Sister Nancy: the courage of dignity

SHE IS 78 YEARS OLD and has the charisma of one of the world’s greatest leaders. She is an Indian woman from Kerala. She has always lived close to the poor, the marginated, the ‘untouchables’: the lowest sector of a society divided into castes... women and men living like outcasts, in the run-down and unhealthy areas of town called the slums. There is no hope of redemption in the Hindu culture which has condemned them from birth.

Her name is Nancy Pereira, she is a Salesian sister, who travels every day around the various shanty towns of India, fighting the hardest battle: against hunger and resignation. In nearly nine years, she has saved 3000 families from moral and material impoverishment in one slum and ten villages on the outskirts of Bangalore, in the south of India. She has brought love, politeness, education and work, thanks to a project called Fides, (Family Integral Development Education Scheme), of which she is the creator. She has incurred the wrath of money lenders, fought against the hidden threats of those who attacked her Catholic robes, and overcome the diffidence of those who didn’t understand her behaviour, always deeply believing in her mission to awaken the courage of dignity among the untouchables.

Hunger in the slums

The untouchables in India aren’t just poor, they are people without rights: once hired to clean toilets and exiled from the temples, today they are employed in the most humble jobs, underpaid and incredibly exploited. They live like animals in large shanty towns: huge black stains on the landscape which go on for miles. The dwellings are manufactured from whatever they chance upon: cardboard, tin sheets, plastic bags, one next to the other, three metres by two, without a bathroom, no running water or electricity. Large families ‘live’ inside these collapsing, makeshift huts.

The drains are open and emit strong odours, flowing past the indifferent children who play seated on the bare ground.

The child mortality rate is high, food is scarce and contaminated, epidemics are devastating and uncontrollable: cholera, typhoid and hepatitis are commonplace. Yet all this appears perfectly normal in a country which already has more than 1 billion inhabitants and looks towards the West as a reference point. The hope of reincarnation as rebirth in a better existence consoles, but also enslaves, enchaining thousands of people who fight a constant battle between the desire to improve their lives, and to obey a ‘superior law’ which has assigned them to being ‘untouchables’.

Sister Nancy, as an Indian woman understands how deeply rooted this belief is, but she doesn’t resign herself to what she considers just one of the fruits of ignorance.

Her defiance of death began with this conviction one summer nine years ago when she arrived in Bangalore. There are more than 400 slums in the city, all of them in desperate conditions, but the slum of Ulsoore is the only one which does not receive assistance by the government or by any humanitarian organisations. It is situated 24 km away from the Salesian Mission in Virgonagar, south of the city. When I arrived in the slum, there was an atmosphere of terror and violence, Sister Nancy recalls, even the social workers were afraid to enter Ulsoore. There were frequent homicides and the population was left to its own means: they had nothing to eat, lived in absolute poverty, and didn’t receive any aid from anyone.

It took months before she was accepted, but in the meantime she never became discouraged: she walked around the slum smiling, loving everyone she met with simple gestures and the humility of someone who deeply believes in the value of life. Slowly something began to change. The women opened up, they came closer and miraculously broke the wall of distrust before the annoyed eyes of the men. Sister Nancy opened the way towards change with a census of all the children born, and those expected, with a systematic registration of the families, their needs, and their state of poverty. On average, two babies a month die of malnutrition. A loss of weight in a child is the first step on the road to death; Sister Nancy removes this obstacle by distributing food at discounted prices: a plate of rice mixed with chicken and vegetables can save the people from starvation, which does not spare anyone.

As a woman, she speaks to the women and expects great things from them, but she hasn’t forgotten the importance of involving the men too, in a project which embraces the family in its entirety.

The majority of them dull their senses with alcoholic beverages obtained through the fermentation of leftovers of all kinds. When drunk they beat their wives and children whose hopes of eating quickly vanish. Intervention is essential in order to save the hope of a better life, without allowing it to be thrown away like discarded bottles of alcohol. This is why, with the co-operation of reformed alcoholics, an ‘alcoholics anonymous centre’ was opened. It is the pride of the slum of Ulsoore and is a reference point for other centres in Bangalore.

If you have a problem, there is always someone who has ten more than you says Babu, 38 years old, who spent twenty years of his life in bars getting drunk. He has tried every type of alcohol and drug, then he met Sister Nancy and his destiny changed. He now goes in search of his former drinking companions, takes them to the centre and follows their progress until they are cured.

The Fides project

Over the first two years, from 1993 to 1995, Sister Nancy tried to raise the cultural and social level of the slum’s population. She knows that a community can emancipate itself thanks to a solid education and work. The women began to realise the importance of sending children to school. Thanks to the distance adoption programme, children can study without affecting the family budget. There are currently more than 7,000 adopted children; $150 a year covers the cost of board, books and note books. Any money leftover is used for the emergency medical aid of children who haven’t been adopted.

