<p>In May 2014, a reconciliation meeting at the Additional Labour Commissioner’s (ALC) office in Davangere marked a moment of reckoning for women beedi workers, who had long been denied their labour rights. As contractors refused to raise wages and a self-styled trade unionist dismissed their demands at a meeting involving labourers, contractors, and government officials, the women pushed back collectively and resolutely. When the ALC ruled in their favour and asked the man to mend his ways, the women knew they had won their fight. </p><p>This marked the beginning of a transformation, not only in wage negotiations but also in how the women saw themselves and spoke for themselves.</p><p>At the centre of this shift was Jabeena Khanum, the daughter of a beedi worker who had grown up observing how women’s labour was reduced to being seen as “timepass”. </p><p>The collective defiance displayed at the ALC office was the outcome of her decade-long efforts to organise and empower women from marginalised communities.</p><p>For the 39-year-old Jabeena, trade unionism had never been a dream. She grew up in a middle-income family. Her mother, Jainabbi, was<strong> </strong>a beedi worker, and her father, Mohammed Ghouse Khan, was an autodriver. She was inspired by her teachers and aspired to be one.</p>.<p><strong>Dreams shattered</strong></p><p>These dreams were shattered when she was pursuing PUC. Mounting financial pressures took a toll on the family, while her best friend's sudden death under mysterious conditions rattled her. Both of these factors led her to drop out of college.</p><p>She then started teaching at a school for child labourers in Old Davangere. She also rolled beedis to supplement the family income.</p><p>As part of her work to bring children to school, she often visited the homes of poor, marginalised and minority families in Old Davangere. Many of the women she met were engaged in beedi rolling.</p><p>At first, they resisted her efforts, believing that children had to work, even if in menial jobs, to support the family. It was then that Jabeena realised that empowering beedi workers to claim their rights could also enable their children to escape child labour and attend school.</p><p>While teaching at the school in 2004–05, she began exploring the works of Muslim women writers in Kannada, after conversations with her colleague M Karibasappa. The writings of Sara Aboobacker, Banu Mushtaq, Sabiha Bhumigouda and K Sharifa further deepened her understanding of women’s issues within the community.</p><p>For a couple of years, she worked in the school. After this, her activities centred on establishing women’s self-help groups and training them to obtain birth certificates and other necessary identification documents. </p><p>The awareness during this phase was mostly on civic issues. Though the changes were incremental, they meant a great deal to the women.</p><p>At a certain point, the women moved beyond civic issues and addressed labour issues, including their rights as beedi workers. It was then that Jabeena formed Neralu Beedi Workers Union (2014) and registered it as a trade union with the Labour Department in 2017. </p><p>Nazima Banu, who has been a member of the union for the last 10 years, says, “Jabeena explained why we are getting low wages, took us to the labour office and gave us a voice.”</p><p>Nahera Banu, another union member, explains how she began asserting her rights within her own family.</p><p>“We never spoke within our families, and when we started speaking, there was opposition. Then, Jabeeena would come home, help us get labour cards and explain that we weren’t going out for any illegal work. Eventually, we got the courage and started speaking boldly within the family.”</p> <p>The confidence they gained at their homes emboldened the women, giving them the agency to speak outside as well.</p><p>“We had never gone out of our homes and were afraid to speak to those in power. The beedi contractors would break the beedis when we spoke up. Jabeena took us to the labour officer and showed us how to speak. After five years, we started voicing our views,” says Nazeema.</p><p>In 2016, matters deteriorated when contractors and beedi manufacturers employed the age-old ‘divide-and-rule’ policy to fracture the workers’ unity. Another union member, Nagina Banu, recalls that the contractors tried to incite beedi workers against Jabeena and threatened to stop providing raw material if they remained with her. “We paid no heed,” she notes.</p><p>Though the contractors tried to incite some women to revolt violently, their strategy failed, and the women eventually joined the union.</p><p>Unionisation and regular campaigns have improved workers' conditions in an industry notorious for underpaying workers despite high profits. As a result, women, who were earning Rs 50-60 for rolling 1,000 beedis, are now earning Rs 240 for the same work. However, the discrepancies are still stark. Women get Rs 6 for preparing 25 beedis, while packets of 25 beedis are sold in the market for Rs 25-35. </p>.<p><strong>Constant source of support</strong></p><p>Jabeena’s parents and family members have been a constant source of support for her work. She also acknowledges Karibasappa's role in her journey. However, she notes, there was opposition from conservative sections within the Muslim community.</p><p>“Initially, when we were working with child labourers, there was no problem. But once we started self-help groups, we faced backlash from Masjid committees,” Jabeena says. Resistance came from families as well.</p><p>“Whenever women go out, male members start asking when and where, questioning our conduct. We have to prove ourselves constantly. This is the patriarchy trying to keep us within its bounds,” she adds.</p><p>Jabeena says activists like Sebastian Devaraj, Usha Ravikumar and so on introduced her to leftist politics, and credits activists Venkatesh Prasad and Harith Sharma for teaching her organisational nuances.