Open Mikes

 We hold open mikes/ khulla manch sessions among communities of women and girls in red light areas and slums. These open mikes/ khulla manchs are story sharing sessions, held with or without a microphone. At an open mike/khulla manch, women and girls relay stories of their courage to support their fellow women and girls in groups. One at a time, women or girls from the group share their own true stories with the whole room. Men and boys sometimes peak up too. Stories are not longer than 3-5 minutes. 

Although this appears to be a simple tool, story-telling is a very effective medium to vent out suffering, it’s a forum of courage to be able to talk about your suffering and it translates into strength and motivation for the other women and children. 

The act affirms the storyteller's confidence and determination to keep taking risks in her life, both personally and politically. The woman or girl steps through her fear of public speaking and seeing that she could survive the experience, encourages a woman to step through her fear again, perhaps in a bigger way for a bigger issue, such as standing up for herself and her rights. Often stories focus on times women boldly stood up for themselves or others. Sometimes the stories focus on women acting courageously in quiet and persistent ways that, in the end, help to bring positive changes to their lives and/or their communities. Women and girls everywhere have these stories from their own life experiences. 
 

The Open Mikes/Khulla Manch are a place where the voices and experiences of women and girls are heard and respected. They develop women and girls' leadership and empower women to continue taking risks in their lives and be invigorated to keep doing social justice, work, both personally and politically. The experience transforms the women and girls who partake in them, but then these women, in turn, transform the larger community around them. They were inspired and started with the help of Bobbi Abusubel and Rivka Solomon, author of That Takes Ovaries (http://thattakesovaries.org).

Here are extracts from some of their stories: 

·        Changing Her Husband

My name is Fatima. I was born in a village called Rani. Rani is in the ward no. 22 in Jogabani. I was married at the age of nine to a man from Rampur panchayat of Forbesganj. I was married into Nutt community because my father belongs to the same community and my mother hails from Dhunia community (Weavers). I was married to that segment of Nutt community where they prostitute their own daughters and daughter-in-laws. But we were unaware of that at the time of my marriage. I was married at an age when I didn’t even have the slightest idea what marriage means. When I went to stay with my in-laws, I was being abused regularly. When I started resisting the tortures increased. They used to beat me regularly. I used to run away to my parents. But my mother-in-law used to come and take me back. My parents also used to tell that I have to live with them as I was married to that man from that community. Then I resolved within the heart of my hearts that even if I go back I will not stop raising my voice against the malpractices of the community. I started living at my in-law’s place when I was ten years old. Now I have four daughters and a son. I decided that I will provide the best possible education to my children and will protect them from the abuses I myself went through. After prolonged struggle, I could change the hearts of my husband who was an alcoholic, gambler and debauch. I gradually moulded him and turned him into the right path. When I came to know about Apne Aap and its missions, I could not help associating with them. That was not an easy task. I got employed by Apne Aap. I had to face abuses, verbal and physical because of my association with Apne Aap. But I stuck to my decision as I by then knew that for the rest of my life I will have to fight against the violence against women from the Nutt community.

Fatima Nat Dhuniya, Rampur, Bihar

·        Winning her daughter

Meena Hasina: I am Meena. I was kidnapped and kept in a brothel at the age of ten. I was made to have a baby soon, For girls trafficked from outside they want her to have a baby as soon as possible so she has “chains” and cannot think of escaping the red-light area. I” never wanted to become a mother myself. Because when I was prostituted I knew that my children if they were born into this red light area they would be another generation of prostitutes and pimps. But then I have lost. My daughter was born in the brothel. I ran away but she was prostituted.

Jamila: No you have won. Because you finally recovered all your four children and they are all in schools. You were brave enough to rescue you your daughter from the brothel. So you are the winner not them

Everyone told Meena that she had won

Rampur Mahila Mandal Open Mike

·         My name is Biwi Maisoon. I was born into Nutt community. Our family was settled in Khawaspur for a long time. My father was an agricultural labourer. We were very poor and used to live in abject poverty and helplessness. My father was becoming old and my grandmother was very sick. My brother was very young then. Pressure was increasing on me and no one from any segment of the society came to our rescue. The same people who used to call us daughter, niece and other endearing names forced me into prostitution. I wanted to study but could not. The girls usually didn’t go to school and how could a Nutt girl go to school? No body came to listen to our ordeals. How I wished at that time that either the Govt. or the society would help us. But none did so. I always dreamt of studying and getting married and having my own family. Because I was a poor the rich in the society always lurked on me and since I was born into Nutt community, being prostituted was the only available option for me. Ultimately it is them who made money on us. The police, criminals and the powerful used to have sex with us, extort us and we had to cater to them day and night.

