‘A father and mother to my daughter’

A single mother in Kashmir battles stigma and rising costs.

A photo of two people holding hands walking along a road made of a long receipt.
[Jawahir Al-Naimi and Muaz Kory/Al Jazeera]
[Jawahir Al-Naimi and Muaz Kory/Al Jazeera]

What's your money worth? A series from the front line of the cost of living crisis, where people who have been hit hard share their monthly expenses.

Name: Haleema Jan*

Age: 37

Occupation: Cleaner at a bank

Lives with: Her daughter Sania Haleem*, 12

Lives in: A wooden shanty with cement floors in Srinagar, the largest city in Indian-administered Kashmir. Haleema’s home is located about 4.8km (3 miles) from the city’s main commercial area, where government offices and busy marketplaces can be found. It sits on a 450-square-foot (42 square metres) piece of land that she bought eight years ago.

A plywood board partitions her home into two rooms. One room serves as the kitchen, and the other doubles up as the bedroom and dining area. There is also an outdoor toilet with a tin door.

Monthly household income: Haleema’s monthly income is 8,000 rupees ($97).

Total family expenses for the month: 6,988 rupees ($85). In February, Haleema’s expenses were higher than usual due to Sania starting a new grade at school and Haleema having to pay for her school supplies and fees.

*These are pseudonyms to maintain privacy

A photo of two people walking through an outdoor market.
On Sundays, Haleema and her daughter, Sania, spend time together and head to the market to buy groceries [Al Jazeera]
On Sundays, Haleema and her daughter, Sania, spend time together and head to the market to buy groceries [Al Jazeera]

Every day, Haleema wakes at dawn and performs her morning prayers. She then goes to buy bread, makes breakfast, and irons her daughter’s uniform before it is time to leave for work. At 9.30am, Haleema heads out, locking the door to her shanty and the outdoor toilet, and starts her walk along a lane lined with cement houses. Her house at the end of the lane is the smallest in her locality. She walks for 30 minutes along unpaved roads, passing grocery stores, a baker and vegetable sellers to reach the bank where she works as a cleaner.

She is not a permanent employee. Haleema has no contract and she lives in constant fear of losing her job, so she does her best to not give her employer any cause for complaint. Without a job, she would not be able to feed herself and her daughter, Sania, or send the 12-year-old to school.

Haleema is a divorced single mother working to support her family - and with that comes stigma and multiple challenges.

“People sometimes think women who go out to earn are not of good character, unless you have a job like a doctor, a teacher or any other job considered respectable that increases your status in the society,” she explains.

A photo of cooking bowls, pots and pans with a little stove.
A wooden shelf serves as a cooking area in Haleema's kitchen [Al Jazeera]

‘I would have died’

Haleema was born in Srinagar, the youngest of nine siblings - five sisters, and four brothers. Her father sold vegetables from a cart, a business now continued by her brothers. Haleema wished to study, but says that she grew up in a family with little money and education was not a priority. At 12, she left school to help her mother cook and clean the house.

When she was 25, her family married her to a car mechanic. The marriage was unbearable, she says. Her husband abused her, and the domestic abuse only got worse after Sania was born.

“I was beaten at times and asked why I gave birth to a daughter. I was locked in a room at times and forced to feed my daughter sugar mixed with water instead of formula [milk],” Haleema recalls, her eyes moist.

She contemplated divorce but worried about the future, knowing that her family would not be able to support her and Sania. They would need a home, and she would need a job. Once a woman is married in Kashmir, she says, the family thinks a burden has been lifted.

After four years of marriage, Haleema left her husband. “If I had not decided to get rid of that relationship, I would have died,” she reflects.

Initially, Haleema, along with Sania, stayed with her parents. She searched for work but without any specific training, the only job she could find was as domestic help for three families. Then one of the families she worked for recommended her as a cleaner at the bank.

In 2015, the year Haleema started working at the bank, she sold all the gold jewellery that her family had given her for her marriage to buy a plot of land. With an additional 20,000 rupees ($243) that she had saved, she built a shanty for herself and Sania with a foundation of cement and stone, walls of plywood, a blue tarpaulin ceiling and a tin roof.

An illustration of a graph indicating inflation with the left bar a bit longer than the right bar.
[Muaz Kory/Al Jazeera]

‘My life does not rest’

When she started working at the bank, Haleema was paid a monthly salary of 2,700 rupees ($33). Three years later, it went up to 4,000 rupees ($49). In January, it was raised to 8,000 rupees ($97). But even with these salary increases, it is difficult to meet rising costs like those of food.

