Mahila Milan

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Editorial
The 14 students in the
Cross-Cultural Workshop
at XIC have done an
outstanding job to produce
this newsletter in such a
short time. In less than
two weeks, they have sat
through ten lectures and
spent more than 15 hours
in Mankhurd and Byculla
with pavement dwellers.
This is the product of their
labour and talent.
I hope they have all
become more sensitive
to the world of the
disadvantaged. Indu and
I couldn’t have asked for a
better group to work with.
If they are successful in
their careers as journalists,
the effort will have been
worth every minute!
Julian Crandall Hollick
(Workshop Director)
Street Wise Writers:
Nathaniel Da Costa
Tanvi Deshpande
Anusha Iyer
Shahid Judge
Satya Kandala
Sanika Kanekar
Supriya Kapoor
Amruta Lakhe
Shruti Nagbhushan
Nishant Parekh
Veda Ramaswamy
Kasturi Roy
Newton Sequeira
Prachi Shailendra
Layout Editor:
Shahid Judge
Masthead Design:
Nathaniel Da Costa
Edited by:
Julian Crandall Hollick
Indu Agarwal
Special Thanks:
Maria Lobo, SPARC,
Mahila Milan, and NSDF
Product of:
Cross Cultural Workshop,
Xavier
Institute
of
Communications
Life’s Savings:
Satya Kandala and
Shruti Nagbhushan
The Bank that is
Mahila Milan
“Sometimes,
people
would
swear at us, calling
n the 1980’s, banks
us greedy thieves
refused to let the
working for fairpavement dwellers open
skinned
people,”
an account. Today the women
Banoo
recounts
of Mahila Milan have come a
disdainfully.
But
long way and are financially
soon
a
small
self-sufficient.
revolution began
This took dedication,
on the pavements
focus and empathy, both
of Water Street,
individually and collectively.
Byculla.
This group of women is
“Big
sums
like no other. They are the
of money are a
erstwhile pavement dwellers
problem. But for
who fought for their right
someone who earns
to decent housing for almost
a hundred rupees
30 years and won the battle.
a day, saving five
They did not stop there.
or ten rupees is Saving for progress -A passbook with entries of deposits and withdrawals
Today, they are financially
possible. It was
cautiously before. If they
any male member wants to
self sufficient and the group
hard, but we kept at it and
needed
thousand,
they
make a withdrawal from the
has enough money to give its
made it happen. We wanted
would take only thousand.
savings it requires the woman
members loans in times of
money of our own to help
They were scared of the
of the house to be present as
need.
us out in times of need. Who
repayment and were anxious
well. “Women are prudent.
The women recall that
else would care?”
to get it done with as soon as
They withdraw as much as
while they were petitioning
True. In a nation where
possible. But today, people
is necessary or even less.
and
meeting
different
poverty stares out of every
take up to one lakh or so
Men are spendthrifts; they
government officials for
street corner, there aren’t
without even thinking twice,”
waste all the money saved on
pucca housing, the thought
many who would help out in
Banoo beams as she points
getting drunk. So we make
of ‘saving’ entered their
the time of need. “By midat the column in her savings
sure that the women are there
head. “If we don’t save,
1980’s we were 536 families.
book that reads one lakh.
to balance the mens’ claim
what will we eat?” Jaitunbi
All of us had but one goal; to
The women talk about this
and to make sure that their
reasons as she pockets the
rise above the pavement of
big sum of money with a
savings are safe,”Jaitunbi
stray ten rupee note that she
troubles and being financially
certain pride in their voice,
adds with a knowing smile.
gets back as change for her
independent is a part of this.”
as if to show the world that
Lopez, an accountant at
‘paan’. But the women recall
And soon there came a time
they have risen above the
Byculla’s SPARC office states
how difficult it was in the
when the collection would
petty sums expected of the
that the Byculla centre alone
beginning to convince people
be around thirty thousand
pavement.
has 22,000 accounts. Anyone
to part with their money and
rupees or more each month.
