With promises focused on them, political parties seek to woo women; but autonomy and assertion are still strangers to women voters of Telangana.
Women of a Banjara Tanda in Nalgonda of Telangana working as farm helps. (Anusha Ravi Sood/South First)
For the very first time, eligible women voters, at 1.63 crore, outnumber male voters, at 1.62 crore, for the Telangana Assembly elections slated for 30 November.
Although comprising more than half the electorate in Telangana, the voices of women in India’s youngest state are seldom heard when it comes to politics. In their homes, as candidates of parties, as leaders in public life, or even in the media discourse on elections, women’s voices are few and far between.
However, take time out to speak to the women of the state, and the conversations are a revelation. They reveal difficult-to-achieve aspirations, an eagerness to be simply heard, and a vote caught between the conventions of patriarchy and a desire for autonomy.
Burqa-clad 24-year-old Sameena of Sitagondi village in Boath was reluctant at first to speak about elections. Her two sisters and mother wouldn’t even make eye contact with a stranger asking them about the coming polls.
It was not until her father attempted to speak on her behalf that Sameena chose to answer.
“Ours is the only country that is home to people of so many faiths. India won’t be the same if you remove anyone from her — Hindu, Muslim, Christian, or Sikh. Whoever comes to power has to ensure everyone is treated as equals and there is peace and harmony,” she said through the veil covering her face, her eyes conveying her resolve.
Of the hundreds of people South First spoke to across the length and breadth of Telangana, not one other person had spoken about the need for communal harmony quite like Sameena did.
For Kaveri, who was sitting one bench away at the bus stop, the concerns were more personal, but the struggle to speak freely was the same.
“KCR [Chief Minister K Channdrashekar Rao] hasn’t done anything for us,” she reluctantly rebelled, even as her husband Ganesh insisted his family would vote for BRS.
Her response — the result of this reporter’s insistence on hearing her opinion — took her husband aback. Women speaking their minds perhaps has that effect on many — especially men.
“We are living in a house whose roof may collapse anytime, but we haven’t received the double-bedroom homes as promised,” Kaveri complained, asking Ganesh if she was wrong in saying so.
Not receiving benefits of the KCR government’s housing scheme was perhaps the single-most common complaint by women voters across the state.
The tapped water connection provided to homes under the Telangana government’s much-touted Mission Bhagiratha has made the lives of lakhs of women easier, but for someone like Bujji, a Banjara woman living in a tanda (tribal hamlet) nestled in the hills of Nalgonda, the scheme is nought.
“There is no connection for us hill-dwellers. I walk to get water from nearby farm borewells,” she told South First while resting after hours of labour at a paddy farm along with a group of women.
She gets ₹300-₹400 for a day’s work, while men get ₹500-₹600. Poor monsoons failed her three-acre paddy crop, compelling her to work as farm help.
She lists out all the things that bother her and she wants to see changed, but ask her about whether she will use her vote to demand the things she wants and she says, “We all vote for whoever our sarpanch (village head) says.”
Awareness of her problems hasn’t translated into an ability to seek accountability, or autonomy of decision-making.
The senior-most in the group of women was 67-year-old Masru. She lost one kidney years ago but gets no help from the government — not even old-age pension. “I don’t get pension because my husband gets it, and it never reaches me,” she says asking why government thinks old women don’t need care.
She isn’t alone.
Nearly 70 years old, Shakuntala, in white and green saree, on her way to work as daily wage labourer in Adilabad of Telangana. (Anusha Ravi Sood/South First)
Her old saree tied in dhoti style, nearly 70-year-old Shakuntala of Pipparwada in Adilabad was walking with her packed lunch in hand. “My husband uses all the pension money he gets on alcohol. If I don’t work, I have nothing to eat,” the Dalit woman told South First.
Telangana’s old-age pension scheme offers ₹2,000 to senior citizens, but only one of a couple — either the husband or the wife — receive it. By virtue of the man attaining eligibility of age first, husbands end up becoming beneficiaries, cutting out the women.
“Had she gotten the money instead of my father, she would have at least bought groceries. Is this an age to work as a labourer?,” Muiji Sangeetha, Shakuntala’s daughter asked. Sangeetha earns ₹200 as a daily wager herself, and price rise is breaking her back.
Telangana’s inflation rates have been the most volatile in the country, ranging from 10 percent in June 2022 to 8.5 percent in August 2023.
