Originally written for the Villgro Research Blog, I’m re-posting my article here. For those short on time and patience, I would recommend just reading the last two paragraphs on the need to address the technology gender gap.

Technology and innovation are two words that form a pillar of social enterprise – even social enterprise itself is still considered an innovation. Social enterprises seek to develop technologies with the underlying assumption that they will increase productivity or create opportunities for social economic advancement. Some technologies are simple like the treadle pump, and others are complex like solar lanterns, but all of them help the BoP and it’s this latter benefit that we invest in. As social entrepreneurs, we’re obsessed with measuring this benefit and finding new ways to scale the impact further – in short we want to know that everyone who can benefit from this technology is adopting it. All the aforementioned statements are frequently discussed, but what we don’t hear enough about is whether these successful innovations are reaching men and women equally or whether there is a gender gap to adoption of technologies.

The International Council for Research on Women recently published the report “Bridging the Gender Divide: How Technology can Advance Women Economically”, which focuses on understanding how technology for the BoP differs in its impact on men versus women and what measures can be taken to ensure more inclusion of women. Four main barriers to adoption were identified:

-          Lack of education and technology literacy: women are often excluded from opportunities to learn the new technology

-          Time poverty: domestic responsibilities leave limited disposable time for tech exploration

-          Social norms: women are often not in the habit of operating technology, or adoption would require women to enter a public arena (i.e., market) outside their customary comfort zone

-          Limited economic means: domestic finances are most often controlled by the men of the households, leaving women unable to make a purchase decision to adopt innovations

These barriers can be overcome when developers of the technology or the social enterprise promoting the innovations take efforts to address the root causes, starting with including women in the design process. ICRW gives an example of the the Upesi rural biomass stoves, which were designed with inputs from women and consequently were adopted. I find this point to be one of the strongest recommendations – it addresses a systemic concern that prevents women adoption. As long as technology continues to be designed by men, women adoption will be low, perpetuating social norms that continue to support the existing gender gap. Sometimes, the solution is as simple as making a technology like a cooking stove, a height that women can reach. ICRW also suggests that inclusion of women in the design process can help to overcome many of the technology literacy and social norm barriers.

Other recommendations are centered on customizing the last mile distribution to address the awareness training needs, purchasing financing, and distribution through channels catered to women. By providing financing or bringing the innovation directly to the women, rather than relying on market place distribution, women are enabled to make the adoption. It is only through active efforts of the social enterprise to convert women adopters that this is possible.

ICRW provides the example of Solar Dryers in Uganda, which were financed by a partner NGO, enabling women to dry fruits for commercial consumption. As in the Solar Dryer example, technologies which can either create income generating activities or increase the productivity of women can go a long ways to contributing to their economic advancement. In addition, ICRW cites that the indirect benefits of increased productivity can also reduce the barrier of time poverty.

Overall, what I find most compelling and the most important point to takeaway is the need to examine and reevaluate how we think about the potential impact of a technology on helping the BoP. Social enterprises need to be more conscientious of the gender gap in innovation adoption and need to be vigilant in their efforts to address this gap.

One particular example comes to my mind of an innovative successful business model, who could benefit from thinking about their social impact with respect to an adoption gender gap. VisionSpring, an organization recently partnered with Villgro, uses a high touch-point sales distribution model to bring low-cost reading glasses to the BoP across southeast India. VisionSpring’s customer demographics are heavily skewed towards men even though there are many women who attend the eyecamps and should be customers. There seem to be two primary reasons for the gender divide between VisionSpring’s customers. The first is that eyeglasses are perceived as aesthetically unappealing, which trumps the value of clear vision. The second is that women are less likely to have disposable income and the economic means to make the purchase. Both these reasons are problems that should be and can be addressed by the social enterprise. Awareness campaigns for the importance of proper reading glasses in the preservation of vision, not to mention the benefits of increased productivity, can be conducted to overcome what is essentially a misguided social norm that is a barrier to wearing glasses. Women can also be engaged in sourcing frames that are more aesthetically appealing. Finally, some form of partnership with a microfinance institution to finance the purchases is also possible to overcome the economic concern.

The point I want to emphasize is not how VisionSpring can work to increase its female customers, but rather that it needs to proactively think and evaluate the impact of its technology to identify how to overcome the gender gap. This is true across all social enterprises. Even though many social enterprises have introduced game changing technologies to the BoP, I think if we look closer, we would see a divide in the impact by gender. This gap is one that needs to be overcome if we truly want economic advancement for all of the BoP – of both women and men.