Talking about the interest
could walk in and start a
come save at SPARC/Mahila
Then the group started
on the loan, the women
savings account with daily
Milan. For people who didn’t
giving out loans to the
keep it simple. They call the
deposits starting as small as
have much, the idea of saving
members of their community
2% charged levied, a two
five rupees. Every person
was alien. Banoo, who was in
who needed to revive their
rupees ‘service charge’ on
who has an account at the
charge of collecting money,
business, educate their son
every hundred rupees. Their
centre has their own book
would return empty handed
or marry off their daughter.
recovery process is simple
of records, which are later
on most occasions. “People used to borrow
too. The women visit the
computerized. Speaking of
house of the loan defaulter.
the knowledge these women
If it looks like they really are
had about saving, Lopez said,
in no position to return the
“They are the real experts.
loan, they give them another
They
remember
every
loan to get them back on
account and deposit without
their feet and ensure that with
even making a note. They are
the second loan the family
the pioneers who started the
stays afloat. If the man of
movement and lead the way.
the house dies or is suddenly
We are just following them.”
bedridden with sickness, they
He says this as he walks
write off the loan. These
towards a large board that
women, who have seen more
reads ‘Monthly Turnover’
than enough of their share of
and enters a five digit figuregrief, are quick to empathise
5,90,464, just from the
and act.
Byculla centre. From just Rs.
The loan is sanctioned
5 to a whooping five-digit
in the name of the woman
figure, success seems most
of the household. And if
inevitable for Mahila Milan!
Turnover chart of Mahila Milan’s Byculla centre
I
2
April 2013
Going Global
Globetrotters, (L-R) Jaitunbi, Banoo, Mustari and Zahida
tell us the story behind Mahila Milan
street dwellers have moved
into their own pucca houses,
living conditions of the poor
thanks to inspiration from
in other countries helped
the members of the Milan.
them realize that they too had
“The houses they have built
a right to live with dignity.
there are so beautiful! Among
They mobilised a movement
the street dwellers, they had
in other countries, talking to
engineers and architects, so
the authorities and getting
they designed the houses very
work started. “We carried
well. It’s funny, isn’t it? They
out extensive surveys in these
are the beggars, but they are
countries - how many people
the engineers and architects
stayed in one house, how
too!” says Mustari giving us a
many kids they had, where
rare smile.
their husbands worked.
Their next trip was to
There were people living in
Sri Lanka. Mustari quietly
the slums and on the streets,
comments that it is indeed
just like us. We showed their
a very poor
government how
country, much
we had taken
“The people we poorer
than
matters
into
India.
“Because
our own hands. visited
have
all
of the 2004
The people then
all
began to work visited us too. When Tsunami,
their
houses
like us,” Banoo
they visit India, we
were destroyed.
proudly states.
were
They spent 22 greet each other People
living in horrible
days in Bangkok,
South
Korea like old friends - we c o n d i t i o n s .
and Bangladesh. sing, we dance, we We went and
spoke to the
Mustari was very
authorities and
pleased
with celebrate.”
told them that
South
Korea.
their people were living in
She coyly states, “I loved
such pitiful conditions. They
Korea the most. It was so
were very understanding and
clean! There was not even a
immediately asked for land to
speck of dirt on the streets.”
be allotted to those people 40
Jaitunbi interjects, “Look at
miles away from the coast,”
Delhi; they say it is the capital
she recalls. Raising her head
of India, but look at the state
slightly Banoo says, “They
of their railway platforms!”
were so grateful, that when
They remember their last visit
they started the construction,
to Bangladesh, where now the
Amruta Lakhe and Shahid Judge twenty years. Studying the
F
our women sit at
the SPARC office
in Byculla. Banoo,
dressed in a light, simple
pink saree has a proud face
and a stern disposition.
Next to her sits Jaitunbi who
smiles at us continuously,
often breaking into fits of
laughter. Mustari sits on
the other side of Banoo,
quiet throughout, offering
her occasional opinion,
but otherwise observing
the student journalists very
carefully. Lakshmi is also
present, looking graceful in
a new saree, smiling at us
through intelligent, kind eyes.
Comfortable in each other’s
presence, they begin to tell us
their story. The extraordinary
story of eleven ordinary
women, who changed the
world.
“All countries are poor,”
says Banoo. “Because of
the work Mahila Milan did
for their community, other
countries were very impressed
and invited us over. We were
illiterate women who knew
nothing about travelling to
other countries. But we knew
how to do our job very well.”