“State government stopped its free rice scheme and now we are dependent on the Union government scheme but what about other things to run the house?” she rued over not having enough money to feed her family.
“Forget Dalit Bandhu or the double-bedroom homes that we will never get! The government should do something to help with prices of oil, food, and fuel,” she pointed out. The promises and guarantees of “cash in hand for women” appeals to her.
For women like Kalavva, who lives in the Ambedkar Colony in Shadnagar town, or Chitti, a tender coconut seller in Tulekalan in Ibrahimpatnam, or Anasuya, who irons clothes on a pushcart in Jadcherla, what the men of their houses decide is the final word on who they vote for.
The option of disagreeing with the men of the house seems improbable to them.
There are, however, also women like Geethanjali of Inderveli in Khanapur, or Sheikamma of Medak, or Malavika in Mancherial who confidently express their personal choices and reasons for them.
“I started working in Hyderabad in March this year and that is development. Why won’t I give my first vote to BRS that has developed our state capital so well?” Malavika, a first-time voter in Mancherial said, mincing no words that she is a fan of KT Rama Rao, KCR’s son who is also working president of BRS and IT minister of Telangana.
Development in her native village is a far cry from Hyderabad, she acknowledges.
Shivani and Abhinaya — both first-time voters and BTech students in Warangal — share Malavika’s enthusiasm for KTR’s work.
“We aspire to work in the big companies. When we see the big buildings and opportunities in Hyderabad, we see the government’s good work,” Shivani said.
Abhinaya although is concerned that none of the parties are paying attention to students. “So many young people aren’t getting jobs. It is scary,” she said.
Even as the shiny buildings of tech giants in Hyderabad appeal to them, the two women prefer Bengaluru as their first choice for work. “Except, it is expensive,” they laugh.
Concern over jobs isn’t something that is limited to students — women job aspirants, and parents of youngsters whiling away their time with no job in hand are also worried.
“My eldest daughter did her MBA but is now a homemaker. My second one did MA, BEd and is sitting at home. She, too, will get married and become a homemaker. My relatives mock me, asking what was the point of educating them,” 56-year-old Srinivas of Nalgonda told South First, disappointed over how unemployment is more punitive for women who already have to fight for an education.
Mallikamba in Ghanpur Station Assembly seat saw her son struggling to get a job, eventually give up, and drive an auto. “Jobs and price rise — the two things the BRS government has failed all of us on,” she complains, insisting that the incumbent party won’t win from her constituency this time.
She is glad Congress has fielded a woman candidate — Indira — in the segment.
In Jangoan of Telangana, Srinidhi holds up the ‘Bathukamma’ saree given to her this year, disappointed. (Anusha Ravi Sood/ South First)
The disillusionment is present even among those who got a government job but not the vision of a Telangana that was promised.
“I work closely with the government in the healthcare sector, and behind all the tall claims is the ugly reality of shortage of doctors, medicines, medical staff and a fund crunch,” a nursing officer from Husnabad, who didn’t want to be named, told South First.
The 28-year-old is convinced the BRS government cannot address unemployment and fund crunch effectively. “[BRS MLC and KAC’s daughter K] Kavitha was presented to the women of Telangana as the voice of our women, but where is she now,” she asked, disappointed with the poor representation of women in decision-making roles.
When asked what women-centric government scheme she has availed, Srinidhi of Jangoan rushed inside her house. She reappeared in a minute with her “Bathukamma saree” that is given to women of Telangana by the BRS government to mark the Bathukamma festival.
“Our farmers use these sarees to protect crops from wild animals. They aren’t fit to be worn,” she complained.
She would rather that the government transfer money into her account. “I can use it to buy oil that is selling at ₹200 per kg,” she said. Throughout the conversation with South First, the 35-year-old kept shifting gaze to her husband, seeking approval of sorts for what she was saying.
Key parties in the fray in the Telangana Assembly elections have promised women-centric schemes and guarantees in the hope of wooing women as an independent electorate divorced from the caste, community, and patriarchal control.
Their success will depend on whether they can convince women of the value of their vote as a means to break away from indecisiveness and dependence, and achieve political autonomy in Telangana’s otherwise feudal and patriarchal electoral set-up.
May 02, 2024
May 02, 2024
May 01, 2024
May 01, 2024
May 01, 2024
May 01, 2024