“Sometimes I wish to buy dry fruits and honey but I cannot,” says Haleema, adding that she hopes to buy some during the holy month of Ramadan. Chicken, mutton and cheese are occasional luxuries.

“I spend very carefully,” Haleema explains in a tired voice, sipping tea as she and Sania sit on a brown blanket on the cement floor of their room.

“Surviving as a single mother, when inflation is so high, is very difficult,” she says.

It is a Sunday - Haleema’s only day off - and the one day she and Sania have to spend time together and do things like grocery shopping.

She rarely takes a day off work - even when she is unwell. She is never late to work and by 10am has started dusting the desks and chairs, careful not to disturb anyone. She makes tea for the bank employees, and thinks that if they do not get their tea on time or if she does not clean properly - they might replace her.

At 5pm, when the bank closes, she heads home to cook dinner.

“My life does not rest. I always have to work because there is no other option,” Haleema explains, with a smile. “If I keep on whining, it will deteriorate my mental health. I just hope for a better future.”

Still, living in a society that stigmatises single mothers, brings additional hardship. Parents at her daughter’s school and acquaintances sometimes avoid her. She worries about finding a match for Sania in the future and meeting the financial expectations of a future marriage for her daughter. Haleema fears that if anything happens to her, Sania will end up in an orphanage as there will be no one to take care of her.

“People at times think it is my fault that I am a single mother. They judge you. It is at times mentally exhausting when you do not have anyone to share [your problems] with. I feel lonely and tired but I do not have the privilege to complain and cry,” she says, adding that she would not consider a second marriage after the abuse she suffered previously.

Her siblings hardly call or visit her. “They do not know what is going on in my life,” she shares. One of her brothers used to help her out - he would visit and bring Haleema and Sania clothes and groceries. But he died of a heart attack four months ago and now, Haleema says, “I feel the last support is gone.”

A photo of people buying groceries from a seller at an outdoor market.
Haleema hopes to one day build a cement home over the shanty that she shares with her daughter [Al Jazeera]

‘Live for my daughter’

Haleema says she does not have dreams for herself. “I only live for my daughter and work hard for her,” she states resolutely while cooking green beans and onions for lunch.

“I have to be both a father and mother to my daughter. If I am not strong she might feel weak,” Haleema says.

She says the plot of land that she owns - which has doubled in value since she bought it - is “the only safety I have in life”.

She wants to build cement walls. “The shack is cold in winter and hot in summer,” she explains. “But I have not been able to save anything. If I dream of saving, I have to give up eating.”

At the same time, she does not want to ask for help from anyone. “I feel it will hit my dignity,” she says.

"I have to be very strong through it all. I know there are many women like me, struggling and surviving each day in this cruel world."

Over the course of a month, from January 28, 2023 to February 28, 2023, as part of a collaborative project, Haleema Jan tracked her expenses with Al Jazeera.

Here are the expenses that tested her finances the most.

Expenses over one month

A photo of a row of herbs and spices, coffee, and a variety of other jars.
The increase in prices for food products is a source of stress for Haleema [Al Jazeera]
The increase in prices for food products is a source of stress for Haleema [Al Jazeera]

Groceries

Haleema and Sania’s breakfast consists of a boiled egg, a cup of Kashmiri salt tea known as nun chai and a traditional flatbread.

For lunch, they eat a packed lunch of rice and dal or vegetables, which Haleema often buys from the markets in the evening when the vendors reduce their prices.

Even so, the price of everything to do with food - from cooking gas to spices - has gone up in the past year and is a source of stress for Haleema.

Earlier, subsidised rice rations were readily available. Now, these are harder to get, Haleema says. For instance, she says she could buy 50kg of rice from government-subsidised stores each month but now can only buy 10kg, with each person being entitled to just 5kg.

Still, Haleema sees a bright side to eating simply.

“I cannot afford meat and chicken, so I eat vegetables and think they are very healthy. I see positivity in my own challenges in life,” Haleema says while rummaging around her wardrobe as she prepares to leave for the market with her daughter.

2022: 180 rupees ($2.20) for 5kg of flour**
2023: 210 rupees ($2.56) for 5kg of flour

A photo of a white board with writing on it and a textbook laid out in front, on top of a bag.
Sania, 12, is in the seventh grade and hopes to become a lawyer when she is older [Al Jazeera]

Sania’s education

In the room where mother and daughter sleep, Sania has written on a whiteboard in black marker, “I love my mother. It is only my mother who takes care of me when my father and paternal home threw me away.”

Sania is a sensitive child, Haleema says, and has asked about the hardships in her marriage.

“I know how my father’s family beat my mother, deprived her of her rights. My mother works hard for me and I love her,” Sania answers shyly when asked about the writing. She says she wants to become a lawyer to help women experiencing domestic abuse.