When we first established our operations to produce Coir Atlas units a few weeks ago, we encountered an unexpected difficulty in getting a steady workforce of women. It seems like a simple equation: Decent Salary + Clean Working Environment + Lack of Employment Opportunities = Loyal Willing Workers. We had spread the word around the surrounding villages and poor colonies and expected to be flooded by eager employment seekers. We were quickly taught how wrong we were. The first day, we had one girl show up. We diligently trained her in the assembly process and taught her how to stitch and knot. She didn’t come back the next day.

We kept getting new women each day who would stay for one day of training never to return again.  “Why?” we asked. We found that there wasn’t enough traction and the women were hesitant about working in a newly established organization with no track record and no steady employees. It would seem shady to me too if I showed up to a workshop and I was the only girl working. Finally, when we managed to get three women to show up together, they all bunked the next day. They complained about the compensation structure, which was Rs. 50 during training days (the first week). Given our payment incentive of Rs. 15 per unit after training, the women who produced more than 3 units during training felt that we were cheating them out of their rightful earnings. So we changed our payment structure to whichever was higher, either Rs. 50 per training day or Rs. 15 per unit made, and also shortened training to 4 days instead of 7. We introduced a Friends & Family policy, where anyone who introduced a new worker who stayed received a Rs.50 bonus.

To assuage their fears of this unknown workshop, I used my physical presence as a female and someone they could relate to. For the entire first week, I sat with the women, teaching them the assembly process and making units alongside them for encouragement. Believe me, this is far from glamorous nor instantly gratifying. Training was difficult given my limited Hindi, ergo it became more of show than tell, which frustrated all parties involved. In the afternoons, our public electricity would often experience load shedding and the fans would come to a dead halt. Together, we sat in sweaty solidarity, sewing jute.

I find that people, particularly in the developed world, like to romanticize the poor and the notion of poverty – emphasizing the generosity which the poor show each other or relating how they instantly felt akin to a poor woman they worked with.  The reality is gray. While our women helped each other out, teaching someone who was new, or lending a hand to finish a unit, they were also competitive and possessive of limited supplies because they were paid by the units they made. Similarly, the women and I didn’t start out fond of each other; some of them were in fact quite difficult to work with and they viewed me as their boss who was not thinking on their behalf. They were also hesitant of each other, as everyone was competing for their own interests. Generosity and mutual understanding can’t come if it’s at the direct cost of potential income.

Camaraderie only developed over the course of our days working side-by-side. While our hands tied knots, we talked and learned about each other. Standard topics of conversations included: marital status, number of kids, age of their kids and what kind of food they cooked. I learned that Ratna, one of our best workers, is Tamilian but raised in Jamshedpur, so she likes to make South Indian dosas for her 2 sons on Sundays, her day off, because dosas are only good when they’re hot. Other days, she cooks a day’s supply of rice and daal before coming to work so that her husband and kids have meals during the day. Asha was someone I initially had difficulty teaching, but who has developed into a solid Coir Atlas maker; she is Bengali and so likes to make Bengali curries for her husband and two daughters. The women also developed friendships amongst themselves, joking with each other, and walking home with each other at the end of each day. But none of this happened overnight; it took time to build this mutual respect.

It was from the friend groups that formed that we decided to implement a group production model. We divided our 12 women into four groups of three. Each group is given a common supply of jute fabric, bamboo, thread, etc. and would be compensated for their total production rather than their individual production. Without our direction, the groups developed division of labor on their own. E.g., a particular member who was better at the finishing process took over that task while the other two women prepared the structural parts for her. It was incredible to watch them help each other within their group, but also develop a friendly competition with other groups. In the first three days of individual production, four women produced 14 units in total, which was frustrating when I could produce 8 units on my own in a day. Now, the groups are making 100+ units per day and they proudly and eagerly tell me how many units they’ve made each day.

***

Saturday was our first official payday, and the women were excited to find out how much they had earned. Our payment model is simple, Rs.15 per unit produced or Rs.100 per day, whichever works out in their favor. All of the women who were making units earned more than Rs.100 per day, which is often1.5x what they were previously earning. Four of our women workers come from Bagbera, a slum near the railway station. They used to earn daily wages of Rs. 60 rolling agarbatti (incense sticks), a common trade for poor women. Heera, our top performer, was an agarbatti roller who now earns an average of Rs. 130 per day, which supplements the income that our husband, a construction site worker makes. For Puja, another worker, this is her first job and the income she earns helps her family of 6 siblings to make ends meet because her father isn’t around anymore. It was eye opening for me to hear the story that each of our women had to tell for why she was here earning what equates to ~$3 a day.

