THE PROMISED LAND

Generations of rural women have been refused a well-deserved seat at the decision-making table. Now, through upskilling and technological know-how, their daughters are taking their place at its head.

- SURABHI YADAV and APARNA VARMA

In Katrasin, a village in Bihar, a group of five-year-old boys is upset. They have been denied a haircut since birth. One person is to blame: their cousin, Phula Kumari. As per village tradition, boys are allowed their first haircut only when a wedding takes place in the family. Phula, the eldest daughter, should have been married at 15, as is the norm in Katrasin, but even at 22, she has no such intention. She is too busy building her career as a curriculum developer, curating and delivering miniMBA sessions to empower other rural women like her to build careers of their own in the modern world.

The 22-year-old's success as the highest earner in Katrasin has disrupted the village's traditional social order. While some parents are now rushing to marry off their daughters by 13 or 14, fearing Phula's influence, it may already be too late to prevent change. Young girls are increasingly dreaming of owning laptops, travelling outside their villages and pursuing careers, just like Phula. Didi. After finishing school, Sonmanti, Phula's younger sibling, insisted on enrolling at Sajhe Sapne, the same nonprofit that offered her sister MBA training. Today, she too earns a steady income as a teacher at Har Hath Kalam, a reputed organisation that works with slum kids in Patiala, Punjab.

Research from Western countries suggests that women earning more than men can negatively impact relationships within the family, especially between spouses. Phula and Sonmanti's stories offer a new hypothesis grounded in social change: when daughters earn more than their fathers, how does it affect the breadwinner-dependant dynamic?