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.
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