Starting trouble: Ranjana Sadashiv Sonawane and her family with their UID cards
Photo: Amey Mansabdar
Four months after the Aadhaar launch, the villagers of Tembhali don’t know what to do with their cards
By Sharmista Chaudhury
On September 29 last year, all eyes were on Tembhali, a tribal village in Maharashtra. The Union government’s unique identification (UID) number project, Aadhaar, was launched from here. Prime Minister Manmohan Singh and Congress president Sonia Gandhi visited the village for the inauguration. As preparations were made for their visit, the village got a new road and a post box.
People who had left the village and moved to Gujarat returned to receive their Aadhaar cards. The smell of freshly painted village square beckoned them to a brighter future. Aadhaar, a project the government termed as the “number for life”, promised a dignified life to the poor in the country.
Four months later, Tembhali resembles an abandoned film set. Every house sports the Aadhaar logo; after all it stands for a progressive India. But this progress is purely a cosmetic one. The road built for the UID inaugural is the only one in the village. Work stopped once the programme got over. Soon, the construction workers and the government officials left. So did most of the villagers, with or without their Aadhaar cards.
Ranjana Sadashiv Sonawane and her son Hitesh were the first to receive the UID cards. Ranjana, a staunch Congress supporter, is happy that Tembhali was chosen to initiate the project that is meant to help people like her get things done quickly without any hassles, be it applying for a loan or for using facilities offered by government schemes.
But Ranjana is not sure what use she or the other villagers will have for the card. Almost 75 per cent of Tembhali’s population works in Gujarat as farmhands, earning Rs:150 a day, which is almost three times the money they would earn in Maharashtra.
Ranjana and her family didn’t go back to Gujarat this time. They stayed back to take care of their elders and earn Rs:50 a day working on the farms. So, what use does Ranjana have for her UID card? “Nothing,” she says. “ I tried using it to get medical compensation but they said it could not be used.” Rajana doesn’t know that for getting medical compensation she would need a mediclaim card.
“I just want a proper house, a bright future for my children and work in my own village,” she says. An identity card is of no use to her, neither are the special schemes of the government. The card just lies in her suitcase while she struggles to feed her children. A village woman jokes that she has stowed away the card to make sure the rats don’t eat it.
Was Tembhali the right choice to pilot the UID project? For the village, the card distribution was a mere spectacle. The only good thing that came out of the event was the road.
Pratibha Shinde, an activist, says the whole process was a mockery of the system. “It is another example of lack of foresight on the part of the government,” she says. “People here do not have electricity, their ration has not been regularised and the machines on the farms don’t work. What do they care about the ID cards. They do not travel by rail or air and they do not have bank transactions to make.”
No one in Tembhali knows how the card will benefit them. Says Vannibai Phulsingh Thakre, whose house caved in three years ago during the rains: “I do not need a card, I just need a house.” The village sarpanch, Chhabadibai Sonawane, who lives in a kuchha [made of mud] house, has no solutions to offer. She is not aware of the state government’s tribal welfare projects for her village. “I have been in power for the last 15 months but have not done any work,” she confesses. She is yet to receive any instructions or help from the government.
Tehsildar Pratapsingh Rajput, however, promises that everything will be in place by March. The banks will get the necessary equipment and then the people will be able to use their cards to open accounts and do other transactions. Ask him about the pending houses and other developmental work in the village, and he says the departments are taking care of it.
A team from the UID project’s technology centre in Bangalore has begun preliminary work on the cards for six more villages in the Nandurbar district. Trikora, a village more prosperous than Tembhali, is one of them.
Sarpanch Parasram Bapu Bhil has managed to build 25 houses in the village that has 1,000 tribal families. “Until last year we used to get Rs:28,000 to build a house, this year we received Rs:75,000,” says Parasram. Roads have been built and the Gujjar farmers make almost Rs:35,000 per acre a year. They do not know what to expect from the UID cards. They hope this one, unlike the other cards given by the government, won’t lie waste in their suitcases.
By Sharmista Chaudhury
On September 29 last year, all eyes were on Tembhali, a tribal village in Maharashtra. The Union government’s unique identification (UID) number project, Aadhaar, was launched from here. Prime Minister Manmohan Singh and Congress president Sonia Gandhi visited the village for the inauguration. As preparations were made for their visit, the village got a new road and a post box.
People who had left the village and moved to Gujarat returned to receive their Aadhaar cards. The smell of freshly painted village square beckoned them to a brighter future. Aadhaar, a project the government termed as the “number for life”, promised a dignified life to the poor in the country.
Four months later, Tembhali resembles an abandoned film set. Every house sports the Aadhaar logo; after all it stands for a progressive India. But this progress is purely a cosmetic one. The road built for the UID inaugural is the only one in the village. Work stopped once the programme got over. Soon, the construction workers and the government officials left. So did most of the villagers, with or without their Aadhaar cards.
Ranjana Sadashiv Sonawane and her son Hitesh were the first to receive the UID cards. Ranjana, a staunch Congress supporter, is happy that Tembhali was chosen to initiate the project that is meant to help people like her get things done quickly without any hassles, be it applying for a loan or for using facilities offered by government schemes.
But Ranjana is not sure what use she or the other villagers will have for the card. Almost 75 per cent of Tembhali’s population works in Gujarat as farmhands, earning Rs:150 a day, which is almost three times the money they would earn in Maharashtra.
Ranjana and her family didn’t go back to Gujarat this time. They stayed back to take care of their elders and earn Rs:50 a day working on the farms. So, what use does Ranjana have for her UID card? “Nothing,” she says. “ I tried using it to get medical compensation but they said it could not be used.” Rajana doesn’t know that for getting medical compensation she would need a mediclaim card.
“I just want a proper house, a bright future for my children and work in my own village,” she says. An identity card is of no use to her, neither are the special schemes of the government. The card just lies in her suitcase while she struggles to feed her children. A village woman jokes that she has stowed away the card to make sure the rats don’t eat it.
Was Tembhali the right choice to pilot the UID project? For the village, the card distribution was a mere spectacle. The only good thing that came out of the event was the road.
Pratibha Shinde, an activist, says the whole process was a mockery of the system. “It is another example of lack of foresight on the part of the government,” she says. “People here do not have electricity, their ration has not been regularised and the machines on the farms don’t work. What do they care about the ID cards. They do not travel by rail or air and they do not have bank transactions to make.”
No one in Tembhali knows how the card will benefit them. Says Vannibai Phulsingh Thakre, whose house caved in three years ago during the rains: “I do not need a card, I just need a house.” The village sarpanch, Chhabadibai Sonawane, who lives in a kuchha [made of mud] house, has no solutions to offer. She is not aware of the state government’s tribal welfare projects for her village. “I have been in power for the last 15 months but have not done any work,” she confesses. She is yet to receive any instructions or help from the government.
Tehsildar Pratapsingh Rajput, however, promises that everything will be in place by March. The banks will get the necessary equipment and then the people will be able to use their cards to open accounts and do other transactions. Ask him about the pending houses and other developmental work in the village, and he says the departments are taking care of it.
A team from the UID project’s technology centre in Bangalore has begun preliminary work on the cards for six more villages in the Nandurbar district. Trikora, a village more prosperous than Tembhali, is one of them.
Sarpanch Parasram Bapu Bhil has managed to build 25 houses in the village that has 1,000 tribal families. “Until last year we used to get Rs:28,000 to build a house, this year we received Rs:75,000,” says Parasram. Roads have been built and the Gujjar farmers make almost Rs:35,000 per acre a year. They do not know what to expect from the UID cards. They hope this one, unlike the other cards given by the government, won’t lie waste in their suitcases.
