Parappanangadi: Everybody smiled at Lakshmi on the street for a few days. The garbage collector in Kerala’s Malappuram had just won the Monsoon Bumper Lottery of Rs 10 crore along with ten of her colleagues in the sanitation department.
At first, it appeared as if the entire town of Parappanangadi was celebrating her joy. But it’s been over a month and the smiles are slowly fading.
It’s now time for jealousy.
“The people in the neighbourhood have gone to the ration shop and told them not to give me rice anymore,” Lakshmi said, referring to the subsidised food grains at the local government-run fair-price shop. “They said they would only give me the ration if I changed my ration card from a below-poverty-line card to a regular one.”
She seethes with anger over being targeted for her sudden fortune.
“What about people who have yellow BPL cards even though they are not entitled to them? Why not ask them?”
For the 11 women sanitation workers, life changed unrecognisably and irreversibly. They became overnight media darlings and mini celebrities. It was non-stop sweet distribution and garlands at first. It broke the internet. The BBC, The Guardian, and even Al Jazeera splashed the headlines about the overnight rags-to-riches windfall.
People would walk up to them and tease them about how they have become rich now, recalled Lakshmi. It was all a joke.
Then the glances and body language changed.
The simmering jealousy bubbled up dramatically once the cold hard cash was deposited into their bank accounts on 23 August, nearly two months after the win. That’s when their ‘prosperity’ became more tangible, when neighbours suddenly realised that their social status had risen.
“Now when we smile at them, they don’t reciprocate. We still treat them the same way, but they don’t meet our eyes. They think that we’ve become rich and better. But we don’t feel that way,” said Leela, another woman who won the lottery.
Lakshmi has another counter. She knows a chunk of the winnings have gone into taxes, which will be spent on citizens.
“If we have won Rs 1 crore, then Rs. 40 lakh have been kept for them, the people. Then why do they need to be jealous,” she asked. “The people have to understand this.”
They [neighbours] think that we’ve become rich and better. But we don’t feel that way
– Leela
Others have just turned a blind eye to the animosity, “there’s no point dwelling on it,” said Bindu, another winner.
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Still picking waste
At the Haritha Karma Sena— the collective which sorts and sifts through non-biodegradable waste from homes in Parappanangadi—the women’s luck is the kind of stuff underdog films are made of. The women, six of whom are Dalits, have worked here as municipal garbage collectors and sorters for over five years. And they are not quitting it any time soon.
“We don’t know what is going to come from this win, so how can we live without doing work,” said Radha, one of the winners.
Lottery or no lottery, their day still starts at 8:30 in the morning as they board the bus or walk to the trash segregation centre located right behind the municipal office of Parappanangadi. It’s a vast three-walled space that opens out into an alley where a fisherman has a store. The smell of fish and garbage clings to the air bloated with humidity, as people stand in clumps at tea stalls.
Dressed in saris and green lab coats, their hair pulled back into buns, the women put on their masks and gloves, squat on the floor and sift through the mountains of dry garbage—mostly plastic, paper, bottles—manually. At regular intervals, other workers roll in handheld carts heaped with Malappuram’s trash.
We were in shock and asked multiple people to confirm before we could believe that we had finally won
– Radha
There’s nothing that sets the 11 lottery winners apart from the other women at the segregation centre. They still use old ‘unsmart’ keypad phones, wear the same polyester saris and rely on public transport. There’s not much money to splurge on luxury. They have used much of the lottery winnings already to pay off debt. And now, they are loan-free.
But the new lives they are trying to build are never too far away in their minds.
On some days of the week, Lakshmi comes into work an hour or two late. She is checking out plots to buy with the new money. “But we never skip work. Even if we come in a little late, we always come,” she said.
They make around Rs 250 per day, as part of the monthly payments made by the households from which the waste is collected. That is also the exact price of their winning lottery ticket, MB200261. Occasionally, they also get a share of the money made by the municipal corporation by selling trash.
In June this year, the group’s sanitation workers decided to buy a ticket for the Kerala government’s Monsoon Bumper Lottery.
Radha, who usually buys lottery tickets for the group, was collecting money—Rs 25 each—when 65-year-old Kuttimalu realised she did not have enough to give her. Another woman in the group, Cherrumanil Baby, did not want her friend to be left out and offered to split Rs 25 with her. They don’t remember when they bought the ticket, but the day the results were announced, 26 July, remains fresh in their minds.
The Rs 10 crore has now been split among the group. The nine women, who contributed Rs 25, received Rs 63 lakh each. Baby and Kuttimalu split the Rs 63 lakh, as they did with the ticket cost. The rest has been deducted as taxes.
“We were in shock and asked multiple people to confirm before we could believe that we had finally won,” said Radha. This was their fourth attempt at striking gold.
The 11 women—Karthyani (74), Kuttimalu (65), Chandrika (63), Cherumannil Baby (60), Parvathy (55), Leela (50), Radha (49), Shreeja (48), Bindu (47), Shobha (44) and Lakshmi (43)—are holding on to the one thing that centres them as their lives are turned upside down these days. Their job as garbage sorters and collectors. It is the job that brought the women together. And it still gives structure to their days.
“I was offered a role as an Anganwadi teacher but I didn’t go for it. All my relatives told me to take it, but I said I won’t. This is what is fun, staying together,” said Lakshmi.
Radha takes a break from sorting through the garbage and chips in.
“This fun won’t be there,” she said, laughing.
Lakshmi laughs and nods. Despite the incongruence of the garbage they continue to separate expertly and the money they have inherited, there is a sense of camaraderie and banter among the winners and other workers.
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Centre of the world’s attention
Fast cars and fancy houses may not be part of their plans, but the women have become pros at fielding questions from journalists. They’ve also roped in the health inspector Sreeji Sreedharan to be their translator. He is the interlocutor of their rags-to-riches story fluently switching from Malayalam to English for journalists from other parts of the country, and the world.
