She is me

10 days ago, my heart ached when I read the truly shocking news about a young 23 year old girl who was gang raped and brutally assaulted on a moving bus in Delhi, India. To hear the breaking news today that she had succumbed in her fight for survival broke my heart. I cried, both tears of sorrow and of undeniable anger. The reason for my grief is the simple notion ‘She is me’. This girl was 23, she was smart, confident, independent, she was studying medicine, was seeing a movie at the cinema with a male friend. I’m 23, I studied medicine and engineering, I too frequent the cinema with my male friends at 9pm of an evening. In every essence this girl is me. But to think the one thing that split us apart is the fact that she was born in a country where being any of those things is a social crime, where the gender lottery of being born a woman can instantly condemn a child to an inferior life. Violence against women is present all over the world, but NO country does it with such impunity as India.

India may be the world's largest democracy, but it’s also one of the most dangerous countries for women. It recently beat Abu Dhabi, Afghanistan and Thailand to be the number one most dangerous G20 country for a woman, not a number one any country should be proud of. I’ve been to India, I lived in India’s central south, Bangalore, for one month, and it was an experience that has changed my life.

It is an undeniably beautiful country, with the most generous and kind people at its core. Its people are smart, incredibly smart actually, and have an innate pride in everything they do. They made me smile a million smiles, but India also made me cry.
In India I saw a lot of things, things I never want to see again… I saw women getting beaten by their husbands, not just in the villages, but in the affluent apartment complexes too. I walked home from school with an 11 year old girl who carries a stick to ‘beat away bad men’, and I saw a 5 year old girl lying naked in the gutter on the edge of a slum… India broke my heart, but it set it alight too. 

It inspired me to start my own social enterprise, Roka, which empowers women in rural Bangalore through education and economic empowerment. I saw the need for change in India, and I decided to act upon it, even after being warned of village ‘mafia’ and my safety, even as a western woman. Because the only crime these women have committed is that have been born at the bottom of an ancient social hierarchy, and they will forever be punished for simply being a woman. Roka won’t change the world, nor the lives of every woman in India, but it can change the lives of these women, in this village, and change can be the wildfire that touches all.

The horrific gang-rape of the 23-year-old med student on a moving Delhi bus, has seemingly knocked India's entrenched ‘blame-the-victim’ mentality off its footing. A woman in India is told not to dress provocatively, to never be alone, and to not be outside of her home after dark, all for fear of being assaulted. If, as so often it does happen, a woman is abused, it is her fault for not following the stringent social rules. The blame is always on the victim. This is a society that is telling women not to get raped, rather than telling men not to rape. It is a society where there is no trust in government or its police, where women would rather suffer the social shunning of rape then to be berated, ridiculed, and abandoned by a policing system that is stacked against them and rife with corruption. Only 26% of reported rapists in India ever get charge, with the charge often a finger-waggling and wrist slap. This lack of punishment and conviction, as well as the social degradation towards the victims, results in 75 -95% of rapes never even getting reported. Women are left to suffer in silence and often take their own lives as a result of the cultural shame.  In India, the rape victum is the only one who gets the death penalty.

But the horrific events in Delhi is a sheer reflection of the way India has evolved. Women being raped day in and day out is a story of Indian evolution, this is a country where, almost exactly two years ago, a 13-year old girl was gang-raped by four boys. After they left her by the side of the road to die, she crawled into a brick kiln, where she was found and raped by two other men. Later, she was found and raped by a rickshaw driver, only to be abducted and raped for another nine days by a truck driver and his accomplice. As if the Haryana rape spree earlier this year, and the religious and political leadership’s indifference to it, weren’t awful enough, The sad fact that still more gang-rapes have been reported, and hundreds more unreported, since Sunday's bus attack seems to further confirm that Indian women will continue to suffer this undeserved short straw in life. India, according to many, is a lost cause for equality for women. 

But India is not a lost cause. India is a land of potential, with the potential to be one of the greatest economies in the world. Yet with half of its population being marginalized, India is its own worst enemy for global development. The fact that 18% of Indian’s, both men & women, are still discriminated against as Dalit’s, shows that what is needed is not simply a legislative change, but a social one. Some are asking for capital punishment for the offenders of rape, however living in India is itself punishment for women.