These women have frequently
travelled to Bangkok, South
Korea, Bangladesh, Kenya
and even to the United States
of America over the last
Prachi Shailendra
“
Eleven ordinary women from the streets of
Mumbai sparked a revolution in 1986, and
shifted from the streets to pucca houses. They
went a step ahead, and made this a global
movement. This is their story.
She’s one of us. You make a move on her and
we’ll kill you! Go away now!”
The message is as clear today as it was during
the Hindu-Muslim riots of 1993. Lakshmi Naidu
may have been the only Hindu living on the streets
of Nagpada with more than 500 Muslim families,
but was never alone. And the residents of Nagpada
and Kamathipura pavements have proved time and
again that the religions are a binding factor, not a
dividing one.
“It’s we who create the disharmony in society,
not a Hindu God or a Muslim God,” says Sona
Pujari. “We do not fight. How does it matter if my
neighbour is a Hindu or a Christian or a Muslim?
We all are Hindustani first. We have fought together
to build our rightful homes. If we had thought of
religions among us, we would have never achieved
this. Our unity is our greatest strength,” adds
Shehnaz Sheikh.
Most of these dwellers are migrants from Bihar
and had a very traditional mind-set when they
settled down on the Mumbai streets in the 1960s.
And when the leaders of the fledging Mahila Milan
had started working in the 1980s, most of them
had to overcome this mind-set, which did not
permit women to get outside their huts, especially
they invited us to inaugurate
the land. They all have their
own houses now.”
The women share another
exciting
incident
that
occurred when they went
to help the slum dwellers in
Kenya, in 1999. The locals
thought the Mahila Milan
members were builders who
had come to demolish their
homes, hence leading to a
protest. “It took them some
time to realize that we were
one of their own, and were
there to help them,” Banoo
explains. “After that we
spent a month there, helping
them build thier own homes,
mixing cement and concrete.”
The women unanimously
agreed on being treated with
dignity and respect wherever
they went. With Sheela didi at
their side, they were sent only
to the top level officers. “We
spoke to the most powerful
people in these places. Sheela
didi had complete faith in us.
She made us sit with them
and let us do the talking,”
Mustari said, smiling through
her watery eyes, offering a
toothed smile. “The people
we visited have all visited us
too. When they visit India,
we greet each other like old
friends - we sing, we dance,
we celebrate. They are very
impressed with our successful
work, especially our Saving
Scheme.”
Lakshmi Naidu, a
founding member of
Mahila Milan, collected
the UN Award on behalf
of the group
Mahila Milan won the
United Nations Women’s
Right Award in the year 199596. It was a great honour for
their work to be recognised by
such a powerful international
body.
Lakshmi fondly remembers
the trip to New York. “These
trips made us realise we are
not the only poor people in
the world. There are people
who are more unfortunate
than us. Sometimes we feel
like we are much better off.
And we always feel obliged
to help them, like we help
our own people,” she smiles.
“After all, we’re in this
together.”
“We all are Hindustani first!”
Photo Courtesy: Martine Crandall Hollick
Mahila Milan celebrating the festival of Id-ul-Fitr at the Byculla office of SPARC in the year 1993
to work! As Sagira Ansari explains, “My husband
had threatened to divorce me. But I wanted to be a
part of Mahila Milan to learn new things, broaden
my vision and think clearly for myself.” And so, she
decided to think for herself instead of accepting
blind faith. She has had a happy married life, and so
had most other women in Mahila Milan.
As Sona puts it, remembering the 1993 riots, “At
Kamathipura, our huts were against the church wall
with Mother Mary on the other side. We told her:
Look, you may be facing the other way, but we are
behind you, on the other side. So you should look
after us as well as the Christians. See, we believe in
every God.”
3
April 2013
Taking the Legacy Forward
Nathaniel Da Costa and Sanika Kanekar
S
tarting a movement is easy; but the ability to keep it going is what needs true dedication. The eleven women who started Mahila Milan brought about a drastic
change in the lifestyles of 536 families who lived on the pavements of Byculla. They started a movement that stayed not just in Byculla but spread the world over.