</p><p>Through empowerment, women moved beyond personal rights and local civic issues to take part in broader social and political campaigns, with Jabeena encouraging their engagement in state- and national-level matters as well.</p><p>At the height of the movement against the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA), Jabeena led women to form a 49-day Shaheen Bagh-style protest (inspired by the protests against the Act in Delhi, primarily by Muslim women). </p><p>As awareness grew, Jabeena and other members of the Neralu Union formed the Muslim Mahila Okkoota in 2020, bringing together 1,300 Muslim women under a broader platform. In 2023, they expanded their efforts by establishing the Dalit and Muslim Mahila Okkoota, which now has 700 members.</p><p>Feminist activist Madhu Bhushan has seen Jabeena and her union steadily grow and gain influence. “She is doing remarkable work, and her voice is crucial, as she engages with the unorganised sector and Muslim women in an increasingly divisive and polarised context.” </p><p>Madhu feels that Jabeena is challenging both the stigmatisation of the Muslim community and the conservatism within it. </p><p>“She is keeping the voices of the women very strong, and their livelihood, dignity and rights as the focus point. That is very important.”</p><p>Government officials also consider the changes Jabeena has initiated among Muslim women workers significant.</p><p>“Women workers are usually not organised, especially those from the Muslim community. But Jabeena brought together Muslim women and took on contractors. Thanks to those fights, workers started getting minimum wages,” said H L Guruprasad, who was the ALC in Davangere from 2012 to 2016. </p><p><strong>Emerging leaders</strong></p><p>Through empowerment, these women have gained freedom and the courage to assert their rights, a change evident in their everyday lives. Jabeena notes that many leaders have emerged in the process, reflecting the sustainability of her efforts.</p><p>“Earlier, if there was a late-night health emergency, they would require my presence. But now, many leaders effectively take on responsibilities,” she notes. Haseena Banu is one such leader who actively fights against corrupt practices in hospitals.</p><p>“We have organised numerous protests in hospitals. Staff were accepting bribes for each delivery — Rs 500 for a girl baby and Rs 1,000 for a boy baby. Once I realised this was illegal and gained the confidence to challenge them, I began demanding receipts for these payments. After that, they became more cautious and eventually stopped asking for bribes,” she says.</p><p>Jabeena believes that families and community leaders are gradually accepting the idea of women taking the lead. “Once the men saw that our work included demanding civic amenities and fighting against corruption, they recognised its social value and changed their opinions. The union’s success, despite prevailing prejudices against the Muslim community, further helped build their trust,” Jabeena says.</p>
<p>In May 2014, a reconciliation meeting at the Additional Labour Commissioner’s (ALC) office in Davangere marked a moment of reckoning for women beedi workers, who had long been denied their labour rights. As contractors refused to raise wages and a self-styled trade unionist dismissed their demands at a meeting involving labourers, contractors, and government officials, the women pushed back collectively and resolutely. When the ALC ruled in their favour and asked the man to mend his ways, the women knew they had won their fight. </p><p>This marked the beginning of a transformation, not only in wage negotiations but also in how the women saw themselves and spoke for themselves.</p><p>At the centre of this shift was Jabeena Khanum, the daughter of a beedi worker who had grown up observing how women’s labour was reduced to being seen as “timepass”. </p><p>The collective defiance displayed at the ALC office was the outcome of her decade-long efforts to organise and empower women from marginalised communities.</p><p>For the 39-year-old Jabeena, trade unionism had never been a dream. She grew up in a middle-income family. Her mother, Jainabbi, was<strong> </strong>a beedi worker, and her father, Mohammed Ghouse Khan, was an autodriver. She was inspired by her teachers and aspired to be one.</p>.<p><strong>Dreams shattered</strong></p><p>These dreams were shattered when she was pursuing PUC. Mounting financial pressures took a toll on the family, while her best friend's sudden death under mysterious conditions rattled her. Both of these factors led her to drop out of college.</p><p>She then started teaching at a school for child labourers in Old Davangere. She also rolled beedis to supplement the family income.</p><p>As part of her work to bring children to school, she often visited the homes of poor, marginalised and minority families in Old Davangere. Many of the women she met were engaged in beedi rolling.</p><p>At first, they resisted her efforts, believing that children had to work, even if in menial jobs, to support the family. It was then that Jabeena realised that empowering beedi workers to claim their rights could also enable their children to escape child labour and attend school.</p><p>While teaching at the school in 2004–05, she began exploring the works of Muslim women writers in Kannada, after conversations with her colleague M Karibasappa. The writings of Sara Aboobacker, Banu Mushtaq, Sabiha Bhumigouda and K Sharifa further deepened her understanding of women’s issues within the community.</p><p>For a couple of years, she worked in the school. After this, her activities centred on establishing women’s self-help groups and training them to obtain birth certificates and other necessary identification documents. </p><p>The awareness during this phase was mostly on civic issues. Though the changes were incremental, they meant a great deal to the women.