“I was
married at the age of 5. I didn’t know what it meant at that time. When I grew
up and realised what it meant, I decided to walk out of my marriage. Why should
I be married to a man several years older than me, against my wishes, at a time
when I didn’t realise what was happening? And so, a few years later when I had
the courage to take my own decision, I
decided to walk out of this marriage. My parents were furious. They said, ‘If
you walk out now, you will remain unmarried for life’. I said that I would
prefer it that way and instead, study and get into a career. I am now doing a
degree in law and soon I will be qualified”. Poonam said that very
nonchalantly, without any emotion or remorse, almost defiantly, but with a hint
of pride in the corner of her eyes. I may also have noticed a little smile.
By any
stretch of imagination, this would have been an amazingly defiant stand, coming
from someone in her early twenties, saying this in the presence of members of
her community, women and men – but even more so for someone living in a village
in Haryana from a Dalit community, a region notorious for its deeply held
patriarchal values, norms and culture, where atrocities against women are
rampant and the sex ratio is an abysmal 831 girls to 1000 boys.
This
was October 2019. I was visiting one of the villages in the state of Haryana
where ActionAid supported the local community to fight discrimination,
inequality and injustice. We were in the section of the village where the Dalit
community lived, in the outskirts of the village. The contrast in the economic
status between this community and the rest of the village was quite apparent.
The local community had gathered to talk to us about their work. It was a mixed
group of people with men slightly outnumbering women. Most of the women were towards
the rear of the meeting room, and much of the earlier conversation was
dominated by men.
As the
discussion progressed well over an hour, I could sense some restlessness among
some of the younger women, who tactically started moving forward towards the
front rows. It was clear that they didn’t want to be passive observers, but
also wanted to speak. A few of them were huddled together, perhaps making a
tactical plan of how to get their voice heard.
It was
at that point that Poonam and a couple of women spoke up. “Let us also speak.
We need to talk about our experiences”, one of them said. And that is what led
to the conversation taking a different angle and Poonam’s story.
It was
not just Poonam’s story and her resilience that stood out, but the confidence
with which she said it in front of the male leaders of her community, which would
have been unthinkable of in the context where the ‘khaap panchayats’
(traditional community groups) decided on socio-cultural norms which are
steeped in patriarchal traditions and entirely dominated by men.
Poonam
has no regrets. Once she gets the law degree, she hopes to lead the fight for
justice, especially for women in her community. There is certainly great hope if
every community can find, support and nurture their own versions of a Poonam !