Thirty years have gone by. Goals have been achieved, priorities have changed, and new generations have come up. Do the new kids on the Mahila Milan block share
the same enthusiasm and passion that the original eleven had? What are their hopes and dreams? What keeps them going and how will they remember their heroes?
We spoke to Shanti Shinde and Sunita Sonavne in Dharavi, second and third generation members of Mahila Milan to find out what they have learnt from the leaders
and how they see themselves growing in this organisation. Sunita’s youth shows throughout the interview, with her speaking her mind and occasionally causing laughter
and rebukes from the older members present. Shanti is more reserved, taking some time to think before giving her answers. Here are the excerpts from our interview.
Why did you join this organization?
We lived in the railway slums near Lower Parel. When the
I had come here for a job. Along with a few other members,
authorities razed our homes, we had nowhere to go. We didn’t
I used to conduct surveys in the area. After 4-5 months of
know what to do and housing was a problem. Lakshmi akka,
conducting surveys, (Jochin) sir said there is work in Mahila
Rehmat akka and others came to our locality and tried helping
Milan and I can do the same work in the organization. That’s
us. The senior Mahila Milan ladies guided us throughout and
when I joined Mahila Milan and now it is a very integral part of
provided us the support and got us involved.
my life. It’s like home. All the members are family.
Shanti Shinde
Sunita Sonavane
What have you learnt in Mahila Milan?
I am illiterate so I used to work in other people’s houses to earn a living. But it was
We have become confident, not only in our social lives but also in our private
insufficient to provide for my family. When I joined this organisation I was empowered. I
lives. We are not afraid of anything. We do not underestimate ourselves anymore.
now take up toilet contracts and earn a decent sum.
How has the older generation inspired you?
I admire their dedication to work and wish to imbibe that quality. Their
achievements make us want to work hard and achieve the same. It is said ‘A
student is wiser than the teacher’. We try to take in whatever they teach us. And
I think we can carry this forward and teach the next batch as much as we can.
The senior Mahila Milan members taught us everything. They taught us how to
form a society, how to save and other important things. They guided us well.
Now that your primary objective of getting a house is achieved what do you wish to do next?
Our mission is not yet over. We want all the slum dwellers and pavement dwellers
to move to better homes. We also want everyone to be employed. What is the use
of a house if you aren’t employed?
Now that we’ve got a house to stay, I wish other pavement dwellers too get a
house of their own. I wish the best for them too. I want their kids to study so that
their life changes for the better.
When you joined Mahila Milan, the foundations of the organisation were firmly set; do you know and understand what it took to build this?
Will the next generation understand the work you did?
I agree that our seniors struggled more than us. The kind of struggle they’ve
gone through is unimaginable. We just deal with petty issues now; they’ve done
the real work. Our condition is much better. But we’ve tried our best to match
up with them. I want this organization to grow more and reach greater heights.
My children know what I have gone through and my struggles. There was a time
when I couldn’t afford their education and was about to pull them out of school.
I have given my children full freedom to pursue their dreams wherever they wish
to, even if it isn’t with this organisation
For videos of the interview, log on to www.mumbaistreetstories.wordpress.com
Women
take the
Lead
Supriya Kapoor, Veda Ramaswamy,
and Nishant Parekh
H
istory is inundated with examples of
women who have stood behind their men
through triumph and defeat. Mileva Marić
collaborated with Einstein on his work. Edith
Wilson nearly ran the government when President
Woodrow Wilson had a stroke. Napoleon credited
his wife Josephine for boosting his confidence
before he went marching and George Bush was
persuaded by his wife Laura to stop drinking and
run for the President.
But the 11 women at Mahila Milan turned history
upside down when they came together and fought
against the Indian government for almost 30 years
to get a concrete roof above their heads; while their
men took a back seat and acted as their pillars of
strength.
So why was it the women and not the men
volunteered for this challenging task?
The women on the pavements are the ones who
spend most of their days on the streets, they do the
household chores and take care of their children,
while the men are away working in different corners
of the city. Their families, especially their husbands,
unchained themselves from the orthodox mentality
of women staying indoors and gave them the much
Photo Courtesy: SPARC
needed space to go ahead and organize themselves.
