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Dated : Saturday, August 25, 2012 |
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For whom does the National Commission for Women exist ?
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Disillusioned and appalled with the “failure” of the NCW to intervene satisfactorily in the recent cases of violence against women, 92 women’s rights groups from across India have demanded a comprehensive review of the Commission’s panel to enable it to properly defend the interests of those in whose name it was created
Bula Devi
* April 2002: In the midst of allegations of mass sexual violence against minority women in the Gujarat riots, the National Commission for Women’s (NCW) fact-finding team found that no particular community had been targeted. This was in contrast to the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) reports and subsequent observations by the Supreme Court.
* January 2009: After the highly-publicized Mangalore pub attack incident - young women and men were beaten up, claiming the women were violating traditional Indian values - the then NCW member Nirmala Venkatesh, who carried out the fact-finding exercise, put the blame on the women who were attacked; her comments suggested that the women’s clothes were a major provocative point for the attack. As the controversy raged, she was removed.
* February 2012: Mamta Sharma, Chairperson of the NCW, who took over in 2011, made the statement that women should not be offended when they are called “sexy”, and should take it as a compliment instead. She had said, “Women need not be offended when called sexy. It is merely a compliment that the dictionary defines as beautiful and charming.”
* July 2012: After the recent horrific molestation incident of a minor girl in Guwahati, the Commission sent Alka Lamba for fact-finding, who not only created a huge media circus around her visit - posing for cameras in Assamese hat and shawl - but followed it up by holding press conference even before the report of the investigation was finalized. That was not all. Displaying a complete lack of protocol, Lamba also revealed the victim’s name to the press.
Disillusioned and appalled with the “failure” of the NCW to intervene satisfactorily in the recent cases of violence against women, 92 women’s rights groups from across India have demanded a comprehensive review of the Commission’s panel to enable it to properly defend the interests of those in whose name it was created. In addition, they have called for a transparent process of appointments to the Commission as well as the removal of the current NCW chairperson with immediate effect. The joint statement issued by the group read: “Institutions like the NCW that have been set up to safeguard women’s interests must be strengthened and enabled to carry out its mandate.”
It took 15 years of hard work to set up the institution and today it has been reduced to a mockery. Vested with powers of civil court, the NCW, set up in 1992, is empowered to be the watchdog on women’s issues and a facilitator in the redress of grievances. However, its persistent failure in performing its sworn duty has led rights groups to call it a “non-serious” national body. While the Commission is officially autonomous and its mandate is to recommend remedial legislative measures and advise the government on women related policy, these days it is seen as a mere “subaltern” of the Ministry of Women and Child Development.
Syeda Hameed, Member, Planning Commission, and a former NCW member, is still very emotional about the organisation and feels “distressed” by the irrational comments that have been made by its members of late. “It goes to show that there is no conceptual clarity. Why should women move in ‘burqas’ (veiled) and men go unhampered?” she wonders. Former NCW Chairperson Mohini Giri, who gave the Commission a fillip in 1995 by networking extensively to make it a visible and effective body, is also saddened by its prevailing “immature” functioning.
Prominent women’s activists point out several factors ailing the institution today. Primary among them is the selection criteria of the NCW chairperson and its members. As per rules, the Chairperson who is “committed to the cause of women” is to be nominated by the central government. However, more often than not, it is the woman with the right political leanings that is appointed to the position.
Sadhna Arya of the Delhi-based Saheli Women’s Resource Centre, who has done a research study on the decline of the NCW, elaborates, “By mere nomination of the political party in power, the chairperson is selected; there is no involvement of any other agency. With nobody from women’s movement, an atmosphere of insensitivity prevails towards women’s issues, and those who comprise the Commission have little grasp over the issues. Besides, there is no accountability towards those for whom the institution was created.”
Legal resource group, Partners for Law in Development’s Madhu Mehra agrees with this assessment. She says, “The flawed selection process has turned an important position into a plum posting for those whom the party in power wants to extend patronage. Most often it has been bestowed on people who are otherwise jobless.”
The rights groups across the spectrum, who represent a large and diverse section of Indian women, have, therefore, demanded that the government change the current nomination system with a “transparent, democratic and non-partisan” selection process. In this context, Giri recalls the recommendations that had been submitted at a national level meeting during her stint, which never saw the light of day. Perhaps this politicisation of the Commission was foreseen because one of the suggestions put forward was to set up a six-member selection committee comprising two members each from ruling party and the opposition and another two eminent persons from some other field. “The purpose behind this was to make the institute above political influences,” explains Giri. But nothing happened and now the NCW consists of “political faces that are immature.”
On the issue of autonomy, old timers recall how Giri had walked up to the then Prime Minister HD Deve Gowda at a meeting in the Vigyan Bhavan in Delhi and handed over her resignation in protest against unnecessary interference of the ministry. The next day’s newspapers were splashed with the news; Giri was subsequently mollified with an assurance that there would be no interference. But in practice that has remained a far cry.
