WOMEN-MONGOLIA: Economic Reforms Exact Heavier Price On Women

By Suvendrini Kakuchi Reprint | | Print |

Suvendrini Kakuchi

ULAN BATOR, Jul 8 1998 (IPS) - Life had never been easy for Jinsmaa, who lives in a small arid town in the South Gobi Desert. But when the national government decided to embark on free market reforms nearly a decade ago, things got even tougher for her.

While wages had been low under the socialist system, no one had really been in want even in the remote regions because the state had provided for the basics of life: health care, education, jobs and pensions.

But then the Soviet Union, which had been subsidising Mongolia in large part, fell apart. Forced to fend for itself, this Central Asian country decided that the only way to survive was to renounce socialism and implement economic reforms.

The transition, however, has been painful for Mongolians – especially the women, as well as the children and the elderly, says the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP).

Jinsmaa, for example, lost her job as a schoolteacher two years ago. Indeed, of the 900 people now unemployed in Dalanzaddgad, where Jinsmaa and her family live, 600 are women.

And while nationwide statistics indicate that the percentage of unemployed women are just slightly higher than that of men – 51 percent against 49 percent – observers say the women are more likely to stay jobless than their male counterparts.

Childcare subsidies have all but disappeared, as has state aid for the elderly. Women are thus being expected to stay home more than ever to take care of the aged and the children — many of whom are spending much of the time at home because their parents can no longer afford to send them to school.

Official figures also indicate that of Mongolia’s estimated 46,000 households, almost 80 percent are headed by single mothers, with divorcees and widows making up the majority of the household heads.

Social workers say economic hardship is a major factor in the rise of broken families in the country. It is also one of the causes of the increasing number of women who are being beaten up by their husbands.

Unsurprisingly, social workers say a large number of Mongolians who live below the poverty line – defined as those earning lower than 9,500 tughriks (11 dollars) a month – are women. Of Mongolia’s 2.3 million people, about 40 percent are poor, and their ranks are growing every day.

In the same year that Jinsmaa lost her job, a National Forum on Women in Development was held here in the Mongolian capital. The Forum pinpointed the need to empower women with jobs that would help them out of their financial ruts and would also enable them to uphold their independence.

The goal, said the Forum participants, was not just to aid Mongolian women in surviving the economic transition, but also to help them strengthen their decision-making abilities and be in control of their own lives.

But as one social worker here admits, “The road is a long one. With the current economic problems faced by the country, there is a lack of funds to transfer to women’s programmes.”

Not many people are looking at the politicians for help, since women’s representation in politics is very low. Out of Mongolia’s 76 members of parliament, only seven are women. All the Cabinet members are men.

Jinsmaa, though, has been fortunate enough to become a part of a grassroots project that makes and sells traditional Mongolian saddles and boots. The project is under the National Poverty Alleviation Programme that is funded jointly by the World Bank and the UNDP.

A former collective farm supervisor had spearheaded the project, managing to get a loan of 250 dollars for it. There are 16 young women, including Jinsmaa, now 27, who are part of it. The women work five days a week and each earns an average of 30,000 tughriks (35 dollars).

The basic materials for the saddles and boots are bought at the Chinese border. The work is hard, and on any given hour during any workday, a visitor can find most of the women lost in labour. The intricate designs are sewn with a bright, blue thread, the needles alternately flying up and then digging hard into solid leather.

Jinsmaa says she wants to go back to school and study again, perhaps a course that can land her a better job that will pay more. But she acknowledges that this is just not possible now, given Mongolia’s current sorry economic state.

Jinsmaa is thankful for small mercies. At least she and her husband – who has kept his job as an electrician — are still married.

And while her fingers are all scarred because of her constant needlework, Jinsmaa says she is happy with Mongolia’s economic transition, and is determined to make it. “I work hard,” she declares, “and am grateful for being employed.”