Birubala Rabha fought to end the stigmatisation of women

Slowly, limping and swaying with a sort of palsy, a young woman was led across the grass. Her name was Jarmila. She was 27, but had the body of a wasted child. Rain was pouring down; two women sheltered her with an umbrella. She had come to see Birubala Rabha because her sister-in-law beat her, and called her a witch. But all she really wanted was a room of her own in her brother’s house. Inside the hall where Birubala was she went to sit alone, a child-woman with a reedy voice and huge pleading eyes. But Birubala made a compromise between her and her brother. At the end Jarmila crumpled to the ground, crying, to seek her brother’s blessing. He had agreed that he would give her a room and never call her a witch again. As he left, he touched the feet of Birubala and, with a namaste, thanked her.