The village assembly

"MASTER! Master! Are you at home?" shouted Jamila Bibi confidently as she marched into the courtyard, followed by three other women from her village. After having successfully managed negotiations with the bank manager for loans and the government officers for housing subsidies and maternity benefits, the menfolk had begun to address her as "Indira Gandhi". She had truly earned the title and, with a daughter-in-law at home to do all the household work, spent much of her time championing various causes of the members of her women's group.

Making herself at home, she quickly came to the point. "Master, there's going to be a gram sabha tomorrow in Sudamdih, shall we go?"

Ghosh babu was more than surprised. Where had Jamila got the idea of "women's participation" from? Certainly, neither he, nor Masterin, had encouraged women to get involved with such a potentially dangerous domain as the village assembly. The gram sabha has always been the exclusive territory of touts, agents and petty contractors. Instead of panchayati raj in Bihar it's the ticcadari raj. With local elections being postponed for the last couple of decades, government officials in league with self- appointed village leaders have helped chart Bihar's impressive path of development.

And so roads have been constructed where vehicles are non- existent, canals where there is no water, bus stops where there are no buses, and drains in the middle of villages so that children can defecate in the stagnating, stinking water and spread illness (so that they can go to the newly-built, four- roomed health centre, where there are no doctors, nurses, staff or medicines!).

As with all epochs, the ticcadari raj has led to the emergence of a new class. At the lowest level are the touts, who are found now among every caste and every village. These touts have thrived upon "development", and almost every matric-pass boy aspires to contribute towards development by becoming a member of this class. The gram sabha was the province of these men. Whatever was Jamila Bibi thinking of!

Still Ghosh babu did not try and put her off. "If you really want to go and watch, then don't go alone, take some other members of your mahila mandal along," he advised.

"Watch! Only watch! Oh, no. We have our demands too. Why should the men always decide what work is to be done?" she answered. "Look at what Farid Ansari did in our village last year. Did anyone benefit from that except Farid himself?"

Jamila went on to describe how Farid had managed the contract for constructing a chabutara (a square-shaped, cement block, ostensibly for meetings) in front of his shop, since no one in the village would give him the land. It blocked the entrance to his shop, and women used the construction to dry their grain and cow dung cakes. Bit by bit, Farid pulled the thing to pieces, greatly assisted by the fact that he had mixed very little cement with the sand. Now there was nothing left at all.

"See, we have five mahila mandal groups in our village. When it rains, we have no place to meet. When any officer comes, we can't invite him into our small hovels. We want an open shed," explained Jamila, as if it was there for the asking.

By the following morning, Jamila had succeeded in mobilising most of the women in her village, and a sizable number from the surrounding ones as well. Each group of women had their own demands. The number one demand was water - for drinking, bathing and irrigating fields. Roads, culverts, drains or bus shelters were on no one's agenda. The subject of "who" would implement these works was no one's concern at all.

Soon after the women reached the panchayat bhavan they began to hear murmurs of discontent among the touts and agents who had gathered. By the time the government officials arrived four hours later, many were visibly angry. The large presence of women had an unnerving effect. Even the government officials were reluctant to get down from their jeep.

"How can the BDO hold a gram sabha with all these women around! Send them all home!" shouted one drunkard, who received much applause.

It soon became apparent to the women that "people's participation" was a concept unheard of in government circles too. With much whispering in ears and passing of pieces of paper to and fro, village works were being democratically selected. The crowd of well-behaved, orderly women sitting on the floor was being effectively ignored, until word leaked out that a road to nowhere had been sanctioned in Jamila's own village.

Jamila had then had enough of sitting quietly. She jumped to her feet and demanded to be heard. Many other women followed suit, and it became obvious that they could be ignored no longer. In an effort to pacify the shouting mob of women, the government officer asked, "Now then, if you must, what is your demand?" Pat came the reply, "A shed for the women." And who would get it built? Fatima bibi shouted, "Jamila bibi will build it!" And all the women began to clap and shout as the clerk announced that Jamila bibi would build a shed for women in Borpokhar.

Then the contractor lobby began to spew forth their venom with even more aggression. "What the hell is all this? Women first of all coming to meetings - and then getting contracts! Get rid of them all from here!" shouted one.

"These are women from our villages! Our sisters and mothers! Why are they here?" another one pleaded to the police officer.

Thoroughly convinced, the police officer came to persuade Masterin to take away all the women - since it's impossible for them to have had the intelligence to come on their own! "See, all these men are from the same villages. What is the need for the women to come as well? Why don't you take all these women home and let the men get on with things?"

"What do you think of yourselves?" shouted Jamini Devi. "Don't women have votes in this country? If women are not allowed in this meeting, then there'll be no meeting at all!"

"Sir, please go home," said Fatima plainly and firmly. "You are not wanted here. If you can't manage such meetings in an orderly way, if you can't do your job, then don't bother to come. Kindly get in your jeep and go away." And all the women cheered as the BDO and his men made their escape.

As he got into his jeep, he whispered to the gang of touts who surrounded him, "Don't worry, come and see me in my office. We'll manage everything later."

LINDSAY BARNES

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