There were still some families that were against
their women stepping out of the house. The rest of
the women came together and explained to these
families that the presence of all the women will add
more strength to the group. They even managed to
convince the families that they would continue to be
good housewives even while working outside their
homes.
The struggle began with a lot of encounters with
the demolition squads and these women stood at
the forefront to protect their homes. Had men been
the torch bearers of this struggle, the police and the
government officials wouldn’t have thought twice
before beating them up, arresting them and tearing
down their houses. As women from 536 families
stood together to defend their homes from getting
razed, they defeated fear.
The women at Mahila Milan increased their
self-confidence by learning how to approach people
in authority and how to speak to them. Mahila Milan
fought with the state government, the police and
the civic authorities, handled legal cases, set up bank
accounts and initiated an internal savings scheme.
They were on the path of giving police, politicians,
bureaucrats and government agencies a reason to
look at them with respect.
In 2006, their vigorous efforts succeeded as
they acquired secured homes. But the battle still
continues as they help urban poor all around India
and the world.
We often wondered how difficult would it be
for women living on the pavements of Mumbai
to bring about a change for the betterment of
their community. We didn’t have an answer before
interacting with Mahila Milan. But now, we do.
Is it difficult? Yes.
Impossible? No!
4
April 2013
Building Blocks of Change
The next 15 years were spent looking for vacant
government land - land to build our own home.”
The room erupts with hushed voices. Words like
t is the year 2015 and 20 Architecture students
slum, footpath, filth and human rights are passed
at IIT Kharagpur are waiting for a guest lecturer
around the class.
when a diminutive woman walks in. Her plain
“You built your own house?” the students ask
features complement the traditional saree that she
incredulously.
wears.
“Have you studied engineering?” asks another.
“Put your books aside. Keep just a shoe lace,
Banoo understood the question. For most of the
pencil and a handkerchief. I want you to build a
world, without formal education one is not taken
house using just this.” Thisa gets the class’s attention.
seriously, especially in
The students struggle, some
India, where the name
giggle while the back bench languidly
of the college is more
doodles. Finally, some brave soul
important than the
says, “Ma’am it is impossible!”
grade.
“That’s what we thought too,”
“None of us have
says Banoo Sayyed Ishaq. “In
received any kind of
1985, the Supreme Court passed a
formal education. But
ruling that allowed the Municipal
we went to Kerala for a
Corporation of Greater Mumbai to
training programme and
demolish houses on the footpaths,
then Jockin Arputham
houses that we had been living in
(founder and chairman
for decades,” she continues.
of NSDF) taught us
A girl from Punjab asks, “What
the 1-2-3 formula. In
happened then?”
fact after our training,
“SPARC and NSDF helped us
we have even gone to
organize all the slum dwellers and
South Africa, Kenya,
pavement dwellers. United, we
Thailand and Cambodia
stopped the demolition drive.”
to develop housing
“Spark? You mean a spark plug,”
projects for the poor
snickers a student at the back.
there,” says Banoo.
Banoo smiles sportingly. “SPARC
“1-2-3?” the class
stands for Society for the Promotion
asks in unison.
of Area Resource Centres. But
“One ghamela of
yes, like a spark plug, it sparked a
Photo Courtesy: Martine Crandall Hollick
cement, two ghamelas
revolution.”
of sand and three ghamelas of gravel to prepare the
“Revolution! What revolution, Ma’am?” a student
concrete necessary for the supporting pillars of the
asks skeptically. Banoo smiles as she settles into the
building” clarifies Banoo.
Italian leather chair, a far cry from the one in her one
“Mmmm… What about area: size and space?”
room house in Govandi, a Mumbai suburb.
asks another student.
“We used to live on the pavements of Byculla.
“We devised our own scales. For instance one foot
Mumbai needed spaces and we were in the way.
Anusha Iyer and Newton Sequeira
I
Us and Them
Tanvi Deshpande and
Kasturi Roy
T
he kids have arrived. A
fresh bunch this year,
but the reluctance
and apprehension I sense
is familiar. They look about
the street leading upto Milan
Nagar with interest, and why
not. They have been plucked
out of their air-conditioned
classrooms to be brought
to a place they expect to be
filthy and unpleasant in every
sense of the word. And yet,
what they find is a modest,
residential area with pucca
houses. Our houses.