As each woman was paid her salary, she was asked to sign her name in the ledger and it was then that I discovered that a number of our women were illiterate. Several of our top performers, who are deft in stitching and bright learners, were unable to sign even their own names, providing their thumbprints in place of a signature. Even many of those who could write their own names, did so laboriously in the handwriting of a child. Manju, who was a fast learner and made 6 units on her first day, couldn’t write the 3 letters that form her name in Hindi. She also wasn’t interested when I tried to teach her to write her name, because there was no income generation value in knowing it. It was hard for me to grasp how these smart and competent women, whom I respect, could not know how to sign their names.

***

Setting up operations was and is challenging and taxing. There are constant setbacks and disappointments in the production performance. And when all the women appear each day, clad in brightly colored saris, with gold earrings and nose rings, I often wondered if these were truly women in need. I doubted the social impact that our operations had. For me, these uncertainties have been laid to rest. Even though our impact is small right now, the employment that we are providing is giving our small group of women a meaningful amount of extra income. Over the last weeks of working with and getting to know them, I came to develop a sense of kinship with and responsibility for them. My only worry now is on the business side of how to keep sales coming so that we can keep them employed. Because now that I know them, I don’t want to disappoint them and have them return to rolling agarbatti for $1.50 a day.

Access to healthcare has become the topic du jour thanks to the monumental legislation in progress in the United States. On this side of the world also, healthcare accessibility is also a pressing problem, but on a level that Americans would have a hard time fathoming. Most of the rural population in India are more than 3km from the nearest Public Health Center (PHC) which makes it extremely difficult for them to access health care. Even more concerning is that basic maternal healthcare is still unavailable in many rural villages. The UNDP estimated that 60% of births in India are still unattended by a medical professional.

A number of social enterprises have risen to the challenge and have low-cost models for providing the essential basic healthcare that each person deserves. The Villgro fellows visited with a few during the past month of training (both models are public private partnerships):

  • Byrraju Foundation runs a healthcare clinic in each of its adopted villages, where patients can seek diagnosis and treatment for common conditions – e.g., hypertension, diabetes, etc. These patients pay a nominal fee of Rs. 20, which allows them to get a routine check-up from a nurse and a consultation with a retired doctor.
  • Health Management and Research Institute (HMRI) runs a mobile clinic program, where once a month, a healthcare van with medical supplies, 2 qualified nurses and pharmacist operate a temporary clinic in the village.

    HMRI Mobile Clinic Van

    Patients are provided check-ups, medication, and if necessary, consultation referrals to the nearest PHC. The emphasis is to encourage villagers who normally wouldn’t seek treatment for ailments at the PHC due to the distance to come forth and get treated. Particular emphasis is placed on maternal health, where the local ASHAs are charged with the task to get pregnant women to come to the clinics for monthly check-ups.

Both of these models are providing great services to the rural villages, but it’s still not enough. While visiting HMRI, the district manager told us that these clinics faced a difficulty in getting pregnant mothers to come for check-upstheir husbands often prevented them from going to the clinics. This deeply disturbs me. By denying their wives access to pregnancy check-ups, these husbands are risking the lives of both the mother and child. There are a few reasons, both rational and irrational, for why this is so:

  1. 1. Opportunity Cost of Time – going to the clinic, even in the village will take half a day of the mother’s time, which is also equivalent to half a day of wages. Pregnancy check-up is not valued highly enough to justify the lost wages
  2. 2. Distrust of Nurses – distrust of examinations that may compromise her modesty is a perceived barrier that is reinforced by cultural tendencies to shelter women from the public arena
  3. 3. Undervaluing Women – although less frequently an explicit reason, there is still a systemic undervaluing of a woman’s life that leads a husband to bar his wife from receiving free clinical check-ups. There still persists the idea that a man can remarry easily, or to put it bluntly – she is replaceable

HMRI has counseling and intervention systems in place to deal with the first two reasons. The ASHAs as well as HMRI personnel who are trained will prevail upon the husband to help him understand the value of regular check-ups during pregnancy. Often, it’s merely a lack of awareness and education and the problem can be corrected.

However, the third reason is more insidious and is a cultural problem that many developing countries face. Women still need to be empowered all around the world to be able to exercise their right to seek healthcare, particularly maternal healthcare. The WHO estimated recently that for every 100,000 births, there are 540 maternal mortalities. That is an astoundingly high number, which organizations like HMRI are trying to improve. But unless women can actually access the care made available by HMRI, the high maternal mortality rate will persist. For all the women that HMRI is able help, there are many more who are unknown to HMRI who are prevented from receiving care.  For those women, it’s not the access to healthcare that we need to worry about, but rather the right to access the existing healthcare that we need to fix.