“He was afraid of loneliness and darkness, but in his last days, he was beset by them,” says Shaik Humaira Parveen, her voice barely audible as she recalls her husband Shaik Abdul Khader Jilani’s grim battle with death amid the unrelenting COVID-19 pandemic, when loss and uncertainty became an all too common reality for countless people across the globe.
Jilani’s untimely demise on May 5, 2020, left Parveen, merely 27 at the time, to navigate life with her three young children in tow, the youngest just a three-month-old infant.
“He was logical, methodical, and possessed artistic talent,” she reminisces, her sombre voice tinged with pride. “Every time he walked into a room, it felt brighter and warmer. People took notice of him as he had a powerful aura,” she adds, gesturing toward a photograph of a well-dressed young man, nestled in the corner of an old dressing table.
Parveen’s modest two-room house behind the panchayat office in Yadavula Bazar of Nainavaram village in Vijayawada Rural mandal of NTR district in Andhra Pradesh, has bare essentials needed to get by in life.
Jilani, an MBA graduate, quit his job at a local fashion designing institute to set up a ladies’ tailoring shop at Kedareswarapet in Vijayawada city. On May 2 that year, he was diagnosed with typhoid. The following day, he tested positive for COVID, and just two days later, he was struggling to breathe. “He needed hospitalisation, but was too weak to walk. So, we had to pack him in a gunny sack and carry him to an autorickshaw,” recalls a misty-eyed Parveen.
Medical resources were scarce and hospitals overwhelmed. He was brought back home and confined to a small room upstairs, a portion of the house that belonged to her brother-in-law, to keep him at a safe distance from the rest of the family.
“That night, he likely sensed that the end was near and shared his financial situation with me. He asked me to be strong and take good care of our children,” she says, almost choking on her words.
The next day, he died in the ambulance while being rushed to a hospital in a critical condition. Parveen’s brother, a constable in the police department, decided to take responsibility of her eldest child, Mohammed Kaif (12), along with her financial needs. The younger ones — Siyan (8) and Maria (3) — live with Parveen.
Widowhood befell a large number of women across the country in the aftermath of the COVID-19 outbreak. With more men succumbing to the deadly virus, the pandemic created a large population of widows, exacerbating the socio-economic issues they already grapple with.
Death and distress
As per the records available with the State Department of Health and Family Welfare, Andhra Pradesh witnessed a total of 14,731 COVID deaths. Health Commissioner J. Nivas says financial aid was disbursed to 3,488 orphans who lost their single parent to the pandemic, 247 orphans who lost both parents and 196 beneficiaries of the Pradhan Mantri Garib Kalyan Package, an accident insurance scheme that covered loss of life due to COVID-19 and accidental death on account of COVID-related duty.
“As a one-time measure, the kin of the deceased who served as government employees were given jobs,” says Nivas.
But for many grieving wives, widow pension has remained frustratingly elusive. Despite their dire circumstances and urgent need for financial assistance, numerous ‘COVID widows’ — a term coined by the media — have encountered administrative roadblocks, paperwork complexities, and inordinate delays in processing their pension claims. As they cope with emotional trauma, these hindrances add an extra layer of uncertainty to their already difficult lives.
“While women from the middle and lower income groups battled financial distress, the paperwork needed to claim government benefits posed a major challenge,” says V. Mohini Giri, chairperson of New Delhi-based Guild of Service, which has been working for emancipation and empowerment of women for the past 45 years. “But the trauma of losing one’s partner is the same for everybody,” she says.
For Parveen, a class 10 pass from an Urdu medium school, it is a struggle to find a job that can help put food on her table. Jilani’s tailoring shop had to be shut down in the midst of the pandemic. “The lockdowns that followed the outbreak of the deadly virus forced us to shut our business. When the pandemic eased slightly, the landlord demanded the accumulated rent, but I was penniless. So, he seized our sewing machines and other equipment from the shop,” she laments.
Occasionally, she sells dry fish to families in the neighbourhood for a small margin of profit that takes care of her daily need of vegetables.
“I visit my parents’ house at Panja Centre in Vijayawada every weekend and bring back groceries sufficient to feed three of us for a week,” she says, adding that she buys dry fish from the One Town wholesale market and sells it in her area.
“At times when I don’t make money to buy even vegetables, I rely on dal (lentil soup) served to children at the nearby Anganwadi centre, which Maria attends every day,” she says.
Parveen is worried about the debts she has incurred, and unsure when she would be able to repay them. “Besides the ex-gratia of ₹50,000, I have not received any other support from the government,” she says, adding that she was denied widow pension on the grounds that she has the same ration card once used by her mother-in-law.
“Now, I have a separate card in my name but the staff at village sachivalayam say they are not able to map it for some reason. I don’t understand the technical terms they use and every time, return home without the purpose of the visit being fulfilled,” she complains.
A village sachivalayam is a local facility set up to decentralise administration by making all government services available under one roof.