Too many people, and politicians in India, have an addiction to superficial things and not enough conviction for substantial things like justice, truth, and change. People these days seem to have lost grasp on the basic morals that should bind us together. We seem to have replaced empathy, compassion, and understanding with an innate desire to scrutinize, judge, and criticize.

When I was in India, I was assisting in a government school class. When asked what super power they wanted one little girl, 11yrs old, replied 'I want to be a doctor, because everybody likes doctor, and they help people everywhere'. My heart was in my throat. These girls don’t lack dreams or ambition, what they lack is opportunity, and it broke my heart to think that all this little girl wants is to be respected, to be needed, to help people, but she will more than likely never be afforded the opportunity, because of her gender, and her caste. Women have an incredible potential, if they are afforded the opportunity to harness it. Not every girl or boy can be a doctor, or prime minister, but every child should be given an equal opportunity to try.

So, Consider this an open letter, to Sonia Gandhi - President of the Indian National Congress

What has occurred in Delhi is an atrocity at its best, but what is more saddening is that this happens all too frequently in India and that it has only taken a global outcry like this to make violence against women an issue to be addressed in India. Women have often been shunned in Indian society, put in the corners, told not to cause trouble. But women aren't the problem in India, they are the solution. The plight of girls is no more a tragedy than an opportunity. An opportunity to rectify the wrongs of this democracy, and opportunity for India to show it values its people and their lives, an opportunity for India to utilize the potential it has and to be the great nation it can be.

The young girl attacked in Delhi was called Damini by the media, a touching tribute to the spotlight she has placed on rape. But what is her real name? I’ll tell you what it is, her name is your name, your daughter’s name, your granddaughters. Because in this India, this could have happened to anyone. 

Unfortunately, the Indian government has successfully convinced the international community that gender discrimination is an internal, cultural issue. But the truth is, it affects the very way the country is run.

Indians, and in particular Indian women, are culturally taught to shut up and not question anything. Thus, even though the atrocities and need for action are obvious, nobody important will sit up and say 'We need to change things'

It isn't easy to change things but it needs to be done. You, Mrs Gandhi, are an intelligent, strong, and outspoken individual. You are a woman. And you, of all people, have the best chance of taking this archaic bull by the horns and showing it the right direction

So this is my call to India, to you, this is your chance to stand up and make substantial change, to show the world you can. Harsher penalties for rapists, reductions in police corruption, equality for women of all social standing, are not the silver bullet solutions we all want. But together, it’s a start. And with legislative change, guidance from their leaders, and equipped with knowledge, the social change can begin and India as a country can move forward as a proud country, for both men and women. Every woman that is raped is you. She is our sisters, our daughters, our granddaughters. She is me.

India...and all it's lessons

It has taken me a long time to write this post. Iv been insanely busy, but mainly, iv just been trying to digest exactly what I experienced in country of colour, cast, and oh so much contrast… India. 

It’s taken me awhile to write this blog post because I struggled to put into words exactly what I experienced in India.

 I knew before I went to India that it would challenge every moral, emotion and belief I have, that it would overwhelm me physically, emotionally and mentally. But I didn’t plan for it to change me in the way it has.

I was so incredibly fortunate to be offered a grant to travel as an ambassador for the 40K Foundation Australia. As a Young Australian Citizen of the Year (Kiama) I was sent over with a group of young people from all different backgrounds. Brenda grew up in conflict torn Lebanon, Donna from Macedonia, Jay-Hee from Korea, Tim from England… all different but with one common goal: to make a difference.

 

 My experience in India was nothing short of incredible, and I could write for days about it. About living with no electricity, no water, squat toilets, riding in the back of banana trucks, playing cricket with the kids from the slums, but iv decided to highlight the 3 main lessons that India taught me and what had the biggest impact on me....

