Re-imagining menstrual dignity through ‘kurma ghars’

Finding Solutions, Making Big Impacts, Stories from the Field

Rahi Shaila Ramesh

Gadchiroli district, Maharashtra

Introduction

In rural India, where traditions often dictate daily life, menstruation remains one of the most stigmatized topics. Shockingly, only 12% of the 355 million menstruating women in India use sanitary napkins, while the remaining 88% rely on unhygienic alternatives like cloth, ashes, and even sand.

This lack of proper menstrual protection can lead to severe health risks, including a 70% higher chance of Reproductive Tract Infections (RTIs). Yet, the stigma surrounding menstruation goes far beyond health concerns.

In many tribal communities, menstruating women are forced into isolation, treated as untouchable, and denied basic necessities.

But in the small village of Channabodi, a quiet revolution is taking place. The villagers are transforming their “kurma ghar,” a space once buried in shame and stigma, into a space for empowerment.

The burden of tradition

Menstruation huts, known by various names in different cultures, have long been part of many tribal villages. In Gadchiroli, they call it the “kurma ghar.” For generations, menstruating women have been forced to live in these small, cramped huts during their periods, isolated from the rest of the community.

The huts, often smaller than cattle sheds, are situated far outside the village. They lack basic sanitation and are in deplorable conditions, with flimsy roofs that leak during rains, turning the floors into muddy pools.

Imagine spending four nights every month in such a space — no proper shelter, constant fear of wild animals, and a biting cold during winter. The isolation doesn’t end there.

Women residing in these huts are treated as untouchables. Food and water are provided from a distance, and they are forbidden from going to work or school. The physical and emotional toll is immense.

The consequences go far beyond discomfort. Girls like Sanjana, a 15-year-old from Channabodi, have had to miss school every month to stay in the kurma ghar. Over time, this contributes to higher dropout rates, robbing young girls of the chance at education and better opportunities.

In some cases, the practice has even resulted in deaths due to snake bites, untreated infections, and other health complications, all because menstruating women are considered “impure” and must be segregated.

But despite the isolation and suffering, the women in these villages carry a heavy sense of shame, both about menstruating and being confined to the kurma ghar. This deeply ingrained stigma is hard to break as these practices are considered sacred and necessary by many in the community.

A collective, bold move towards change

In 2015, the National Human Rights Commission condemned the practice of confining women to menstruation huts. It also directed the Maharashtra government to put an end to this practice.

But change, especially in remote, tightly-knit communities, requires more than a top-down directive. It demands a nuanced approach that considers the local customs, traditions, and priorities.

Channabodi village, located deep in the Gadchiroli forest, had a unique response to this call for change. While some activists called for the outright banning of kurma ghars, the villagers understood that such a move could backfire.

Without these huts, menstruating women would have no alternative but to remain in the wilderness, potentially facing even more danger. Instead, the local community decided to transform the tradition from within.

As a Chief Minister Rural Development Fellow in the district I was pleased to see the men excited about this ambitious project. Rebuilding kurma ghar was no ordinary ask. The aim was not only to improve the physical structure but also to change its purpose and meaning.

Instead of the smallest, most neglected hut in the village, the new kurma ghar was designed to be large, inclusive, and multifunctional. It would serve as a shelter during menstruation and also become a central hub for women in the community.

With the help of the architectural firm Design Jatra, the villagers built the mansion using sustainable, traditional methods. It was also equipped with amenities like toilets, running water, and proper sanitation.

The new kurma ghar, renamed “Naar Samaj Askana Lone,” meaning “Village Community Women’s Home,” became a place of pride rather than shame. It could now house up to 40 women each month, giving girls like Sanjana the opportunity to stay in a safe and comfortable space.

An inspiration for many others

The transformation of the Kurma Ghar has had ripple effects throughout Channabodi. Health camps and awareness sessions have been organized in the space, gradually shifting attitudes about menstruation.

Women who were once isolated and shunned are now part of a community center where they can access health services, attend educational sessions and participate in cottage industry activities.

In a remarkable shift, the stigma associated with touching the kurma ghar has reduced. While before, anyone who entered the kurma ghar was barred from entering the village at that time, now visitors are welcome. This counts as a significant change in the community’s behavior.

Inspired by Channabodi’s success, the district administration is now replicating this model in other villages across Gadchiroli. The next step for the village is to establish a small library within the mansion and further develop livelihood opportunities for women.

The journey of the kurma ghar is far from over. It stands as a powerful example of how deeply ingrained traditions need to be transformed through community involvement and cultural sensitivity. The women of Channabodi are no longer victims of tradition – they are agents of change.

Genderhealthmenstruationwomen