Among the reforms discussed during Giri’s stint was the setting up of a proper investigation cell - on the lines of the NHRC - so that the right people are involved and true voices and experiences come forward. As far as justice is concerned, while the NCW is vested with civil powers, at times the cases turn out to be criminal. Says Giri, “There should be a debate on how legal cases should be tackled by the Commission. Moreover, it should aggressively network with all women rights groups in the country so that every case comes to the nodal body.”
Another lacuna that Saheli’s Arya points to is the unwillingness of new members to continue with the work of their predecessors. “Every panel functions on its own and since there is lack of seriousness on the part of the government, the NCW is more of the chairperson’s commission rather than a commission for all women in the country,” she rues.
Notwithstanding the fact that the recent Guwahati incident has proved to be a flashpoint in the relations between the NCW and women’s groups, nobody wants the Commission to fold up. Yet, many feel it is high time women’s groups became more assertive, question the nodal agency and constructively engage with it to make it accountable. With a view to proposing institutional reforms, these groups have asked for a “comprehensive review” of the performance of the NCW, in terms of its role in addressing systematic gender-related social, economic and legal issues (including law reform and police reform), its ability to pin accountability for violations of women’s rights and its ability to further the cause of justice for women. Instead of allowing it to become a “bureaucratic office that occupies itself only in bringing out brochure,” the time has come for the Commission to finally become the vanguard of women’s rights.
(Women’s Feature Service) |
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Why so many women prefer going blonde
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At its root, the desire to have light coloured hair represents an urge to look different, an expert has revealed.
According to Peter Frost, an anthropologist at Laval University in Quebec City, since most people have dark hair, blondes stand out.
Blonde hair evolved between 10,000 and 15,000 years ago. For our Ice Age ancestors, light hair may have helped women attract mates, who had become scarce.
Today, the benefits of blondeness may be mostly psychological.
Teen actress and singer Miley Cyrus wowed fans this week by chopping off most of her hair and dying it platinum blonde. Afterwards, she tweeted, “LOVE my hair ? feel so happy, pretty, and free.”
The urge to be blonde may also be driven by deep evolutionary history beginning many millennia ago when light shades first appeared on women’s manes, allowing them to turn the heads of potential mates.
“The more common a hair colour becomes, the less often it is preferred,” Discovery News quoted Frost as saying. “It’s a kind of novelty effect. The moment you become ordinary, you no longer have the same appeal. There’s selection for being a bit different and eye-catching,” he said.
Modern humans evolved in Africa. Even after migrating to Europe about 35,000 years ago, scientists think that all people had black hair.
Then, sometime between 10,000 and 15,000 years ago in northern and eastern Europe, studies suggest, the hair-colour gene MC1R developed variations that produced a diversity of hues, including red, brown and blonde.
Eye colour, which is controlled by several genes, including one called OCA2, diversified at the same time. Some researchers have speculated that lighter hair and eyes helped people better acquire vitamin D in a high-latitude environment.
However, Frost has a different theory.
During the last Ice Age, he proposes, men had to travel longer distances through Arctic tundra to find animals to hunt. That led to higher death rates for men as well as a decreased chance for polygamy because it would have been nearly impossible to support more than one family with such scarcity of food.
As women came to outnumber the supply of monogamous men, they had to become more competitive for male attention.
In evolutionary terms, this produced strong sexual selection for novel hair and eye colours. Women with unusually bright looks were eye-catching and appealing.
Men didn’t experience the same pressure, which might explain why it is still more common for women to be born blonde, and why it takes longer for blonde hair to darken on girls than it does on boys.
Even today, Frost said, the market for blonde hair dye is greater among women in places like Latin America, where naturally light locks are particularly unusual.
In Sweden, where a large proportion of people are blonde, women often darken their hair. Purple, magenta and other unusual hues have also become popular.
In addition to the desire to stand out, going blonde might represent a subconscious attempt to look young and cute. That’s because, along with broad foreheads and little noses, blonde hair is also more common in young children than in adults. (Agencies) |
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Women like Jili Das kindle hope
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Around five years back, two women set out on a journey towards understanding India just a little better. Their forays into the known, and often unknown, parts of the country revealed to them what they eventually thought represented the ‘real’ India. This excerpt from the book, Beautiful Country - Stories From Another India, written by Syeda Hameed and Gunjan Veda, takes readers to a remote district in the Northeastern State of Assam, where amidst a broken down healthcare system, the duo met a committed teacher-cum-anganwadi worker who was determined to speak up for her deprived young students.
Darrang district is seventy km from the state capital. After about an hour’s drive from Mangaldoi on broken country roads, our cars came to a halt in front of the Bajnapathar Community Health Centre. This CHC was five years old, with a thirty-bed capacity. At noon, when we reached, it was empty and locked. As we waited for some staff to turn up we met two brothers, Kushal and Milan Rajbanshi, who lived next door to the CHC.
‘Where is everybody?’ we asked.
‘Didi, the Medical Officer (MO) was transferred six months ago. Since then, this hospital has been khallas (over). The last doctor they gave us was an ayurvaid (Ayurvedic practitioner), who was transferred along with the MO. Three months ago, the nurse, too, was transferred.’
‘What do you do when you fall ill?’
