Stretching the Widow\'s Mite: Ibu Sofia\'s Story

George Miller

Being left a widow or deserted wife in a society without social security is a fearful situation. One has only to recall the feeling of dread of being left alone held by many women in 19thC English novels. Imagine the even more difficult position of single women in a poor, subsistence economy such as that existing in parts of Eastern Indonesia.

Ibu Yosphinah Sofia from Kabupaten Sikka on the island of Flores was deserted by her husband sixteen years ago when she was 31, leaving her to bring up her two children, the youngest of whom, Maria, was less than one year old at the time.

Ibu Sofia  she refuses to use the surname of her husband  is a poor, landless, peasant farmer. She tills the soil of a local landowner with whom she shares the income from the harvest. She walks the one kilometre to the plot of land from her home and back again before and after work. The land is not particularly fertile and the growing season is short; Sikka experiences a rainy season of four months from December to March, followed by a long dry season with no rain for eight months. Little grows from June to December.

Yet this single lady with only primary level education has survived in this critical situation in this harsh environment, at the same time retaining her natural grace and personal dignity.

Fortunately she owns her own house, a tiny hut built mostly of cane. She also has the yard surrounding her house in which she can grow vegetables in the rainy season. There are also a few fruit trees. She has three hens and two tethered pigs. Unfortunately, the pigs are now too old to produce piglets, the sale of which formerly supplemented her income. She will shortly sell her two elderly pigs.

On the land which she tills by hand, Ibu Sofia grows, as cash crops, peanuts, corn, sweet potato and pumpkin, the latter used locally as fodder. From her home garden she is able to sell leaves of sweet potato plants and paw-paw trees, which are used for cooking and for wrapping food. She has a custard apple tree which bears fruit for about two months in May/June, and during these months she is able to sell the fruit. Her tamarind tree bears in July or August and its fruit too can be harvested and sold to supplement Ibu Sofia's meagre income in the middle of the dry season.

Most rural families in the area have a monthly income of between A$15 and A$30 per month; Ibu Sofia's is towards the lower end of this scale.

The best market in which to sell her meagre produce is in the town of Maumere, ten kilometres away. But to avoid the expense of transport, she prefers to entrust her fruit and vegetables to a neighbour to sell on her behalf, together with the neighbour's own goods. For when a woman does go to market, it costs $1.50 for the return journey in a mini-bus. There is also the $1.50 charge imposed on vendors at the market though if a vendor can get there early and quickly dispose of her produce, she may be able to vacate the site before the official comes round to collect the fee at about 8.30am. Setting-off for the market has to be before 5.30am. Goods are not usually sold after 11.00am as it then becomes unbearably hot.

On occasion Ibu Sofia may obtain work as a day labourer in other fields. The pay is $1.50 to $2.20 per day.

The lack of water during the long dry season is a perennial problem. Ibu Sofia is fortunate to have an off-the-roof tank, but it contains only enough to last several months. By about June it is necessary to truck water in. A tanker of 5,000 litres costs over $10. This will last a household about a month at an average of 40 or 50 litres per person per day. (By comparison, it is hoped Canberrans will restrict themselves to 150 litres per person per day, while in Eurobodalla Shire, on the south coast of New South Wales, residents currently average 214 litres per person per day). In the hot tropical climate, with this water Ibu Sofia has to wash, cook, bathe, flush the toilet and hopefully water her garden. Towards the end of the dry season it is necessary to reduce consumption to twelve to fifteen litres per person per day.

To stretch her meagre income further, Ibu Sofia and fifteen other widowed or deserted women formed a small cooperative, or kelompok, through which they rotate small amounts of credit based on well-established micro-finance principles. The concept of group saving in the form of arisan has a long tradition in many Indonesian societies, including that of Flores. The kelompok began with minute contributions of 15 cents per person, which enabled just enough capital to be raised so that in turn, members could purchase thread and dye to weave the traditional tenun ikat cloth, produced using a back-strap loom seated on the ground in the shade of a tree.

In 2005, with a further injection of a small amount of capital in the form of a loan from a local NGO, the Yayasan Pembangunan Masyarakat Flores (YPMF), working in cooperation with a Canberra NGO, the NTA (Nusatenggara Association East Indonesia Aid) more cloths were able to be woven and sold. The group also received training in managing their organization, in dyeing, and in keeping accounts.

The group's bookwork, overseen by the chairwoman, Ibu Sofia, and a Treasurer, is handwritten, simple and detailed. Records are kept of each and every members deposits and withdrawals, which are made on the 5th of each month. When a cloth is sold, the member contributes an extra $1.50 to the group, in addition to the regular contributions of 40 cents per month. After paying the instalment on her loan, the woman may use part of her profit as disposable income to be used for food, clothing or education for her children.

Interest is paid on every loan. In this way the ladies as a kelompok have been able to amass a working capital of around $50, pathetically small in Australian terms, but sufficient to ensure regular purchases of thread and dye on Flores.

As much as she would like to spend more time weaving, after tending the plot of land, gardening and running the house, Ibu Sofia often lacks the time and energy for this activity which would generate more income for herself. Her weaving is not routine, but she takes her responsibility as chairwoman of the kelompok most seriously and encourages other members to make themselves more financially self-sufficient.

Ibu Sofia, as a lover of natural beauty, cultivates flowers around her house for as long as she can following the rains.

In what would be a new initiative for her cooperative, there has been a proposal that goat-rearing be considered as a kelompok activity, again using rotating credit. The goats would be tethered and provided with fodder harvested from the fields and from trees. Such an enterprise would be a colossal step forward in terms of business practice and livestock management for the group of widows. Training however is available through the local NGO. The intention is that, beginning with the most needy of the group, goats would be provided, the cost repaid in instalments through the sale of kids. After several years it is planned that each member would have at least one goat.

During the past few years Ibu Sofia has been able to extend her meagre resources to take a few faltering steps towards a higher standard of living. This has also led to an increased self-respect and the acquisition of new life skills. Life will always be hard for Ibu Sofia and her friends, and they will never be rich. But minute advances can make a huge difference when one starts from such a low base.