What does
a woman do when her little children lie curled up in a corner of the
house, depleted by hunger, and when the landlord is barking for the
monthly rent? She turns to the only money-generating avenue she sees
as her escape: selling her body.
The children were fed and the rent was paid but Mari, 38, was
ashamed of what she did for a living. It is three years since she
has turned her back on the sex trade. Her husband and children are
unaware of how she generated the money to keep the home fires
burning - yet Mari's past is a constant reminder of how something
can haunt.
Today, Mari's eyes
shine as words rush out of her mouth - faster than she can think.
For she is a proud woman, thanks to World Vision's initiatives to
give Female Sex Workers (FSW) a second chance at life. It was World
Vision that helped Mari put her past behind her and carve a better
future.
With its national headquarters in Chennai, World Vision works in the
areas of HIV/AIDS, child labor and poverty alleviation in India and
across 97 countries.
While the organization's Self-Help Group (SHG) was an idea that
worked well, World Vision believes that its Income Generation
Programme (IGP) is an even better alternative. It achieves the twin
objectives of integrating the women with the community, and giving
them a monetary start with which to make a new life.
Mari's garlic business is an inspiring story of what true commitment
and motivation can achieve. She now generates a decent profit from
bottling pickles and is even making enough to hire a helper.
"We started her off with a loan of Rs10, 000 (US$1=Rs 44)," says
Clara Raphael of World Vision. "Having started with cleaning and
packing garlic pods, she progressed to pickle-making for which there
is immense demand and has now expanded her range to include snacks
and savories."
The amazing thing about Mari is that apart from turning her life
around so successfully she is, today, a beacon for others. She
actively canvasses at monthly meetings to urge those in the flesh
trade to live a life of dignity. "Initially, the money I needed for
sheer survival compelled me towards that horrible life," says Mari.
"But today, I live with my head held high. I earn a decent living
and make an income just like others in our society."
World Vision also offers these women a space to come together as a
support group and hold regular meetings. About 40 women gather at
their premises, share experiences and listen to stories like Mari's
that are empowering. That it is possible to make a fresh start is
the theme of such meetings.
Bruised and broken, these women often need a space to get body and
soul back together before they embark on a new life. This is where
World Vision's Short Stay Homes are a boon. Living as a group, they
shed their sense of isolation and acquire skills in basket weaving,
candle- and soft toy-making. Many of them are offered training in
counseling and go on to become able ambassadors, merging with the
community at large and helping others in the process. Since their
inception in 1999, the Short Stay Homes have impacted the lives of
around 30 women.
All Sarla wanted from life was to be was a good wife, and mother to
her five children. When her husband, a truck driver, died after a
prolonged illness, eventually diagnosed as AIDS-related, the
32-year-old widow had never heard of the disease. She didn't know
even then that her husband had infected her or that her two young
children had been born HIV+. Burdened with five children and the
stigma of a dreaded disease, Chennai-based Sarla approached her
father for assistance - but in vain. Treated as outcasts in her
paternal home, mother and the affected children were rescued and
given a home by World Vision as part of their new concept of Group
Living.
"I live with a woman who has two children of her own. I gave up one
of my children to Udavum Karangal, (a Chennai-based NGO for orphans
and the destitute), the other kids dropped out of school and I
started to make a living by selling 'sundal' (boiled chickpeas).
Today, thanks to this NGO, I work as a peer counselor with a
de-addiction centre."
The women share household chores and Sarla has found the peace that
had eluded her all these years. "We live like sisters though we're
not of the same blood. Even real sisters couldn't be more
affectionate," Sarla says emotionally. She yearns for the child she
gave away, a boy who does not recognize his own mother, but believes
she had no other choice at the time.
"The two women care for one another because they understand the true
nature of this illness. They are more confident and able to live
their lives freely," says Raphael. In Chennai, World Vision has five
such Group Living homes and one Short Stay Home where 25 women live.
Initially, they pay the rent and provide dry provisions and slowly
phase that assistance.
That HIV/AIDS could forge a bond between two women, enough for them
to become each other's only family in the face of an entire world's
ostracism is ample proof of the value of the Group Living idea.
The neighborhood they inhabit is not privy to their story, so their
identity is protected. Of course that is easier said than done. The
staff at World Vision faces the challenge of protecting the
anonymity of the HIV/AIDS-affected women and tackling societal
discrimination and instances of police harassment that the women
experience. The organization also arranges the burials of HIV/AIDS
deaths.
"Whenever someone from World Vision visits, I introduce her as my
sister or brother. They are our family now so there is no untruth
here," says a smiling Sarla, deeply grateful for a new chance at
living.
March 25,
2007
By arrangement with
WFS
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