As they step inside, with
their laptop bags and fancy
cameras, I extend a reassuring
smile, showing they won’t
be treated here the way we
might be treated in a wellfurnished apartment in some
posh Mumbai locality. They
cram into the small room
and accept glasses of water
with gratitude. And then,
they don’t know what to do.
Staring at each other’s faces,
they wait for someone to
start. They look at Julian with
pleading eyes and when he
doesn’t help, we break the ice.
That is not difficult though,
since it’s a story we have been
narrating for the past 20 years.
We tell them about our lives
before SPARC happened.
How most of us came to
Mumbai after being married
off at an early age, how we
made our peace with the
shanties in Byculla, how we
worked mostly as domestic
help, the terror unleashed by
the monsoons, how we raised
our kids in narrow gullies we
called home until the houses
were demolished. Eyes widen
with shock, and I look at
their awestruck faces with
amusement.
Then comes the part they
have been waiting for. We
tell them about how we took
matters into our own hands
and struggled for the right
to have pucca roofs over
our heads. Everybody loves
a happy ending, don’t they?
The students’ faces break
into smiles as they listen
to how we were invited to
other countries to share our
stories and help others build
on what we did. This time
around, their eyes widen with
surprise. I can see respect
there. And a hint of pride.
As soon as we are done
talking, they break into
eager questions. We take
turns
answering
them.
was equal to the length of a mangalsutra or 5 metres
was equal to the length of a saree,” says Banoo.
With raised eyebrows and gaping mouths, the
students are glued to the conversation now.
She goes on, “It took us 20 years of running from
pillar to post to acquire the land that was meant
for us. In 2005, after numerous protests, Gautam
Chaterjee, the Chief Manager of MHADA helped
us get the necessary paper work done.”
The questions start flying thick and fast.
“Who was the architect?”
“How many families got homes?”
“Why are you teaching us?”
“Why did you have to go to South Africa and
Cambodia to teach them construction? Don’t they
have experts?”
Banoo thinks for a moment before replying. “It
is the poor who understand the poor the best. We
knew how to design houses, but more importantly,
we understood what the people needed. That is
why we were invited by the governments of those
countries.”
Banoo goes on to inform the class how the
blueprint of the house was created. “We used
bamboo sticks, sarees and cardboard to create 4
different sample flats. Each of the 536 families
living in Byculla chose the model which had a loft.
We decided to construct toilets outside the house
compound.”
“Why did you decide to have the toilets outside?
Isn’t it a little awkward?” says another student.
“We decided to have common toilets to give
women a chance to step out of their houses and
interact with each other. It became a means of
socializing.”
Intrigued by her response, the questions keep
coming. The change in the students, themselves
from different parts of the country, is evident. The
students are richer by her knowledge and inspired by
her stories. The skepticism has given way to a newfound respect. The conversation moves to the IIT
canteen.
Authors’ Note: This is a fictional story based on facts
Mahila Milan shares its experiences with Journalism students from XIC
And now they want to take
photographs, something I
can never get accustomed
to. I smoothen my saree
and look at the camera. The
picture has come out good
and I smile to thank the
student. She tells me her
name and I ask where she is
from. It is amazing how all
of us have made Mumbai our
home now.
I ask her what kind of
a journalist she wants to
become. “A good one!”
she replies promptly, while
putting on her shoes. “The
good ones don’t cover our
stories,” I tell her and a look
of embarrassment crosses
her face. I want to tell her how
important it is to understand
the power a journalist wields,
how he or she can change a
life, change for the better or
the worse. “But then… not all
journalists are like that… we
have been taught ethics and
journalistic principles…” she
says. Principles. I don’t know
what that means. SPARC
made it a point never to offer
or accept bribes. I wonder if
we could have afforded to do
that without their support.
Can we, the mango people of
India, stick to our guns on an
empty stomach? “That’s what
we are here for, right? To fight
your battles for you!” I sigh.
“Will you? Or will you be too
busy trying to save your job?
Ultimately, everybody has to
fight their own battles!” She
doesn’t know what to say.
I don’t even expect her to.
They’re all far too young. But
I hope they think about it and
not become just another micthrusting, camera-wielding
lot.