‘Sometimes a nurse didi comes here from Guwahati but most of the time we have to go there. It’s a one-hour journey by boat. Or we go to a pharmacy ten km away. When the doctor comes, he charges a Rs 20 flat fee for injections, fever, cuts, and wounds.’
We turned back to the CHC. Unlike in other places where the CHCs we had seen were little more than a skeletal structures, Bajnapathar had a proper building. But the windows were boarded up and a lock hung on the front door. A windowpane was broken, so Milan thrust his hand in and opened the door. Inside, there were empty beds all around. Some equipment was visible in the piles of trash. We wondered if someone was using the place as a shelter at night. A woman walked up. ‘I am Malati Rajbanshi,’ she said. (The entire village was made up of the Rajbanshi tribe.) She told us that she had never heard of any deliveries taking place at this centre. Deliveries were conducted in the village by family dais (midwives). She had never heard of ASHAs or community health workers, and looked blank when we asked about the Janani Suraksha Yojna.
The Rajbanshi of the village knew nothing about the National Rural Health Mission. We compared this ground reality with the official version given to us at our meetings. Examples like Darrang were considered anecdotal evidence. When questioned by us the officials averred that this was a case of ‘being at the wrong place at the wrong time’! Though we had been witness to too many such anecdotes, we were not able to stitch individual pieces into a compelling argument.
Having sampled the health infrastructure of Darrang, we moved to the village anganwadi centre. It was a small bamboo hut. There was a hand pump outside but we were told that the water was not potable because of its high iron content. A middle-aged woman, Nitimoni Devi, was the supervisor of twenty-eight different anganwadi centres. She said her biggest worry was the lack of rations with which she could feed the children ‘Didi, at Bajnapathar AWC, they have received no food for one whole year, since February 2007. In fact, none of the centres I supervise has received rations since November 2007. It is heartbreaking to see the kids starving, and yet I can do no more than register a complaint at the district level.’
We had seen enough to realize that condition in Assam (among other States) would ensure that we remain far from our own monitorable targets. Standing under the hot March sun, the road to rural health appeared long and arduous; nothing much might happen in the short term of our tenure unless we redoubled our efforts. Just as we were getting into the car with these thoughts, someone blocked our way. A slender, bespectacled young woman was standing in front of our sarkari Ambassador on the dusty road. She was out of breath. ‘Miss Jili Das,’ she said holding out her hand. ‘I heard about your visit and have cycled three km from the Suktaguri Anganwadi No. 1. I had to meet you.’
Jili lived with her father, Binod Das, in the village of Khalikai Gandhiyapathar. She had studied in northern Guwahati, passed the higher secondary exam, and taught in a lower primary school for one year. Then she was appointed as an anganwadi worker and sent here. For one year she had received no food for the children. ‘The village where I work is very poor, and a flood-prone area. Most of the 6,000 people there are migrant Muslims. Parents work as migrant labour and leave the children with me. Families are large as no sterilization can be carried out. People think they will incur Allah’s wrath if they do so. We have only two AWCs. We need at least two more. We need toilets. There are a lot of skin diseases in our area. I have received no de-worming tablets for two years. I go from house to house and meet pregnant women but I have no rations to give them. I can only give them iron tablets which I get from the ANM. Even our village school has not received any food or books this year. It is so hard to watch the kids study on empty stomachs. Please help me.’ The sweat from her forehead made tracks down her face as she looked at us with desperation in her eyes.
‘What about you?’ Do you get your salary?’
She bowed her head. ‘No I haven’t received anything for four months.’
As we looked at this frail-looking girl standing before us, we realized that in her grit and humility there was still hope for this country. She was a living symbol of these lines of the poet Sahir Ludhianvi which were written to honour hope:
Jab ambar jhoom ke naache ga aur dharti naghme gaayegi
Voh subah kabhi toh aayegi
When the sky will break into a dance and the earth into song
That dawn will one day break
(Women’s Feature Service)
Syeda Hameed and Gunjan Veda |
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Why money can't buy happiness
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People who win huge amount of money in lottery would be better of if they gave away most of the cash, according to an expert.
Andrew Oswald, professor of economics at Warwick University, said that winning big jackpots does not instantly lead to happiness.
Oswald has spent years studying what happens to lottery winners after they have banked the money and the news isn’t always good.
He insists that within a year the winners could find themselves actually less happy than they were before the win and feel that their mental health has deteriorated.
“Economists and psychologists have studied this for many decades,” the Daily Express quoted him as saying.
“If you look at people about 12 months after they win they are not happy and no study has ever found they are happier, or have better mental health, and that puzzles.
“People’s lives get disrupted, we know they start drinking and smoking a lot more, some winners think deep down they don’t deserve it and the neighbours start acting differently,” he added.
The professor however, did say that the winners of medium sized win experienced improved happiness and mental health.
“There is some evidence that with a medium sized win, say 40,000 pounds or 50,000, pounds two or three years later you have improved happiness and mental health,” he said.
“We just don’t know about these giant winners, so it’s impossible to say.There is a great deal of research that giving to charity seems to be associated with better mental wellbeing - it may be that you value yourself more after you do that. If someone asked me as a researcher into this, I would advise them to give away most of their money,” he added. (Agencies) |
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