Endless wait for aid
Yerramsetti Parvathi (42) is another COVID widow in Andhra Pradesh, hit with a slew of tasks amid her grief. Her husband, Venkateswara Rao, an auto driver, died of the virus in April 2021.
“Making ends meet was a challenge and I had no clue how to continue the education of my 16-year-old son and 14-year-old daughter,” shares Parvathi, who has studied till class 5. Her own parents, who were engaged as daily wage workers, could not afford her education beyond that.
She is yet to hear from the government on her application for widow pension filed in February 2022 and also for the Centrally-sponsored PM Cares, seeking support for her children’s education.
A resident of Ramalingeswara Nagar in Vijayawada, Parvathi today runs a small vegetable shop outside her rented house to eke out a living. At her lowest, help came from outreach workers of Vasavya Mahila Mandali (VMM), a local NGO working for women and children in need of support. Besides timely counselling and valuable guidance from VMM, she received a financial support of ₹15,000, which was sponsored by HCL Foundation, under the NGO’s ‘Amma’ project. Besides vending vegetables, Parvathi started selling homemade pickles to supplement her income.
Speaking about how COVID widows are stigmatised and marginalised, at times by their own families, VMM president Keerthi Bollineni says, “There have been cases of these widows being forcibly ‘passed on’ to or ‘inherited’ by new designated partners like the brother or a male relative of her late spouse.”
Disinheritance from property is a common problem, says Keerthi, citing the case of 35-year-old Bathula Anasuya, a native of Pamarru mandal in Krishna district, who was forced to leave her in-laws’ house after her husband Sivarama Krishna, who worked as an electrician, died of COVID.
Anasuya had had three miscarriages and was already at the receiving end of her step-mother-in-law’s constant abuse for inability to conceive a child. Sivarama Krishna’s death added to her misery, as her in-laws held her responsible for his demise. Unable to bear the mental torture, she lodged a police complaint against them with the support of VMM. The police called her in-laws and mediated a settlement agreement under which, Anasuya was paid a sum of ₹7 lakh before she walked out of her in-laws’ house. She also receives a monthly widow pension of ₹2,500 now.
The social impact of an increasing number of single women aside, a few States witnessed ‘feminisation of agriculture’. A large number of women joined the unpaid agriculture labour force by working on their own land in adverse conditions.
“There may not be any data to substantiate this, but parts of Rayalaseema district also saw many women taking to agriculture after the demise of their respective husbands,” says C. Bhanuja, director of Rural and Environment Development Society in Anantapur district. The NGO has been helping COVID widows with paperwork to claim widow pension and other benefits under various government schemes.
Fighting waves of intense emotions, the COVID widows are struggling to move on from their loss and make ends meet. The government can mitigate their woes by extending them financial assistance, says Keerthy.
Staying strong and hopeful
Adversities have made Sk. Khadija Bi stronger and more resilient after the death of her husband Nagul Meera (38) during the second — by far the deadliest — wave of COVID, on May 23 in 2021. She has a college-going daughter, aged 17, and a 13-year-old son.
“Picking up the threads of my life was the most difficult part, but I managed to develop new skills,” she says, sitting in her small shop, ‘Amma Matching Centre’, at Davajigudem in Nagar centre of Gannavaram, a suburb of Vijayawada in Krishna district.
The shop is filled with sari falls, lining material and blouses embellished with sequins and mirror work. Her husband was admitted to the COVID ward at Pinnamaneni Siddhartha Institute of Medical Sciences and Research in Gannavaram after he tested positive for the virus. “I sent him food for three days with a prayer that it should help him recover fast. On the fourth day, I got a call from my sister-in-law, informing he was no more,” she recounts.
Reeling under shock, Khadija Bi was confined to bed for a long time and many of her neighbours presumed she too would die of illness. The autorickshaw that her late husband drove was returned to the finance company for an unpaid loan. Though she stayed cooped up inside her home for months together, today Khadija Bi is a multi-tasker, manning the shop, going to the market to stock up on stitching material and training young girls in tailoring. Her paternal uncle has been helping her with the finances.
Besides the ex-gratia of ₹50,000 and a grant of ₹12,000 for each child, she has not received any other benefit from the government. “My widow pension is pending for some reason. I tried to seek an appointment with the local MLA multiple times but could not meet him. I cannot afford to lose my livelihood by keeping the shop closed for something that does not yield any result,” she rues.
A native of Annapureddypalle village in Bhadradri Kothagudem district of neighbouring Telangana, Khadija Bi moved to Andhra Pradesh in 2006 after getting married to Nagul Meera and does not intend to leave Gannavaram. “Leaving this place is unthinkable for me. There are so many memories of my husband here. I will stay put here, make my children self-reliant and make my husband proud,” she says, trying to fight back her tears.
“Fighting waves of intense emotions, the COVID widows are struggling to move on from their loss and make ends meet.” Keerthi BollineniPresident, Vasavya Mahila Mandali
“ Parts of Rayalaseema district saw many women taking to agriculture after the demise of their respective husbands , ”C. BhanujaDirector of Rural and Environment Development Society
