If poverty pushes old city into the jaws of loan sharks, predominant victims are its womenfolk. Married off very young and left to endure a life consigned to abject penury, many women from here solely assume the mantle of breadwinner, albeit without the concomitant rights. The poorer the family, the more victimised they are.
Shaik Aziza, mother of five, has a loan of Rs.30,000, for which she pays a monthly interest of Rs.1,000. This resident of Hashamabad from Chandrayangutta knows well that she will never be able to clear the principal amount.
“I borrowed repeatedly because my husband had no money to pay in advance for lifting the ‘maal',” she explains, referring to her hawker husband who is an inveterate addict, “He drinks and beats me, and rarely ever gives money for running the house. I meet the expenses solely from my earnings as tailor.”
One among six girls, she was given to her husband in second marriage at tender age. Since then, she has been mostly on her own, as her husband's visits are only occasional. Such is the predicament of many women from old city, for whom, a husband has no relevance except in terms of social security.
Khaleda Begum, also from Chandrayangutta, works as domestic help, but is forced to make her children beg at mosque when she is in dire need of money. She has no other go, as her husband who works as driver, gives practically nothing at home. Like Aziza, she too was given in second marriage to a man 15 years elder to her.
Girl children born in poverty are often a burden that “ought to be rid off” soon. The first affordable match is the best, irrespective of the groom's age, earnings or character. “Parents can't afford the dowry which increases in proportion with the girl's age. So, least dowry is the only consideration for marrying off a daughter,” says Hussain Bee, an old woman from Indira Nagar.
Thus became Rehana Begum a mother of three children before she was 22. Her total jewellery is under mortgage, thanks to her husband, an auto-driver who drinks, fights and thrashes her often.
Her two sisters Shahana Begum and Zareena Begum too have their jewellery in mortgage. After jewellery comes the turn of television sets, sewing machines and even kitchenware.
“What can we do in times of crisis? Landlords and creditors create a scene if not paid in time. We must depend on borrowings,” Zareena says unfazed about her 100-day loan of Rs.3,000 at an interest of Rs.1,050. She repays by working in a cottage unit like many of her ilk.
Her husband works in a tiles factory, but often plays truant on the pretext of power cuts. Cornering him will lead to fights and discord.
“There have been instances of husbands committing suicide when pressed by wife to work and earn. That makes us endure everything in silence,” says Shaheda Begum, another woman.
