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Over 12 months, we interviewed 30 couples to better understand the challenges facing smallholder farmers today. This is the tenth in a series of blogs based on those interviews. Names and faces have been changed to protect privacy. Photo has been AI generated.

This was a difficult year for Reyansh and Aestha, a middle-age couple in Uttar Pradesh, who make a living farming a small plot of land inherited from Reyansh’s family and selling cow and buffalo milk. This year, a flood took out the crop they were growing on additional land leased from a neighbor, resulting in a loss of anticipated income, loss of initial investment, and, since the land was not their own, they are not eligible for relief from flood insurance.

“We fall from all sides,” Reyansh, 52, says grimly. “If a person is totally depending on agriculture then he won’t be able to bounce back. If the farm is your own, then it’s alright, but if you are on contract or something then you don’t have a chance.” He continues, “The poor will remain poor and the rich will be rich.”

His wife Aastha, 48, reiterates her husband’s frustration with their current position in life. “Poor families have to work as labor,” she says. “(They) can’t meet the basic daily needs in distress situations. Economically rich families stay in peace; they can overcome financial hurdles very easily, but a poor family has to deal with a lot of problems.” Aastha continues, “Financial problems in a poor family seems like a hill, but that is not an issue for wealthy people. It will be a disaster for the poor family if any financial crisis arises.”

Reyansh says that beyond the flood, obtaining water is their number one struggle, as the couple’s land is dependent on a water source owned by their neighbor, who at times may or may not agree to share with them. “Water problems are there,” Reyansh says with resignation. He explains their other major challenge comes from animals coming onto their land and destroying their crops. “Suppose you sow bottle gourd and lady finger (okra), then the saas (wild animals) and Nilgai (large antelope) will eat it,” he says. “So there is a difficulty due to that.”

In order to mitigate potential losses, Aastha explains that they have multiple income streams. Her oldest son works in the private sector and contributes to the family, her husband earns money as a bus driver, and she “is into (the) cattle business,” Aastha says. She sells milk twice a day and keeps some for the family, a reliable food source even when food prices are high. She says they typically break even after paying expenses, but fluctuating prices make it difficult to budget. “For example, today the milk is cheaper and vegetables are expensive, I have to manage the cost by the help of selling milk. I cannot borrow because I don't want to take the burden of repayment,” she says.

Reyansh sees wisdom in combining farming with animal husbandry; they grow food for the livestock on their own land, then in turn use the animal’s manure as fertilizer on the farm. And although farming carries inherent risk, Reyansh appreciates that he is always able to feed his family. In the private sector, he explains, if you don’t work, you don’t get paid. “The company is not going to give you money if you don't work,” he says. “The benefit of doing agriculture is that you don't have to go for food anywhere or to anyone for food, you can (grow) your food yourself.”

When asked what other type of work he would prefer, Reyansh answers without hesitation. “I would like to do cattle breeding,” he says, noting that the time spent farming is significantly longer than what would be required to manage cattle on a larger scale. “If I do cattle breeding then I’ll be able to spend time with my family,” says the father of three. “The most important thing is spending time with your family.”

One way to create more time would be to use mechanized farm equipment, like a baler or combine. This, Aastha says, would allow them to harvest the equivalent of 8 days manual labor in 2 hours. The problem, she says, is the prohibitively high cost of purchasing, or even renting the equipment from their local FPO (Baankelal Bio Energy or BBE). “It would be better if the machine is in the budget so it will benefit the farmer,” she says.

Because of her work with the animals, Aastha does not have time to help in the fields. “I don’t do anything else apart from rearing cattle,” she says. “This job takes a whole day to perform. After returning home I have to cook food, I have to clean the house… there is a lot of work to do.” She explains that the daily wages provided by selling the milk is helpful to meet day-to-day expenses, as her husband and her son only get paid once a month. “It helps me a lot to manage the daily needs of a family,” she says.

The couple are both members of the Other Backward Caste (OBC), and have completed just 6-8 years of schooling each. Her limited education is a source of frustration for Aastha: “Uneducated women can only deal in farming, cattle, and household works. What else can I do apart from managing cattle?! Educated people can do any work.” Aastha continues, “I can’t even be a laborer now because I am old.”

Despite the high cost, both Aastha and Reyansh are committed to supporting their children’s education - even if it means taking out loans or selling livestock - to ensure they have more options in life. “The admission for the boy in a good school is costly,” Aastha says. “He travels by bus, and I don’t have money for petrol for the car.” Their daughter is married and is doing well, Aastha says. “We have provided her with good education and have high hopes for her,” Aastha says proudly. “She doesn’t have any flaws; perhaps she will manage better than us.”

Although she strongly supports her own daughter’s education, Aastha has mixed feelings about the modernization of girls and women in India. “Compared to earlier times, today’s girls are worse,” she begins. “Educate the girls and they might run away from home. The more education, the more problems in society,” she says. Aastha explains that this does not apply to all women: “Out of 100 people, 90 do things right, but 10 create problems.” She cites mobile phones, substance abuse (including alcohol and heroin), and even the casual disregard for traditional footwear as signs of fraying morals in modern society. “People today have become less capable,” she says. “Even if you find a good girl, they can’t manage things well.”