This year, Sania started seventh grade and Haleema had to buy her daughter a new uniform and shoes, textbooks, stationery and pay the school fees. All these expenses have gone up.

Haleema could have sent her daughter to a government school where the fees are lower, but she wants Sania to get a good education so she pays for her to attend a private school where she says students receive more individual attention as well as after-school tuition.

“For poor people, even the education of their children is a tough task,” Haleema says, adding that education is the only way for people to leave poverty.

Haleema is full of pride about Sania’s high marks in her recent annual exams and her starting a new grade in school.

2022: 650 rupees ($7.90) for monthly school fees**
2023: 750 rupees ($9.13) 

Kashmir - WYMW
[Jawahir Al-Naimi and Muaz Kory/Al Jazeera]

Clothing

“I try to fulfil the basic wishes of my daughter but all wishes cannot be fulfilled,” she says.

Recently, Sania has wanted a smartwatch, something her friend got, but this would cost one-fourth of Haleema’s salary.

Haleema rarely buys new clothes for herself, instead saving money when she can to buy them for Sania. “I manage with all the old clothes I have,” she says.

But the price of fabric has gone up, as has the cost of getting a salwar kameez stitched at the tailor’s. Last year it cost 350 rupees ($4.30) and it now costs 550 rupees ($6.70).

In February, Haleema bought a dress for Sania as a gift for her passing her exams, something she did last year also. The price of such clothing went up 33 percent.

2022: 600 rupees ($7.30) for a dress**
2023: 800 rupees ($9.74)

A photo of stairs going up outside with a bicycle and a tank on the top.
The front of Haleema's home built on the land she bought in 2015 [Al Jazeera]

Electricity

In Kashmir, residents in most localities - rural and urban - used to pay a flat monthly fee for electricity which varied between different areas. Haleema used to pay 700 rupees ($8.52). In 2023, the charge increased to 1,150 rupees ($14).

The authorities are now installing smart electricity metres as part of plans to supply round-the-clock electricity. The idea is that people will need to consume energy in a more judicious way. Haleema worries that under this system her bill will become unaffordable, and she will no longer be able to use appliances like the heater.

“Earlier, I used to pay the flat rate. Now, with a smart metre, each unit would cost 3.95 rupees ($.05). This is going to be a nightmare for me,” Haleema says.

2022: 700 rupees ($8.52) per month**
2023: 1,150 rupees ($14)

Two photos side by side.
Haleema buys food from a market in Srinagar [Al Jazeera]

Six quick questions for Haleema

1. What is one thing you had to forego this month? My daughter wanted to go on a picnic as it is spring - the season of almond blossoms in the parks. The beautiful pink and white flowers are everywhere. Her school friends say they went to gardens to see the blossoms with their families but if we go it will cost money which I cannot afford. So, I had to say “no” to my daughter. Maybe, in a few months, our situation will improve and we can go on a picnic.

2. What is the hardest financial decision you had to make this month? I feel weakness in my body but I still carry on without seeing a doctor. If I went to a doctor, the fee would be at least 300 rupees ($3.65), then he would recommend tests which would also be a huge cost. So I skipped going this month because I had to think about paying for my daughter’s education. I plan to see the doctor next month. I also don’t want to go to a government hospital as it is slow and I would have to take an entire day off from work and wait in a queue for hours before my turn.

3. Which is the most worthwhile expense from this month? My daughter’s school expenses. I want to fulfil her dreams of a good education so that she can become a lawyer. Her education is all my wealth.

4. When finances get tough - what advice do you have and what gets you through the difficult times? From the very beginning of my life, I have faced challenges and known what it means to sacrifice certain things. I believe when we are in good or bad times we should always be prepared and not spend money carelessly.

I also pray and seek help from God. Because sometimes my daughter asks questions like why we are poor, why her life is not like other children who are able to afford things that she is not. It depresses me. I cannot answer her. But I also teach her to have faith in God.

5. What is your biggest money worry? There are many. I want to have a house with cemented, painted walls with a bedroom for myself and my daughter. I also worry about my daughter’s education and her marriage in the future. Sometimes all these thoughts make me sleepless.

6. What is the saving hack you are proudest of? I go to work on foot. It saves me money and also helps me to remain fit. People prefer cars and hardly walk, but walking saves money, the environment and our health. I also bought a second-hand bicycle for my daughter to commute to school and to the tutor after school. It also saves money and makes her independent.

**Last year's prices were sourced from Haleema and shopkeepers in Srinagar

Read more stories from the series: What's your money worth?

Source: Al Jazeera