The Plight of 'Naraini' - Women of the Girmit Era

Young, gentle and in bondage This innocent bird flew towards the promised land Her frame petite yet powerful Her eggs beautifully nested when transported from Calcutta The sight of the new turf welcoming A dream of hope and fair go brewing deep within Day and night she laboured for payments equating to peanuts The breadth of whips ploughed her like a bull in the harsh fields of Nadi Her eggs now fertile A pretentious malnourished glow adorning her face No snug mattress at night No baby shower The scorching sun and the liberal rain Her only companions to clad her in celebration Cooked, then drenched, then burnt… She finally delivers a dead bundle of tears Her tragedy apparently not so sensational Urging her overseer to order her back to the fields in four days The memories of the dead child Not at all dead in her head Cold and depressed she refuses to present herself Maternity leave a term alien on the ‘girmit’ fields Gathering courage from ‘Durga’, she dares to speak of rights Perhaps the very last time she spoke The overseer, insulted and beats her near death Lying in the fields with broken limbs and essence Her veil the only bandage To cover her wounds.