Now anyone who’s been to India will tell you the first thing that hits you when you walk out of the airport is not the colour, the noise, or even the heat. It’s the smell. And there is no way to possibly describe it other than it really is a smell that is distinctly indian. It’s a combination of exhaust fumes from the millions of rickshaws,spices, dogs, urine, burning rubbish, incense... everything!
Some people get very off-put with India because it is 'dirty' and they have rubbish in the streets. Whilst you do have to dodge piles of rubbish on every footpath, as well as being a great obstacle couse it also serves a very important purpose....

They don’t throw their food and rubbish on the streets because they are dirty, they do it because they hope that someone can use their waste. This is one of those purely amazing incidences where what we deem an ‘underdeveloped country’ has achieved what the world’s most developed nations can’t: an effective recycling system. India is the truest example of the saying ‘One mans trash, is another man’s treasure’ Because NOTHING gets wasted in India. The reality is, if India actually had a functioning waste collection and disposal system it would destroy the country. Millions of people would die. The millions of people who live off the streets in the slums, the 'rag pickers', the animals who live off the rotting food on the sidewalk, they would all die without this primitive form of recycling. ‘fixing’ a problem like introducing waste disposal it seems would actually do more harm then good. I learn't pretty quickly that going into these countries with our 1^st world solutions for their 3^rd world problems is not the way to fix things. The way to help these people is not to give them a hand-out, but rather a hand-up, empower them with the skills so they can help themselves. 

The thing that is overwhelming about India is the poverty. And it was on a level i had never imagined... It has been over 2 months since i returned from India yet i realised that since iv been back i have not bought a single piece of new clothing. It's because i no longer look in my wardrobe and think 'i have nothing to wear'. Having no shoes and one dress, which happens to be your government issue school dress, is having nothing to wear. But what was most overwhelming was the kindness and generosity of these people who i thought had nothing to give.

You always here people say 'Oh they have so little yet they are so happy'...but that's a load of crap. Spend even one night with these people in a hut with no electricity, no water, the kids are hungry and the men are drunk, and you realise these people are NOT happy. But what they are is resilient. They are the strongest and resourceful people iv ever met. They are far from happy, but they are accepting of what they have. And despite their poverty, they still manage to be so overwhelmingly kind and generous. To be walking along the road to the village with the kids and to be invited into a home was one of the moset humbling experiences iv ever had. Their entire ‘home’ was smaller than my bedroom with the sole contents being 2 pots and a kerosene lamp. Nothing else. A family of 4 live here. I was offered tea, using precious drinking water Chavita and her mother probably walked no less than 2hrs to get. Then I was offered a meal. I knew very well that the contents on my plate were probably the familys ration of food for that night, and every bone in my body ached to want to say no, but I knew what saying no would mean... One thing the Indian’s value more than their food is their pride, and if id refused that meal it would be like me saying that what they have is not good enough for me, that I think they are inferior to me. And as much as considered that this meal, cooked with questionable meat, could make me violently ill for 3 days, I could see how proud Chavita’s mother was that she could offer me a meal, I decided that me being bedridden for a few days was a small sacrifice I was willing to take in order to show these people how much I respected and appreciated their generosity.

The amazing thing is that this same story was not at all exclusive. Walking home from a class the kids would lead me to their shantys to meet their parents where I would always be greeted with tea and a smile. Kids would come to school with a single sweet in their pocket and they would force it into my reluctant hand. They just wanted to feel like they could give ME something, and it nearly made me cry everytime. For the record, I didn’t get sick after eating Chavita’s meal, and biriani rice never tasted so good, and I have 4 tiny uneaten sweets that sit on my dresser to remind me that generosity is a gift that is not exclusive to those who own material possesions. Just like the ugly pinch pot your mum keeps all these years, just cause you made it and so proudly gave it to her, generosity is not about what is given, but the action of giving itself and its value is dependent on the purely on the value the giver places on it.

