“The first step is to measure whatever can be easily measured. This is fairly alright. The second step is to disregard that which can't be measured or give it an arbitrary quantitative value. This is artificial and misleading. The third step is to presume that what cannot be measured easily isn't very important. That is ignorance. The fourth step is to say that what cannot be easily measured really doesn't exist. That is alarming.''
This was cited by one of my professors in a ‘public policy' class, and a fifty-year-old woman in a tribal village in Vizianagaram district recently reminded me of this quote.
As part of my job, I was there to make sure that the NREGA staff at the field level were creating awareness regarding the right to work. Then, I came across a woman carrying a child in her arms whispering something, and trying to say it to me before the villagers stopped her. When she tried to speak again, another villager who was an NREGA staff interrupted her, and all I could hear was “Sirrruu!” Having finished my work, I started for the next village. But the old woman's expression, of trying to convey something, hit me hard and so I decided to return to that village.
A SORRY TALE
I took the local staff as an escort and reached the old woman's place. She lived in a small hut with a wooden roof, mostly of bamboo and local wood. I saw an old man, approximately 65 years old, who was crippled, lying in a corner. I could hardly notice any furniture or clothes, except for some utensils, and a couple of rugs on the floor. On enquiring, the old woman said that her husband was crippled. She had a son who was married five years ago. She lost her son when he consumed illicit liquor. The old woman had two grandchildren, both girls. The younger granddaughter expired three months after the loss of her son. Due to unavailability of timely medical assistance and the existence of unhygienic conditions, a viral fever took away the life of the younger granddaughter. The old woman and her daughter-in-law are the only earning members of the family.Both the women are uneducated and have no great exposure to life outside the village.
MINIMUM SALARY
The women have registered with the NREGA staff, and have been availing the minimum wages and guaranteed work for the last two years. The old woman said that she didn't want to be a part of NREGA works and would work in agriculture fields as a daily labourer. And her reason was that the basic wage component wouldn't be sufficient to meet the family's needs. I was puzzled at this and asked the old woman why she felt so. The old woman replied that if a person in a rural area needs just Rs 26 a day to be out of poverty, the government would soon bring down the basic wage component to that level in NREGA, and that wouldn't really help her and her family.
I was just speechless. I was in a real fix and didn't know how to react. I told the old woman to join NREGA works and assured her that the basic wage level wouldn't come down. Even though the old lady had her own doubts, all she said to me in the end was, “Sir, You work for the government. Kindly tell them that Rs 26 today (the rural poverty line fixed by the Planning Commission) isn't even fetching a cereal for my granddaughter. We don't want sympathy, we don't need comforts. I want my family to have a square meal every day. Just understand our lives and the way we live. Sir, please don't take my name. Pardon me if I have spoken something wrong.”. I still believe that the Planning Commission is an important wing and provides a much-needed impetus for India's progress. But, for the moment, I believe in the quote cited by my professor. I don't have a choice.
(The writer is a pass out from IRMA. He serves as special nominee on Board of Studies, Hyderabad Business School.)