I had ventured into Namachivayapuram, a neighbourhood in Chennai, armed with the optimism of a 16-year-old determined to change the world. I worked for the International Center for the Prevention of Crime and Victim Care (PCVC), an internship I had taken to complement my Feminist Perspectives module. This NGO worked on raising awareness to prevent gendered crimes and rehabilitating survivors of acid attacks, arson, and domestic violence – heavy stuff.
But my role involved the prevention aspect of their work, which meant walking into communities and identifying women changemakers, engaging with random women on their way back from work or running errands, understanding the community from their perspective, and exploring their willingness to tackle civil and social issues with the organisation's support. The idea was to get women together in a room and initiate a dialogue about their lives in their homes, communities and city (sounds simple enough), understand how folks like me can help with resources we've got (a bit of education, a wee bit time and a topping of hope).
It was during this time that I delved into the parts of my city that live near the Coovum River, where the city's drainage waste flows and where marginalised caste groups and marginalised communities often reside. Whenever I walked into this community, I was angry at the world for perpetuating such disparities in the city I love, where some, like myself, had access to large personal and socioeconomic ambition while others, not so different from me, lacked access to clean drinking water or reliable electricity - stuck in survival mode, unable to figure out what happens tomorrow (forget 5-year term plans for socioeconomic growth). It was amidst this anger, despair, and disappointment that I met Vanitha Akka ("Akka" is how Tamil folks refer to an older sister; not all Akkas are related to you, but if you call someone "Akka" know that you've made your best bid for connection with a comrade!)