Education, and in particular girls education, has always been a passion of mine. It was the main reason for my agreeing to this adventure. You see, investment in girls' education may well be the highest return investment available in the developing world...The question is not whether countries can afford this investment, but whether countries cn afford not to educate more girls. Education is the only capital that does not experience diminishing returns. That is, you can not unlearn knowledge. And by increasing the education of girls an entire country can boost its economy hugely. But educating girls has many barriers; religion, family, location, and men. I had a class of 12 girls every friday, and one day one little girl, Mahalmshi, fainted right into my arms as she had not eaten all day. It shattered my heart, and I just wanted to run and go back to my little bubble where these things don’t happen. But in India I saw a lot of things, things I never want to see again… women getting beaten by their husands, children fainting, a 5 yr old girl lying in the gutter on the edge of a slum…but the truth is as much as I did’t want to see these things, we need to see them, because all this stuff is real, its happening right now, and we need to do something about it.

In class when asked what super power they wanted one little girl, 8yrs old, replied 'I want to be a doctor, because everybody likes doctor, and they help people everywhere'. My heart was in my throat and right there and then I nearly burst into tears. These girls don’t lack dreams or ambition, what they lack is opportunity, and it broke me heart to think that all this little girl wants is to be respected, to be needed, to help people, but she will more than likely never be afforded the opportunity because of her 'cast' (India's stringent social heirachy). Education provides an empowerment more than any law or legislation can. Education empowers people so they can change their own lives. And somedays I felt insignificantly small in my contribution with these kids but they didn’t care if I taught them maths or how to play cricket, all they cared was that I was there. That I cared. And that made me realise change isn't about 'changing the world' all at once, its about helping people, one at a time.

Sometimes people say you cant change the world, and maybe they are right, but by helping one person you can change their world, and sometimes, that’s enough.

When in India, along with my daily work in the 40K class rooms, i was tasked with a challenge to see if me and another young girl (a nursing student) could figure out a way to help the people of the Bangalore quarries in India. These people work 12hrs a day, 6 days a week, breaking granite rock by hand with just a primitive hammer and some chisels... and they earn $1.50 a day... I went and lived in the quarries for 3 days, sleeping on the cow-dung floor of a hut and picking mangos off trees as the main source of food. Whilst there, i realised that there was a largely underused resource within the village, the women. The women work in the quarries too, but they only break small rocks, and the older and much younger women can not do the back breaking work, yet all women expressed their desire to contribute to their family's income. After i spent hours sitting in a quarry playing with granite we came up with an idea. When they mine granite they cut large blocks which are used as bricks, the smaller rocks then get crushed for use as road base, and whats left is a fine granite powder which is swept up off the quarry floor every week and trucked off to be dumped by a river as waste. We thought, what if we could use this 'waste' to create a product that could be made by the women, providing them with economic empowerment and personal pride.

We came up with Roka. A social enterprise where the 'waste' granite dust is mixed to make a clay which is coloured, using natural Indian powders, then made into beads and pendants which are then used to make jewellery and items to be sold. The only problem with this enterprise was that the profits that would be made would be too much to give to the women! They could earn in 3hrs work what their husbands earn in a week, and in rural India this is not a good thing! Inequality against women is present all over the world, but no country does it with such inpunity as India. Being a firm believer in the power of education, we came up with the solution to Roka's excess profits... We decided to partner Roka with the 40K Foundation who were already establishing education centres in villages all through Bangalore to provide quality education to underpriveliged kids (read more about Roka and its conception here). The women were now not only earning an income to help provide for their families, gainign respect and personal pride, but they are also subsidising their childrens education by providing a PLUS education centre.

'women aren't the problem, but the solution. The plight of girls is no more a tragedy than an opportunity'.

Everyday when I have a fraction of time just to sit and think, I always wonder what my kids in India are doing. What the women in the quarry are doing, if Rani, who is my age, has managed to escape the wrath of her drunk husbands beatings, and if Amma is still hobbling in pain every night after back breaking work in the quarries. Roka is going to happen, because im determined to help these amazing women. But its the kids i miss the most. The realisation I had that I will probably never see these kids again, that I will never know what they grow to be, if they achieve their dreams, breaks my heart. I wonder if Mahalamshi had enough to eat today, and if she ever wonders if I think about her. I wonder if Chavita is still smiling that incredible smile everyday when she goes to class. But more selfishly I often just wonder if they ever think of me. Because whilst I went there to change their lives, I never imagined that they would change mine...