"We may be poor, but we are so many. Why don't we start a bank of our own ? Our own women's bank, where we are treated with the respect and service that we deserve."
- Chandaben, old clothes seller,
Founder - member, SEWA Bank
"How many times do we need to prove that poor women are bankable?"
- Jayshree Vyas, M.D., SEWA Bank
"Parivartan"
Introduction
Similarly, SEWA Bank and the SEWA union have entered into a partnership with the Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation to attend to the problem of housing for the poor because the house is also a work place for many informal sector workers. The “Parivartan” housing program is designed to upgrade the slums in the city. Slums located on municipal land are first identified; the SEWA mobilizes the women slum dwellers to form a residents' association. Every household deposits 2,100 rupees with the municipal corporation, which entitles them to a toilet, a sewage system, water supply, and electricity in their new pucca house. The women may borrow the amount from SEWA Bank if they are unable to pay with savings. The title to the house is issued in the SEWA member's name, and it is entered into the official municipal record. Local SEWA leaders play a significant role in making this happen. Once the project is completed, the neighborhood tends to acquire a more respectable name – such and such colony or so and so Nagar. However, working in collaboration with outside agencies, especially a government of any sort, is not without problems.
The municipality is quick in collecting funds, but slow to start the building process. Meanwhile, the women are impatient – they are paying interest on a loan that has yet to see any results. They feel frustrated and turn to the Bank for help, even though the Bank has no control over the government and other power structures. The overlap in the roles of SEWA and SEWA Bank also causes some confusion at times. By intervening on behalf of the women in dealing with the government, the municipality, or with insurance companies, the Bank often bears the brunt of the women's frustration. When, for example, an insurance company makes a low assessment of the damage to a riot victim's house, she is devastated. While the insurance company takes a limited view of what constitutes damage and how it occurred, for the woman, the loss continues to haunt her for years after the incident. Rebuilding a life, regaining trust, and recovering one's livelihood against overwhelming odds is a daunting task; while the Bank can play a crucial supportive role in recovery, it can by no means solve all problems. The client's needs are greater than what an economic entity like a bank can provide. Yet the women see the Bank as “our bank,” a provider, a sort of “mother” that provides shelter, is caring, understanding, forgiving, trusting, and “all-powerful.” While admittedly SEWA Bank has tried to “mother” its clients, that is not its mission. Its mission is to empower the women themselves. For a formal financial body, serving clients who have grown in the traditional, non-formal culture of unwritten mutual trust, this is a challenge.
