Water crisis is a burden many women in J&K have inherited and will in all likelihood pass on the tough legacy to the subsequent generation. The only difference would be the increasing distances, and the terrible fallouts thereof
In the scorching heat of the vast expanse that is the Rann of Kutch, a woman, straining with the weight of her unborn child, walks in a daze beside her husband. He is a water diviner, but in his heart, he knows that his desperate search for water is hopeless. She calls out to him faintly and collapses in a heap on the sand. This is what the movie Jal, released in April is about.
The movie was a sobering reality check for many, particularly those who take piped water available 24x7 for granted. They take comfort in the fervent hope that such a situation may not arise for them, in their life-time. But they may well be proved wrong. Ask 24-year-old Rubiya Kausar, hailing from a remote village Ari in Mendhar tehsil of Poonch, and she is likely to assert that the situations in the movie predicting the future of water crisis in our country is not far from becoming a reality soon. She has lived with the reality of water being unavailable for the last 15 years, despite the fact that Jammu & Kashmir is blessed with enormous water resources.
Rubiya got married in 2007 and getting water for the household chores was among the first few responsibilities given to her soon after she arrived at the village. The water is available at a walking distance of 20 minutes from her house — not a simple trek. A downward lane carved out from the gaps between the fields and the houses, with big river stones scattered in a zigzag manner holding together the slippery soil and providing space for a foothold is the only way to the chashma (natural spring) that provides drinking water to over 15-20 houses in this village.
It was a usual day in 2009 when Rubiya left the house with a bucket and a vessel to get water. She was four months pregnant. “On the way back, I lost my balance and fell. I started screaming in extreme pain and was taken to the hospital in Mendhar where doctors confirmed that I had lost my child”, shared Rubiya tonelessly. She suffered another miscarriage in the year 2012. Now pregnant for the fourth time, she continues with the daily trek as always. There simply is no choice.
Rubiya’s story of despair is familiar to almost every woman in that village and for that matter with most women in that border area. Many hail from families living below the poverty line and lack basic facilities like proper accommodation, health, drinking water and education. “Who will fetch water for us if we don’tIJ Men in the family have the task of bringing back enough earnings to meet the day’s requirement. The task of meeting the water needs of the family is left to the women and children. Our vessels fall off our head, we ourselves fall several times, and many of us have suffered a miscarriage at least once. But that doesn’t change our daily routine of fetching water”, rues Naeda Akhter, another 28-year-old from the same village, adding that even after delivery, they rest for barely 10-15 days before resuming the household chores. There are no holidays.
The impact on their physical and reproductive health is palpable. According to a report published by World Health Organization on Gender, Climate Change and Health, at least 30 per cent of a woman’s daily energy intake is spent fetching water during the dry season in rural India. Carrying heavy loads over long periods of time has a chronic impact on the health of these people.
Physical ailments are visible and discussed freely. What is kept under wraps, though, is the impact on the reproductive health of the women. The conservative social customs and cultural traditions simply don’t allow the topic to be brought up.
lifting heavy weights during pregnancy can lead to several complications which effect women’s health not only during pregnancy but many a times after the birth of the child as well.
Water crisis is a burden these women have inherited from their elders and will in all likelihood pass on the tough legacy to the subsequent generation. The only difference would be the increasing distances; and the fallouts thereof. In its State Action Plan on Climate Change, the Jammu & Kashmir Government has mentioned that the snowfall patterns in the Western Himalayan range has indicated a decrease in total seasonal snowfall of 280cm from 1988 to 2008. The snowfall has decreased by 280cm over the Pir Panjal range inhabiting the Poonch district.
The State has clearly mentioned the impact that climate change can have on the health of the people and suggests that adaptation and mitigation strategies on response to climate change may include strengthening good governance of health systems, surveillance and control of communicable diseases, securing availability of fresh and safe drinking water and enhancing the capacity of institutions and health centres to address climate-related health challenges.
On the ground, though, people facing the threats of climate change are oblivious to it. Women facing serious health challenges are unaware of the cause that has, and will in the future, become the basis of most development issues in their life.
(The writer is a development journalist based in Delhi. This article is part of the writer’s work under a national media fellowship awarded by the National Foundation of India)