One day I refused to provide sex. I shut my doors and said I will not be prostituted any more. We had a scuffle and they abducted me and twenty two people raped me, burnt with cigarette butts and finally stabbed me. I was severely abused and beaten as I r3efused to cater to their whims late at night. They abused me in front of the ‘society’, but none came to my rescue. Later I had to pay ten thousand rupees for saving my life. Not only that I had to provide them free sex and alcohol. Later, the people from ‘society’ came and started telling you people encourage criminals. No client comes to you after sunset but you give shelter to the criminals. We became victims of violence from both the sides. But I am determined to not be sold or bought any longer. All I need is police protection.

Biwi Maisoon, Khwaspur, Bihar

·        I have courage

It was in the middle of 2004. Some didi came to our shanty and told us to send our kids to their school. I did not know who they were. At first we refused but after three or four months we started to send our children there. I have six children and five were admitted in A2W2 schools.  Previously I came to this center as a mother of my children. Then I started to attend mothers meetings.

We were desperately poor. My husband used to take alcohol regularly and never gave money for the rest of us. I used to go rag picking from 2.30 a.m. to 5.30 a.m. to keep my children going. I was regularly beaten by my husband as were the other women of my area by their husbands. I think we all think that it is our destiny and we have to face it.

After some months a didi from A2W2 called me and told me that if I liked I could join  A2W2 as a staff member and look after the children at the crèche. It sounded like a dream to me. I joined Topsia A2W2 in 2005.  After coming here I came to know how I can protect myself from any kind of abuse and violence. For the first time I learned many things which help me  survive  with dignity. I stand up to my husband now….the first time I did so he was shocked and left the room.  Now when he drinks, he tries to stay outside the room or comes home only to sleep. I could do all that because I know that the organization is behind me and now I have the inner power to protect myself from any kind of abuse and violence. I also help my fellow women friends who are facing violence from their husband. 

Now my husband often says ‘these didis have given you a lot of courage. ” I laugh on my own and agree that yes, now I  do have the power to protect myself from violence.  

Mumtaz, Topsia, Kolkata  

·        I could be free

One day I had a fight with my stepmother and decided to leave. I was only thirteen. I know this temper of mine is not good. I took a train to Bombay without a ticket and reached VT station. I sat on a bench for a whole day crying when an old man approached me and said he could help me get a job and brought me to Kamatipura.  It was a large house with many small rooms and I saw women wearing shiny clothes and putting on makeup.

I got a strange feeling but it was too late.  I did not cooperate for a very long time and for months I was beaten up as they tried to sell me off from one brothel owner to another.  After more than 10 years I was desperate to quit. I could never get used to it.

Then the women who ran our brothel became old and decided to return to her native village so I was told you are on your own. Suddenly I could be free. Now I am no longer in the profession and I cannot tell you how good I feel about it. 

Zeenat Khatun, Kamtipura, Mumbai

·        The story of a sister and brother

Today I am going to talk about the story of a goddess in front of you. This goddess was born in such a community where most people are involved in commercial sexual exploitation in some way or the other.

In her family she was the eldest. She was unable to see her family about to die in utter poverty and hunger. But then….what could she possibly do other than sacrificing herself in the flesh trade? With her own flesh she fed her family and brought up her siblings. But alas!!! Despite her best efforts she could not save her three sisters from going into prostitution. She also failed to hold back her two brothers from being pimps. But even then her hope did not die. Her last ray of hope was her youngest brother. In order to protect him from this shadow she left the village with him for a town, where she got him into a hostel and she herself stayed at the red light area to send money to her family every month. She never used to visit the hostel out of the fear that her brother might be thrown out of the school and her dream would have remained incomplete. During his vacations she would tell him about the violence she faced everyday and would encourage him to emancipate innumerable such girls who were caged into the net of trafficking like her. She would inspire him to emancipate their community from this evil.