Her husband weighs in, adding, “The laziness between men and women has increased to the extent that doing things themselves feels burdensome.” He says he now sees a lot more discontent among women who are managing traditional household roles like cooking, which, even with improved stoves, still feels to them like a heavy burden. And it’s not just the women who have changed. “In old times, men were good and now they have become lazy,” he says. “In my father’s time they would walk 3 kilometers without looking for any transport, whereas we can’t manage without transportation.” Reyansh continues, “Everyone has become lazy. We work for 2 hours, but they used to work for 6 hours. They used to work in farming all day long, whereas we leave after a short while,” he says.

And it’s not just laziness in farming; Reyansh believes people have become close-minded and self-interested in their ability to look at issues. “Nowadays, people only think about their own benefit,” he says. “In the past, men used to consider both the positives and negatives… making their words valuable. Today, however, the value of words has diminished.”

Despite their disappointments in modernity, both Aastha and Reyansh are pleased that women have more work opportunities than ever before. “I feel it is a good thing if women start working,” Aastha says. “If they are less educated they may work on farms and do small jobs at home, but if a woman is well educated, she can also become a DMO (District Medical Officer).

I feel this is their right and they should do it.” Reyansh agrees, “There is no work that a woman can’t do,” he says. “Any woman who is educated can take up any job that she wants to do. If she makes up her mind, she can become a Prime Minister!” However, the ideal working situation, according to Reyansh, is for a husband and wife to be able to work alongside each other. “If the family members can do their work together then what can be better than that?” he asks.

This teamwork mentality is shared by both Reyansh and Aastha in their decision-making at home. When asked if it was difficult to talk to their spouse about finances, both replied easily, “not at all.” As Reyansh explains, “Everything in the family happens jointly, with everyone’s opinion.” Aastha concurs, “My husband, me, and we have two children (involved), so the four of us, we discuss with each other and then decide what has to be done.”

Interestingly, when asked who makes the final decisions, each deferred to the other. “The final decision is of my husband,” Aastha says. “I sometimes think that, instead of sowing wheat, I want to sow mustard. But if my husband thinks that wheat has to be sown, then only wheat is sown.” Not so, says Reyansh. “It is my wife,” he insists. “Whatever decision my wife takes, it is for the benefit of the whole family.” He concludes with deference: “And her decision is better than my decision.”

When it comes to their participation in their FPO, the couple is less than enthusiastic. “We haven’t received any benefits from A-Z,” Aastha says. “We didn’t receive even fertilizer.” They claim to have never been called or personally invited to a meeting. And while they have never felt disrespected by FPO officers, Aastha says that the upper caste women look down on lower caste women who may attend the meetings. “They don’t look at us with bad intention but in a way that they feel they are superior,” she says. “They think that they are rich and we are poor.”

Aastha claims that since upper caste women never leave their homes, the officers have turned to lower caste women - some not even members of the FPO - to generate a crowd of women that would create an optic of inclusion. Because of this, Aastha says she and the women she knows do not attend the FPO meetings, but she would fully support her husband’s involvement. “I would be happy if my husband participates because he can at least bring in more information and share with me. In this way, I also get to know,” she says.

Sharing comes naturally to Reyansh and Aastha who, despite all the hardship, do find deep pride in farming. “There is one thing about being a farmer,” Reyansh says. “We are surely feeding our stomachs (but) we can also fill some other person’s stomach.” He continues, “Assume some beggar comes and he wants one fistful of rice; since it is from the farm, we can give it.” Reyansh is grateful that because of their cattle, he can also offer milk, chum (buttermilk), and ghee (clarified butter). “Whatever things we have in our house that are edible and we are growing it on our own, we can give it and we feel proud that we have it,” he says.

While they do not lack for food, unfortunately the couple is experiencing the effects of crippling debt. When asked the question, “I can enjoy life because of the way I’m managing my money,” Reyansh answered, “Very Little” and Aastha said, “Not at All.” They have had to take out loans and pawn gold to pay for costly medical treatments, and now plan to use their livestock in case of emergency, as they do not have any kind of health insurance plan. “Let’s say someone is ill in the house,” Reyansh says. “One option we have is that we will sell one of the animals and collect the money for treatment.” He says that by far the biggest household expenses they have are the children’s education and medicine/medical treatment, each requiring about half of their combined income, leaving virtually nothing left for savings or other emergencies.

One benefit of their son having a private sector job, Aastha explains, is that his fixed income creates confidence with their lender, so they are able to take out loans when needed. “Cows and buffalos may stop giving milk, but my son’s income does not vary,” she says matter-of-factly. They currently have loans out from three banks and two individuals, owing a total of 6 lakh ($7,200 USD); a crushing amount in a farming community where the average smallholder is lucky to generate 1 lakh in an entire year.

One of the health issues the family deals with is Aastha’s allergies, which she says give her “a little trouble.” This precludes her from helping harvest certain types of wheat due to the irritants in the chaff, but she finds other ways to contribute, and enjoys autonomy in her day-to-day life. “I wake up early and pack tiffin (a light lunch) for my husband and then I go to do my work. No one stops me; I do whatever I want to do.”

Aastha understands all too well her limitations - born into a lower caste, with limited education, living hand-to-mouth with impossible looming debts - but she is content, or at least accepting, of her situation. “I am satisfied,” she says honestly. “Maybe the earning is not sufficient but I manage.” She reflects on the troubles she has seen on the other side of the fence, where the grass is not as green as it may first appear. “Huge money brings chaos in mind,” she says. “I know how to stay happy with limited income. I always try to maintain that.” Besides, Aastha concludes, “Why should I keep thinking about that which is impossible to happen?”