Give the women in Beed the right to bleed and be.