After a few days when she came to know that her father was ill, to look after her ailing father she came back to her village and for this she brought her brother from the hostel to the village school, being unable to pay for the expenses. It can be easily understood she had given up every little fun, each little happiness, each little enjoyment of her life just for her parents and last but not the least for her brother. After the demise of her father solely her brother became the aim of her life and she made it a point to make her brother reach that point by getting education where he could earn enough for some comfort of his sister. He was ready to feel and realize the pangs of his sister and do something to wipe off the tears that she shed. He was there to fight for the rights of all the sisters of his community and to bring back the respect that they deserved from life.

So this is the story of a sister and her brother…Well the sister is my own sister and the brother I have talked about is none other but me!!! With my sister’s inspiration and Apne Aap Women Worldwide’s support I have been able to be courageous enough to stand against the evils of my own community… the Nutt community.”

Md Kalam from Forbesgunge, Bihar shared with a group in Kolkata

·        I doubt religious custom

I was given to Goddess, married to goddess in my  religion, at age of 10 years, which allowed me to go begging in a sanctioned way. Otherwise, it was expected I would be begging and not given as much money or approved of by the community.  (Being given to the priest, who essentially has sex with this young virgin of 10-years old, making it impossible for her to marry and have a normal life.) Begging was difficult, it would be impossible for me to marry in my village. I felt forced, no other choice, but to leave the village. SoI left and went to the city.  There I soon became a prostitute, what else? And I send all my money home to my father & mother because they are so very very poor.

 At one point I wanted to free my sister, so put together 7,000 rupees, a fortune, to hire a car & be driven to free my sister who was in the house of a Christian man with his family.  When I arrived, he beat her up, very badly, so she lay on the ground-- the Christian man did not let me rescue my sister. He won. I  lost all that money and I lost my sister. My sister sacrificed herself to support the family back home.

My brother died, and the goddess did not save my brother. So I wonder about this goddess who has never helped me.  My father gives me appreciation, and has told the family never to bother me.  My father asked me for a gold watch, he wanted a watch not from India, but from abroad. I bought him one. He was so appreciative. (proudly) He said he was bonded to me more than the way the brother bonds with the sister –in my village the brother symbolically ties a string around the sister to loyally bond with and protect the sister! This happens on a particular holiday.  Father said, “See, my daughter gave me on my wrist something much stronger and longer lasting than a string. It will last not 5 days, but a long time.”  I was strongly touched by father’s gratefulness. I feels good that I am connected to the goddess and sacrificed for the goddess.  I am not angry at the religious custom.  But recently I have begun to doubt it.

Kashi Bai, a Devadasi in Bhiwandi, Maharashtra

·         I am a mother to my siblings

These days, you can find the craze for the young girls. Girls at the age of 8 or 9 are of the greatest demand. Old men want to have sex with very young girls. But in our time, the people were still better. I used to run away. [Laughs as she recollects] I was looked after by my elder sister, i.e. my uncle’s daughter. I used to cry out whenever the clients came and my sister taught me how to befool them. I used to ask them money before they start having sex with me and after they paid the money, I used to come out of the room in some pretext or other and then used to hide somewhere. When the clients started shouting, my sister used to arrive at the scene and comfort the clients.

But I could not evade thus for a long time.

My Nath-todani (Breaking the Hymen-this is a ritual mainly observed by the people belonging to communities engaged with intergenerational prostitution. The young virgin girl is sold to the highest bidder in an auction and the buyer has the privilege to break the hymen of the virgin and thus the young girl is initiated into prostitution) took place when I was 11, just after I had my puberty.

I think it took great courage on my part to stick to this profession while in my youth I was approached by many suitors to marry and settle. But I did not settle because I had 10 mouths to feed.

{Cries again} I still recall the day. I was 18. My mother, I and my younger brother were coming from my native village to Forbesganj. He (brother) was small. Naturally he was walking behind. I was young and naïve then. So I shouted at him. Later, my brother told my mother that sister should not have scolded me like that in public. If she ever does that again, I will kill myself. When my mother told me about this, I started crying and understood that I am like mother to my siblings. From that day, I never thought about myself and only tried to become a mother to them.

