Iwas sitting on a plastic chair in a village with a group of survivors of the Indian Ocean Tsunami, marking one year since it had occurred. We were surrounded by newly constructed houses—small square, empty buildings made from cement–not quite ready for occupancy. A grandmother was sharing her story of surviving the enormous wave of water that hit the southeast coast of India in 2004. It decimated buildings and swept away thousands of people. In this region alone, approximately 11,000 people lost their lives. Most of them were women and children. “I held onto a tree and the wave came and washed away my sari,” she said. “A man wanted to help me, but I was naked and felt ashamed.” As she continued her story, I noticed another woman standing behind her. She was watching us and listening intently.

After the grandmother finished her story, the woman approached me and asked, “Do you have a child that I could adopt?” I sat speechless, puzzled by what she meant, wondering if she was asking if she could adopt a child from the United States. I invited her to sit down and tell me more. “My husband and I had four children. The oldest child was 9 and the others were 7, 5, and 3. Since it was a Sunday, the children were not in school. They were playing on the seashore. They are always together—wherever they are going, they are going together, playing together. All of them, including the youngest, were with my mother-in-law that day. They were all washed away. After they died, I did not see their bodies. I was immobile and lost my appetite. Now I’m slowly regaining my appetite and going out. My husband and I have tried to have a baby, but I am sterile. So, my husband could leave me for another woman.” She hesitated as if trying to convince herself, “But he lets me be angry. He won’t leave me.” I sat with this woman’s sorrow, feeling helpless and powerless to be of any assistance to her.

It was hard to fathom the depth of her grief and her cultural reality of dealing not only with that grief but whether her husband would leave her. Another woman could give him children and replace the family that was lost. The consequences for an abandoned woman in India are devastating. When a woman loses her husband by death or abandonment, the woman becomes socially ostracized and deprived of many rights—to property, dress, economic resources, leadership, and a sustainable livelihood. As a matter of fact, during the weeks after the Tsunami, the Indian government excluded abandoned/widowed women (even those with children) from receiving economic relief since women were not recognized as heads of households. In contrast, the government gave money to men who lost their wives but had children who survived. The non-governmental organization Kalangarai was established within days of the Tsunami to respond to the needs of the most vulnerable survivors—the widows being one of the groups.

Two years later, I returned to India to conduct a study on the self-help groups for widows and abandoned women that Kalangarai helped to establish. I was in a village when one of the staff told me that a woman wanted to see me. A woman who was smiling and holding a baby in her arms approached me. I didn’t recognize her at first, but coincidentally she was the same woman who had told me about losing her four children. When I asked her about the baby she now held, she replied, “I bought the baby from a young woman in a nearby village. The mother could not afford to take care of him. My husband and I are happy now.” Somehow, I realized, she had found a way to move through that enormous pain.

Over the past 20 years, I have listened to many stories about loss, hope, and resilience from the women participating in Kalangarai’s programs. Most of them needed additional supports when they lost their husbands. I have learned that resilience requires a community of compassionate people who will stand with us through our darkest hours. Friends of Kalangarai, recently produced a documentary, Women of Truth and Courage: The Widows of Kalangarai. It provides insight into how this transformation occurred for 2,500 women who have participated in self-help groups and a widows’ movement. A trailer of the film is on our website homepage. If you are interested in showing the documentary at a venue in your community, please contact me.

Thank you for your support,
Karen Kayser
President & Founder
Friends of Kalangarai
info@kalangarai-india.org