“A German reporter also wanted to do their story. I sent him a photo of the original lottery ticket,” said Sreedharan, scrolling through his WhatsApp.
Everyone in the small town of Parrapanagandi is now used to “media people” coming in to enquire about the lucky sanitary workers.
“We’re getting so many calls a day. That’s all we have time for now. Apart from reporters, we have people from LIC, and the banks calling us. People calling us asking if we want to buy cars,” said Lakshmi.
On 19 August, they were busy taking part in an Onam special programme held by a local news channel. Dressed in traditional kasavu saris, artificial gold jewellery and flowers in their hair, the women gather around the news anchor in an old heritage house. Their ‘lottery person’, who had helped them buy the ticket, had sent them the saris and the costume jewellery.
They listen attentively to instructions on camera angles and where to look. In between shots, they sit on the steps of the heritage home and watch the activity on set.
“I do want to have real gold ornaments. We had to sell ours to pay our loans and for other expenses,” Baby said shyly.
But for now, fixing her house is the priority.
Fake smiles, cold shoulder
The women live in a mixed-caste congested neighbourhood built on a marshland on the fringe of Parappanangadi. Almost all of them were affected by the devastating 2018 Kerala floods and continue to bear the brunt of monsoon rains. The rains have weakened the structural integrity of their houses. The walls are furrowed with cracks and their homes are almost always damp from floods. Repair work is a priority, and hopefully, a lick of paint as well.
Since the win and the media buzz, they have started experiencing an ‘othering’ of sorts. They can smell the resentment in the air. Caste prejudice which always thrummed beneath the mundanity of daily interactions are now more overt.
“The neighbours feel that the women do ‘disgusting and unhygienic’ work of collecting and sorting garbage,” said Sreedharan.
Jealousy and baldness have no cure
– Leela
With repairs in their houses, and better financial situation, their class position has risen. A few neighbours have accepted this, but many have started resenting the women. They sense this in the fake smiles, the cold shoulder, and the sudden drop in invitations to functions.
“Their new fortune has moved them up a few rungs on the class ladder, which has led to this,” said Sreedharan.
The women are acutely aware of the building resentment but they remain unbothered. “Jealousy and baldness have no cure,” said Leela, laughing.
Surgeries, debts, education
The lottery joy hides a mountain of hardships that have defined their lives until now. They say the Rs 63 lakh is a godsend. Especially because they were drowning under massive debts they have taken in the past. Leela’s fourth daughter had an accident on a railway track two years ago, and needed surgery, for which she took a Rs. 2.5 lakh loan. She now needs to save for a follow-up surgery for her daughter.
Shobha’s daughter died by suicide around nine months ago, and she has all her hopes pinned on her son. She now wants to use the lottery money for his marriage and to set him up professionally.
Bindu lost her husband two years ago because the family could not afford a kidney transplant. Her husband would often buy lottery tickets from the money painstakingly gathered for his dialysis in the hope of that one big win. Winning the lottery is a bittersweet experience for her.
She is determined to educate her teenage daughter, and also complete the construction of their house. She has a house loan and money she borrowed for her husband’s treatment to repay.
And Parvathy will use the money to support her family. Her husband is bedridden, and her younger son is preparing for government clerical exams. Her older son is a contractual employee with a non-banking financial corporation but doesn’t get a fixed salary.
Apart from reporters, we have people from LIC, and the banks calling us. People calling us asking if we want to buy cars
– Lakshmi
Chandrika who struggles with partial paralysis and high blood pressure can finally afford to pay attention to her health without worrying about losing a day’s wages when she calls in sick.
Leela and Lakshmi are now actively looking for land plots in the fast-developing Ramanattukara, around 14 km from Parappanangadi. Leela lives in the area but Lakshmi lives around 40km away in the Vailathur-Tirur region.
Ramanattukara is on higher ground, it’s safer from floods and is part of the government’s master plan to develop Kozhikode. More than geography, it is a significant step up the class ladder.
But for Lakshmi, the appeal is different.
“When I go looking for plots in my area, they recognise me and inflate the price,” she said.
She turned to Ramanattukara on the recommendation of her niece “She said there’s a cheap plot of land there. I’ve gone to take a look at it but I’m waiting for my brothers to also take a look before the decision is made,” said Lakshmi.
The lottery has allowed them to dream a little.
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Lottery brings worry
For the members of the Parappanangadi municipal corporation, the 11 women are a source of pride and prestige. They are also enjoying the national attention the lottery win has brought to their corporation.
“They are one of the most hardworking teams working here, and we are happy that they won the lottery. They want to continue working here, and it shows their dedication,” said A Usman, Parappanangadi municipality chairman.
And unlike their neighbours back home, their co-workers are happy to celebrate the good fortune of the women. Even their colleague Ganga who missed out on the winning pool, does not show any sign of resentment. She did not have Rs 25 to spare when Radha was collecting money. Borrowing from her colleagues didn’t cross her mind because she wasn’t expecting a win.
“There’s no tension here at all. The whole team, all of us, are like family,” said Leela.
The winners’ extended family members have approached them, asking for money. But after paying debts, and buying or repairing houses, and setting aside money for health and education, there’s not much left.
“We’ve also been told there’s some GST to be given after six months, so we need money in the account,” said Leela.
But they did organise a lavish Onam sadya for all the employees and officers in the municipality office. They also organised a separate feast for friends and neighbours.
Those who want to borrow from them and those who are jealous of them are all only looking at the women as moneybags. But the lottery brings worry too.
“They should also win the lottery, then only they’ll understand the difficulty of it,” Leela said.
(Edited by Theres Sudeep)