There is great solidarity among the women; they are the pillars of the family. Often pushed towards marrying young, they are unable to completely develop as individuals. They are passed from the jurisdiction of their father to that of their husband. More often than not, the women are not even allowed to choose their own husband. In India, arranged marriages are reality and love is a dream kept to oneself. It is necessary to furnish these women with the tools to act in a society which defines them from birth as paraya dhan, the property of others, and support them on the long path to emancipation.

Sister Nancy had an idea; aid wasn’t enough, the formula for success was education. Sister Nancy recalls we approached women because it is not easy to establish contact with men. We formed self-sufficient groups of 15 to 20 women. Now we have close to 90 groups of women. Our first commitment was to give them education in nutrition; health; hygiene; and prenatal, pregnancy and birth care.

Seated on the floor, they examine family and slum problems, they encourage one another to overcome the wall of fear and pride. They give one another advice, they help one another and they are determined to leave their condition as secluded and ignorant members of society behind them.

In self-help groups composed of roughly 15 women, usually linked through ties of friendship or family, they learn how to save. Each little group has a booklet and a small fund of money collected thanks to the handing over of some money (at times just a few rupees) at the end of each meeting. The poorest explain their situation and receive a small loan, following the mutual consensus of all members of the group.

Banks charge very high interest rates and the people who are already poor, are not in a position to earn and save at the same time. Sister Nancy kills this at the root and ensures that the hopes of the poor can materialise thanks to the ‘Bank for the Poor’. Money is loaned to the families at only 1% interest. After a training period, the families are able to set up family mini-companies, which allow them to earn their living and save money so as to improve their social and economic position. They take part in projects such as the rearing of pigs, rabbits, fish, cultivation of gardens, making bricks etc. These projects are called ‘Income Generation Projects’. Fides doesn’t just give money, it also examines each project’s worth and follows its achievement over time. This method encourages personal initiative and offers the poor the means of redeeming themselves from poverty and misery. Thus, the slum’s alleys are animated by various entrepreneurial initiatives: there are people who cook, iron, wash, sell vegetables and prepare fast food by the side of the road.

Sathavaty, with the credit she received, was able to buy a sewing machine. She smiles enthusiastically and shows us the shirts which she manufactures for executives of the Philips Corporation. She has two small children and her husband’s job is temporary. Before meeting Sister Nancy, her family was barely able to make ends meet. Their wages were just enough to buy rice, barely substantial for two meals a day. Now, with her job, she is able to contribute towards maintaining her family. The loan has changed her life forever.

The hopes of Swarse, a widow, have also been fulfilled thanks to this credit system. She has opened a grocery store in the slum. Her children, thanks to the distance adoption scheme, go to school. At night time, she learns to read and write by candlelight.

The ‘Bank for the Poor’ was born thanks to a fund of 350,000 rupees (approximately $7000) donated by the Dutch Caritas. In just six months, chosen randomly in the nine years of Sister Nancy’s activity, 788 families have improved their health, there hasn’t been one incidence of child mortality, 140 pregnant women and 208 children under three years of age have received supplementary rations of cereals and 1,215 women have vaccinated their children.

Basha

There is still much to do. An orphanage needs to be built to house abandoned children and orphans such as Basha, the dark-eyed guardian angel of the slum of Ulsoore, who at two and a half years old, is still unable to walk.

His mother died unexpectedly a year ago. His father, a long way from his place of origin and without parents or relatives, didn’t know to whom he could entrust his son. He became involved with a woman who wished to heal his pain, but not that of Basha, who was left by himself once they decided to go away together, leaving the slum and Basha behind.

One morning, the neighbours realised that nobody lived in the hut any more, but when they opened the door, they found little Basha, who had been lying down for days on a straw mat. He didn’t cry nor smile, just patiently waited for his daddy.

He was welcomed by the Mission. He had to be looked after as he had lost weight and had to be fed. The sisters cared for him, sang him nursery rhymes and held him in their arms. Slowly, Basha began to recover. He is a smiling child again. The people of the slum all agree that he will be raised by everybody. So, these days, Basha has lots of houses, brothers and sisters and mothers, but he dreams of a ‘family’ like the one Sister Nancy wishes to create within the mission with the construction of the orphanage.

Sister Nancy, the volunteers and collaborators of the Fides project have a great dream: that every slum in India will be seen as a gathering of people who have the right to open their minds and hearts to life, and this is possible thanks to those who, like them, have the courage to defend the poor.v