</p><p>At a certain point, the women moved beyond civic issues and addressed labour issues, including their rights as beedi workers. It was then that Jabeena formed Neralu Beedi Workers Union (2014) and registered it as a trade union with the Labour Department in 2017. </p><p>Nazima Banu, who has been a member of the union for the last 10 years, says, “Jabeena explained why we are getting low wages, took us to the labour office and gave us a voice.”</p><p>Nahera Banu, another union member, explains how she began asserting her rights within her own family.</p><p>“We never spoke within our families, and when we started speaking, there was opposition. Then, Jabeeena would come home, help us get labour cards and explain that we weren’t going out for any illegal work. Eventually, we got the courage and started speaking boldly within the family.”</p> <p>The confidence they gained at their homes emboldened the women, giving them the agency to speak outside as well.</p><p>“We had never gone out of our homes and were afraid to speak to those in power. The beedi contractors would break the beedis when we spoke up. Jabeena took us to the labour officer and showed us how to speak. After five years, we started voicing our views,” says Nazeema.</p><p>In 2016, matters deteriorated when contractors and beedi manufacturers employed the age-old ‘divide-and-rule’ policy to fracture the workers’ unity. Another union member, Nagina Banu, recalls that the contractors tried to incite beedi workers against Jabeena and threatened to stop providing raw material if they remained with her. “We paid no heed,” she notes.</p><p>Though the contractors tried to incite some women to revolt violently, their strategy failed, and the women eventually joined the union.</p><p>Unionisation and regular campaigns have improved workers' conditions in an industry notorious for underpaying workers despite high profits. As a result, women, who were earning Rs 50-60 for rolling 1,000 beedis, are now earning Rs 240 for the same work. However, the discrepancies are still stark. Women get Rs 6 for preparing 25 beedis, while packets of 25 beedis are sold in the market for Rs 25-35. </p>.<p><strong>Constant source of support</strong></p><p>Jabeena’s parents and family members have been a constant source of support for her work. She also acknowledges Karibasappa's role in her journey. However, she notes, there was opposition from conservative sections within the Muslim community.</p><p>“Initially, when we were working with child labourers, there was no problem. But once we started self-help groups, we faced backlash from Masjid committees,” Jabeena says. Resistance came from families as well.</p><p>“Whenever women go out, male members start asking when and where, questioning our conduct. We have to prove ourselves constantly. This is the patriarchy trying to keep us within its bounds,” she adds.</p><p>Jabeena says activists like Sebastian Devaraj, Usha Ravikumar and so on introduced her to leftist politics, and credits activists Venkatesh Prasad and Harith Sharma for teaching her organisational nuances.</p><p>Through empowerment, women moved beyond personal rights and local civic issues to take part in broader social and political campaigns, with Jabeena encouraging their engagement in state- and national-level matters as well.</p><p>At the height of the movement against the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA), Jabeena led women to form a 49-day Shaheen Bagh-style protest (inspired by the protests against the Act in Delhi, primarily by Muslim women). </p><p>As awareness grew, Jabeena and other members of the Neralu Union formed the Muslim Mahila Okkoota in 2020, bringing together 1,300 Muslim women under a broader platform. In 2023, they expanded their efforts by establishing the Dalit and Muslim Mahila Okkoota, which now has 700 members.</p><p>Feminist activist Madhu Bhushan has seen Jabeena and her union steadily grow and gain influence. “She is doing remarkable work, and her voice is crucial, as she engages with the unorganised sector and Muslim women in an increasingly divisive and polarised context.” </p><p>Madhu feels that Jabeena is challenging both the stigmatisation of the Muslim community and the conservatism within it. </p><p>“She is keeping the voices of the women very strong, and their livelihood, dignity and rights as the focus point. That is very important.”</p><p>Government officials also consider the changes Jabeena has initiated among Muslim women workers significant.</p><p>“Women workers are usually not organised, especially those from the Muslim community. But Jabeena brought together Muslim women and took on contractors. Thanks to those fights, workers started getting minimum wages,” said H L Guruprasad, who was the ALC in Davangere from 2012 to 2016. </p><p><strong>Emerging leaders</strong></p><p>Through empowerment, these women have gained freedom and the courage to assert their rights, a change evident in their everyday lives. Jabeena notes that many leaders have emerged in the process, reflecting the sustainability of her efforts.</p><p>“Earlier, if there was a late-night health emergency, they would require my presence. But now, many leaders effectively take on responsibilities,” she notes. Haseena Banu is one such leader who actively fights against corrupt practices in hospitals.</p><p>“We have organised numerous protests in hospitals. Staff were accepting bribes for each delivery — Rs 500 for a girl baby and Rs 1,000 for a boy baby. Once I realised this was illegal and gained the confidence to challenge them, I began demanding receipts for these payments. After that, they became more cautious and eventually stopped asking for bribes,” she says.</p><p>Jabeena believes that families and community leaders are gradually accepting the idea of women taking the lead. “Once the men saw that our work included demanding civic amenities and fighting against corruption, they recognised its social value and changed their opinions. The union’s success, despite prevailing prejudices against the Muslim community, further helped build their trust,” Jabeena says.</p>