01-05/09
We had crossed our third year of existence in 2001 and it was yet another of those hectic days at the microfinance institution (MFI). Perched on the second floor of a building we were managing with just four rooms and most of the time the hustle & bustle at my office would remain till late in the evening. Women customers would be flocking in to either remit their EMIs or to avail fresh loans. With a penchant for timely remittance all our customers were maintaining 100% repayment. Groups were in tact, unhindered by any external influences and were maintaining the peer pressure at the core of their activities and loyalty of the individual members towards their group, their NGO and the MFI was at its best at that point of time.
The first thing I did, when I transformed from a rural development banker to a CEO of a MFI, was to see that I was not cut off from my customers at any cost. I still do not remember having closed the door of my room for any matter. My customers had the freedom to walk in at any time to express their grievances or to exchange pleasantries.
It was around noon that day, when one of my team members came to me and informed that leaders of one of the groups in her area of operation wanted to meet me. This team member of mine was made of a sterner stuff and was known for her meticulous and tactful handling of any situation in the field or in the office. I had never seen her so gloomy and depressed as she guided the president, secretary and treasurer of the group to my room. All three of them also looked serious and the usual bountiful smile was missing.
The president started of with a question, “Do you remember Stella (name changed) the lady in our group who took a loan for her husband’s centering work?” (Centering work: wooden materials and bamboo shafts used at the time of RCC work on ceilings of buildings for retention of the ceiling). After hearing from me in the affirmative she continued, “She was admitted last week in the hospital for delivery of her baby when Stella had to receive the news of her husband’s death in a work related accident. Her husband had gone to the neighbouring state of Kerala for carrying out a centering work. When he was dismantling the bamboo shafts he got hit by one of them and had died of head injuries. Stella was still in the hospital when we went to see her.” She pulled the free end of her sari and wiped the tears while we all were looking at her stunned. How God could be so cruel, I thought.
The lady continued her narration, “As was our custom in the village we offered her some money which she asked us to keep it under her pillow. Consoling Stella, we were about to leave her when she asked us to wait for a minute. She rolled on to the other side of the bed and pulled out something from under the other side of the pillow and gave it to us. She gave us her monthly EMI and asked us to pay it for the month.” As she said this the other two ladies were already in tears and so also my colleague. I was upset too and my eyes got filled with tears. I consoled the ladies and assured them of our assistance to the bereaved member of their group. They left behind gloominess in my heart. Eventually we had assisted the member in settling an insurance claim. But the spontaneous act of loyalty by the lady despite her state of distress had shaken me and my colleagues for some days.
This is one episode that could shatter the views of people who still believe that the poor cannot repay loans. I had narrated this time and again at many trainings on Microfinance.
We had crossed our third year of existence in 2001 and it was yet another of those hectic days at the microfinance institution (MFI). Perched on the second floor of a building we were managing with just four rooms and most of the time the hustle & bustle at my office would remain till late in the evening. Women customers would be flocking in to either remit their EMIs or to avail fresh loans. With a penchant for timely remittance all our customers were maintaining 100% repayment. Groups were in tact, unhindered by any external influences and were maintaining the peer pressure at the core of their activities and loyalty of the individual members towards their group, their NGO and the MFI was at its best at that point of time.
The first thing I did, when I transformed from a rural development banker to a CEO of a MFI, was to see that I was not cut off from my customers at any cost. I still do not remember having closed the door of my room for any matter. My customers had the freedom to walk in at any time to express their grievances or to exchange pleasantries.
It was around noon that day, when one of my team members came to me and informed that leaders of one of the groups in her area of operation wanted to meet me. This team member of mine was made of a sterner stuff and was known for her meticulous and tactful handling of any situation in the field or in the office. I had never seen her so gloomy and depressed as she guided the president, secretary and treasurer of the group to my room. All three of them also looked serious and the usual bountiful smile was missing.
The president started of with a question, “Do you remember Stella (name changed) the lady in our group who took a loan for her husband’s centering work?” (Centering work: wooden materials and bamboo shafts used at the time of RCC work on ceilings of buildings for retention of the ceiling). After hearing from me in the affirmative she continued, “She was admitted last week in the hospital for delivery of her baby when Stella had to receive the news of her husband’s death in a work related accident. Her husband had gone to the neighbouring state of Kerala for carrying out a centering work. When he was dismantling the bamboo shafts he got hit by one of them and had died of head injuries. Stella was still in the hospital when we went to see her.” She pulled the free end of her sari and wiped the tears while we all were looking at her stunned. How God could be so cruel, I thought.
The lady continued her narration, “As was our custom in the village we offered her some money which she asked us to keep it under her pillow. Consoling Stella, we were about to leave her when she asked us to wait for a minute. She rolled on to the other side of the bed and pulled out something from under the other side of the pillow and gave it to us. She gave us her monthly EMI and asked us to pay it for the month.” As she said this the other two ladies were already in tears and so also my colleague. I was upset too and my eyes got filled with tears. I consoled the ladies and assured them of our assistance to the bereaved member of their group. They left behind gloominess in my heart. Eventually we had assisted the member in settling an insurance claim. But the spontaneous act of loyalty by the lady despite her state of distress had shaken me and my colleagues for some days.
This is one episode that could shatter the views of people who still believe that the poor cannot repay loans. I had narrated this time and again at many trainings on Microfinance.
