Sir,
She lives with her brother Tashi Choki, who is barely 16. Together they run a household holding House No. 91. They have to participate in every community work as others do. So, although her brother is underage, he puts on all his effort to make sure they have enough to eat at home. They rear two cows, three pigs, five hens and one cock. They have a land holding of three acres where they grow maize, paddy and cardamom.
I am talking about Tashi Yangzo, who should have just completed her 13th birthday. The brother and the sister were born to father Pao Gaytse, 30, and mother Samten, 28, at Geompa village, Metekha geog under Chukha dzongkhag. But they ran out of luck when their mother expired leaving them young and vulnerable, and for that matter to survive on their own.
Soon, without mother, their father went after other women finally to get married at Medingkha, approximately 10 kilometers away from them. With time, the father had to raise another set of his family. When he couldn’t divide his time and love between the two families, he chose to remain with his new family. Thus, Tashi Yangzo and her brother were left to survive on their own.
Until then their living grandpa was their benefactor. He did all he could to leave behind his two grandchildren stable. He built them good house and even did the CGI roofing. He knew his time was closing in and it must have been difficult to breathe his last when he knew he was leaving behind two minors to live on their own. Yet, time and tide wait for none. He had no option than to breathe his final air in. On his death bed, he assured that they were strong and advised them to live adamantly.
Tashi Yangzo, in her rag, who gave the impression to me of being too diminutive and vulnerable to take care of the domestic chores, is still cooking a Khuli (buckwheat cake) and presents me with a piece. I was engrossed interviewing her but she has not much time. Her brother is out in the field harvesting cardamom. He will before long return famished and worn-out. She ought to cook him the meals with what little stock they have. She has just fed the pigs and toward the evening, she has to go and collect their cattle from the forest.
Going around in their rooms, I find very few clothes in the old black wodden boxes. On the ceiling is some maize corn hanging, a community’s fashion of seed storage. I settle back to Khuli. In the kitchen, they have few pots, four plates and two mugs. The kitchen utensils are just enough for the two of them.
“As a child,� she tells me a tale, “I always wanted to go to school like other children. But due to financial problems, I couldn’t attend the formal education.� “But,� she continues, “I am enrolled for the non-formal education and I can now read Dzongkha alphabets.� That is very obvious, I thought, from lots of Ka, Kha, scribbling they have done on the plank walls. The door reads, Joenpa Legso (welcome) in jagged Dzongkha handwriting.
When they run low of the stock at home, they resort to buy stuffs from Kungkha, a day-walk market from their village. They purchase basic stuffs like rice, salt, chilies and other necessities.
“What about the Community work? Are you exempted from it,� I ask. Yangzo, with her head low mumbles, “Once he was called for carrying the dho (baggage of some officials on tour) from his gung (village). He was loaded with 40 kilograms since that’s the minimum luggage they must carry. Soon, he sweated profusely from the weight when he had to keep pace with other grown-ups. His frail and tender legs started trembling and when this could go on no more, he fell on the ground and kept crying.�
Through these hard times came the light at the end of the tunnel. Ashi Dorji Wangmo Wangchuck, the founder of the Tarayana Foundation, while on her tour, looking for the disadvantaged lot in the villages found them. Her Majesty adopted them as the beneficiary of the Foundation. Now, they receive a monthly remuneration of Nu 700 (Nu 350 each). “This helps us a lot,� Tashi beams with a light smile and continues, “When we run short of salt, kerosene and other basic needs, we use the money to procure them.�
When she knew that I come from town, she wished to convey her deep gratitude to Her Majesty. She wants to say that the money Ashi sends them helps them a lot. She is also indebted to Ashi for exempting them from the community work until her brother attains the age of 18. “Now he doesn’t have to cry as he did before,� she says with relief.
I did not want to claim much of her precious time. Moreover, she looks little timid. Presenting her a monetary soelra (gift) I thank for the time she has given me. With the last of Khuli in my mouth, I return to my station. I leave them my sincere prayers for a brighter future.
Ugyen Tshering Forest Ranger, Chukha. Source: Bhutan Times
