What it takes to be a trans entrepreneur in a world that can't get past prejudices

The one constant in Kolahal village in Karnataka’s Chitradurga district is the steady vehicular movement and its accompanying noise.

The village — around 250 km from the southern state’s capital city Bengaluru — is nestled along the busy National Highway-48. Small huts amidst the agricultural fields are the markers of its rural identity. Kolahal — with around 5,000 inhabitants — is a “typical Indian village” where nothing much happens as villagers have learnt to live an invisible life.

It was this assurance of safety and restfulness provided by Kolahal which attracted trans entrepreneur Arundhati (who goes by her first name only) to start her small goat farm in the village in 2020.

The challenges were many — the foremost being the financial hardship — but the 39-year-old was determined to start a new life and business in the village. She shifted her base from another village — Ragimuddanahalli —in Mandya district around 200 km from Kolahal —right after the first lockdown during the coronavirus pandemic.

The fact that the locals did not create problems because of her gender identity and allowed her to build her home and trade in the village came as a big relief to her. Arundhati paid Rs 1,50,000 for the piece of land where she started her goat-rearing enterprise.

Today, she questions her three-year-old decision. “My business collapsed after thieves came and took away my livestock. Because of the burglary, I lost everything — my livelihood, hard work and time,” Arundhati told The Federal with a stoic look.

On October 25 evening, when a gang of thieves attacked her animal farm, Arundhati was away from the village. She lost 43 goats and five sheep. Chitradurga’s Bharamasagara Police Station, investigating the loot, estimated that Arundhati incurred a loss worth Rs 8.5 lakh.

These days, Arundhati spends most of her time sitting on the porch of her one-room house and contemplating her future. Till recently, she was earning a profit of at least Rs 10,000 per month from her animal farm.

Despite her loss, she is not yet ready to surrender. There is still a glimmer of hope to resurrect her rural enterprise. Arundhati is not new to setbacks — both in her personal and professional life. “Failures are part and parcel of the transgender community. It is never easy to be a trans person. It is equally difficult to be a trans entrepreneur,” said the trans woman.

Arundhati’s journey of starting a goat farm encapsulates the struggles of trans people from across India to earn their livelihood with dignity. The transgender, or hijra, community members are mostly engaged in sex work or begging.

Stigma, poverty and lack of education are impediments to their employment opportunities. The lack of job opportunities, skill development and education for the community is against the Supreme Court’s 2014 National Legal Services Authority (NALSA) verdict which guarantees reservation in jobs for the sexual minority.

The 39-year-old broke several barriers to establish her small but successful startup before misfortune hit her. It is not once but twice she set up an animal-rearing enterprise and both times it folded.

Recently when The Federal met her at Kolahal village, she said that her first tryst with entrepreneurship started in 2016 with just three goats in Ragimuddanahalli village. In four years (2016-2020), the number of goats increased to 25 before her project went kaput during the pandemic.

Arundhati is once again looking forward to restarting her business — her third attempt to raise an animal farm. “I need financial help as I have no savings,” she said.

Previously, on both occasions, she established her animal farm with her savings as it is nearly impossible for any trans person to avail bank loans. The Karnataka government’s rehabilitation package for transgender persons which provides financial assistance of Rs 50,000 is marred by bureaucratic hassles, alleged transgender rights activist Nisha Gulur. “Moreover, the money is too little to start any business,” Gulur added.

It is estimated that over the years, the Karnataka government, under various political parties, has spent at least Rs 30 crore in the scheme but failed to create any sustainable venture for trans people. Activists allege that one-time small financial help by the government can’t enable trans people, who are often untrained and lack financial knowledge, to start businesses.

Arundhati’s desire to restart her goat farm seems impossible but she is not giving up. Her fight for survival is one constant in her life. Despite having a master’s degree in sociology from Mysore University, Arundhati failed to land a government or a private job. “It is the stigma of being a transgender which never allows us to have a dignified source of income,” she added.

At a recent press conference in Bengaluru, hosted by Movement for Gender and Sexual Diversity, a pan-Karnataka campaign to protect the rights of sexual minorities, the issue of theft of livestock and loss of livelihood of Arundhati was raised. The co-chairs of the campaign, Vaishali (who goes by her first name only) and Ashwini Rajan, both trans women, demanded the police and administration of Chitradurga district take the matter seriously and arrest the burglars.

“We want justice for Arundhati. Otherwise, we will start a protest,” said Vaishali. Rajan added that Arundhati was a role model for the community. “She raised her enterprise on her own without any support from the government.”

All her life, Arundhati, despite her regular financial struggles, refused to surrender and take up begging or sex work.

“There is nothing wrong in begging or sex work. Most often trans women are engaged in begging or sex work as doors to all the other sources of income are closed to them. However, both these professions involve a lot of risks, violence, harassment and humiliation from both law enforcement agencies and the public at large,” said Gulur, who identifies herself as a trans woman.

Arundhati’s attempt to restart her goat farm in Kolahal village got support from Bengaluru-based NGO Sangama. Sangama has started an online campaign to raise funds for the rural entrepreneur. Sangama works with the transgender community, sexual minorities and sex workers in Karnataka. The NGO believes that Arundhati is fighting a lonely battle for her community members.

“She represents her whole community and thus she needs support to rebuild her livelihood project. If she succeeds, she will inspire more trans people to become entrepreneurs, especially in rural areas,” said Sangama founder and adviser Manohar Elavarthi.

In Karnataka, there are an estimated 1,00,000 transgender people. Out of them, less than one per cent have jobs either in government bodies or private companies. This is despite Karnataka being the first state in the country to notify a one per cent reservation in government jobs for transgender persons, in 2021.

In the hinterlands of Karnataka, around 28 trans persons are successfully running their independent ventures, mostly small, thanks to the entrepreneurship programme started by Sangama four years ago. Under the programme, along with skill development and financial literacy, trans entrepreneurs are provided hand-holding by their mentors for two years till they are able to run their business successfully.

Sangama has also formed 48 self-help groups (SHGs) for the community members in various districts as a part of the programme. The SHGs and national banks have provided loans to start these enterprises. Sangama gives each business person a cash assistance of Rs 10,000. However, to nurture the entrepreneurs, the NGO stated that it has spent at least Rs 1,50,000 on each individual. Right from grocery shops to dairy farms, these income-generation avenues have changed the lives of several trans people in small villages and towns of Karnataka.

A trans entrepreneur from a village in Raichur district, who did not wish to be named, told The Federal that her roti (bread)-making business has changed her life forever. “I earn a profit of at least Rs 40,000 per month by selling rotis. I have come a long way from being harassed and discriminated against for my gender identity to earning the respect of my village people for successfully running my venture,” she added.

Back in Kolahal, the barn, a few steps away from Arundhati’s one-room house, stands empty. The dry dung strewn all over the floor of the animal shelter is a bitter-sweet reminder of her effort to start a business from scratch. On the fateful night, six kids ran away to a nearby cornfield and saved themselves from being smuggled by the thieves.

These days, they stay on the porch of Arundhati's house.