They were raising their family in a village that had followed the

same patterns of agriculture and social customs for hundreds and

hundreds of years. People grew their food in their own vegetable

patches and paddy-fields. There were no medicines other than

traditional remedies, and scant communication with the outside

world. To be born a farmer meant to die as one, trapped in a cycle

of poverty that was bequeathed to the next generation, and in order

to survive famine, flooding and periodic attacks by bandits,

everyone worked doggedly towards a common goal – feeding and

clothing their families.

It was worse for women. That same patrilineal system of