Ruksar, Khwaspur, Bihar

·        They left, I won

At 18 I had a child. Then my husband left, I worked as a house servant, given only food and old clothes. My mother in law kicked me out with the child.  (sadly) I had to put the child in an orphanage. I never saw her again.

Before I went on the line, I came to the red light district alone. I had seen the red light area with girls in the neighborhood, street sex with taxi drivers, tea garden. (she laughs and acts out her images as a young woman, shes a zesty story teller). Another person wanted to marry me. Not ready to get married again. My first marriage was so bad I worked with a family household work with their dirty laundry, given bad food. I learned from that time. Then, I had to join a brothel. What ever I earned, all given to owner. A street sweeper told me not give all the dollars to owner. I was surprised at what he taught me. I was so innocent.  But I began to do that. To keep some of the money for myself. Life was very hard. Sometimes I had to sell my blood to earn money. Twice I did that.

One time the police, a group of them, maybe 9,  wanted to have sex without paying me. I beat them out with a broom. I fought them off. They left. I won.

Asma, Kidderpre, Kolkata

·        I found the courage to run away

Girls in red light areas suffer from extremely poor health. Fever, headache and body ache are very common and recurrent problems. Even when they are too ill to work, the Madam [the woman who runs the brothel] ask them to take medicines and go about their business.

We aren’t forced to take medicines but they are severely abused if we fall ill. The older inmates had the freedom to go out and get their own medicines, but the new ones did not. Everything depended on the Madam. Sometimes, one’s vagina would ache terribly from taking clients all day – but even then the Madam forced you to work There was no such treatment for sore vaginas, we would soak a piece of cloth in warm water and apply it on the sore spot...

As for other medicines, if a customer refused to use condoms, the girl took Mala D. The Madam or the manager of the brothel gave us the pills. we took a pill each time a customer refused to use a condom (right before having sex).

I knew a girl who became pregnant and wanted to keep the baby. But the Madam said, ‘You are so beautiful, you must go on working’ When a girl didn’t have the money, the Madam would pay – but she later deducted the sum from the girl’s earnings. We’ve seen five-year-olds being sold and raised by the Madam to be inducted into the trade after puberty Some took pills to kill the fetus. Some went to private clinics (outside the red light area) and got an abortion.

The manager would accompany us and sign as guardian. The good-looking girls used to have favourite clients (babus) who went with them and signed for them. Those who were ugly had to go on their own. Then the doctor would know who they were – sometimes they themselves would admit they were prostitutes – and the doctor would behave badly with them.

Then the girls would be stuffed with medicines to stop the flow of blood so that they could get back to work as soon as possible. That’s why they often had problems with their periods.

They didn’t take you to the hospital in such cases, because it would cost money. They would take you to a local doctor. Girls would have to take clients even when they caught an infection after the abortion. Verbal abuses would be heaped on them and they would be constantly reminded that they better do good business since a lot of money had been spent on them.

Sometimes they were allowed to keep the baby because the Madam (or manager) was greedy for a daughter. If one gave birth to a daughter, she would be urged to get pregnant again! If there was a son, there would be mourning. But only older girls had the choice to keep their baby – so that they would grow up to be second-generation prostitutes.

When the mother is herself thin and undernourished, the baby will be so too. The girls didn’t have much to eat. Sometimes the older girls would take pity and give the pregnant girl five or six rupees so that she could buy something to eat. There was no time to breastfeed the child, she would be fed from the bottle. The child could be breastfed only once, after all the customers had left for the day. The rest of the mother’s milk would be wasted.

We suffer Itches and rashes, sores, vaginal infections, malaria. Malaria is more common in Calcutta where we have to stand on the streets the whole night. In Mumbai and Delhi, the girls sit in a big hall and watch TV – customers come and choose the girl they want. In Calcutta, the girls stand on the streets.The customers beat the girls and even slashed them with blades.

I found the courage to run away from TV. We used to watch TV at night. The customers bring blue film cassettes. The Madams force the girls to watch TV between 3 p.m. and 6 a.m. so that they can ward off sleep while waiting for customers. The older girls go out on the streets while the new ones remain inside.

Ruby, Gutiary Sharief, West Bengal