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| Tamilselvi in her auto |
Tamilselvi on becoming an auto driver
About one percent of auto drivers in Chennai are women. S Tamilselvi, in her mid-fifties, is one of them. She lives in Kundrathur, Chennai.
At age 45, Tamilselvi lost her housekeeping job. She had taken a long leave for her daughter’s delivery, after which the contracting company that employed her refused to take her back. There was no hope of getting a similar job, as workers above the age of 30 are not hired for such jobs. As a single woman, Tamilselvi was at a dead-end.
Some time before that, she had seen a woman auto driver near Central station. The memory stuck with her because she liked the idea of driving. With no other employment options available, she decided to learn how to drive.
She said: “Intha thozhil eppodhum irukkum. This job skill I will always have with me. There is no boss. I don’t need to take permission to take leave.” When she started learning to drive, everybody made fun of her, ‘at this age, you are learning to drive’, they would say. “Today those same people have taken rides with me. I have even driven at midnight. In this job, we can travel like gents,” she said.
For many women drivers, driving has been a way of overcoming fears and stereotypes and feeling confident.
Rise and fall of the profession
In the absence of other employment options, driving an auto is turning into a self-employment option for women.
Gig companies have made it easier for women to start driving autos. Traditionally, auto drivers waited at stands for customers. Women have not been able to break into these. Even today, there is not a single stand that women drivers are part of. Not only that, every woman driver I talked to said, “we are chased away even if we park at a small distance from an auto stand”. Gig companies, on the other hand, encouraged women to join their platforms.
On the flip side, the proliferation of gig autos has also brought a collapse of incomes. Gig companies are incentivized to have an over-supply of autos and drive down fares, and there is no regulation on the numbers.
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| Muthulakshmi and her auto |
Muthulakshmi on the daily struggle
S Muthulakshmi, an auto driver from Kannagi Nagar (Chennai), said, “innikki pona, innikki pozhappu, day to day, we live hand to mouth. It is always a struggle.”
In such a situation, larger expenses, such as auto repair or paying children’s tuition fees force the drivers to take loans from non-formal sources. Such loans, called thandal (the name originates from the fact that the debt collector goes house to house collecting payments), have very high interest rates, such as 4-5 percent per month.
In spite of the low incomes, auto driving continues to be attractive for women for the time flexibility it offers. “I drive for a few hours and my husband takes over in the evening when he comes back from work”, said Muthulakshmi.
Before starting to drive an auto at the age of 35, Muthulakshmi had been a cook and domestic worker for many years. When her employers moved out of Chennai, she did not have many employment options besides auto-driving, as she had only studied up till 6th standard.
The union
Although Tamilselvi and Muthulakshmi are just gig drivers, they are both part of a union for women auto drivers, called Veera Pengal Munnetra Sangam (VPMS), that has about 500 members.
The VPMS union was officially registered in April 2024, but it has existed as an informal collective of women drivers for several years. It started out as a Whatsapp group, through which women supported each other. When a group member saw another woman auto driver on the road, she would flag the auto down and exchange numbers, and add the new person to the group. In case of an accident, a vehicle breakdown, an altercation, or any other emergency on the road, members could post on the group, and whoever was nearby would show up to help.
Group members also help each other in other ways. Once, an older group member connected Muthulakshmi to a Tamil actor, who paid off one of her thandal (high interest) loans. “Soon after that, my father-in-law passed away, and we had to borrow for the death expenses. We could borrow, because the earlier loan had been cleared”, she said. Paying off a loan often just creates the ability to take a new loan.
The issue of indebtedness is a tricky one, which an informal network, or even a union, is not equipped to handle. Minor incidents can lead to debt piling up, driving workers to the brink, as happened to Tamilselvi.
Tamilselvi’s experience with ballooning loans
In January 2024, Tamilselvi had a fall and injured her hip. She could not drive for four months. She couldn’t pay her monthly installments of 10,000 rupees on the auto loan; these and other interest payments added up, and suddenly she owed 50,000 rupees. She was desperately posting appeal videos, hoping to find a donor who would help her out of the situation, by possibly lending her the amount interest-free.
“My son is not well. Mana azhuthathula irukkan. He is suffering from mental stress. He has not been able to work regularly. I have to support his family too, he has a baby daughter,” she said in an appeal video on Instagram.
Other pending expenses weighed on her mind. She told me, “my auto’s fork is bent because of which the vehicle pulls in one direction, and my shoulder hurts. All 3 tyres are worn out, I am putting off the repairs and managing. The auto’s fitness certificate is expired. I am yet to buy the yearly insurance. I need a new phone. My phone often freezes, without that, I can’t get rides on Ola and Uber.”
She continued, “when we subtract all these expenses from our earnings, the income is the same as what typical workers (such as in housekeeping) get, it is just around 10-15,000 rupees per month. Then, when there are unexpected expenses, we borrow. That’s how the family runs for single women.”
She paused, and then said, “Write the story of my life, the sad story of my life.”
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| Tamilselvi taking a break on a hot day. |
Tamilselvi’s long struggle
“My husband left me for another woman in 1992. My daughter was 26 days old. I have raised both my children. Initially, I did domestic work. Later I got a job in housekeeping and security. I did those jobs for 18 years.”
A single working woman like Tamilselvi often ends up supporting various members of her family.
She said, “I spent Rs 5 lakhs for my mother’s medical expenses. She lived till 85. I even took care of the death related expenses.”
“In 2015, my grandson was born. My daughter was sick, and I had to take care of her. That’s when I lost the security job. For three months, I kept trying to get the job back.”
“I am in this position today after so much struggle. Innum dhairyam vidalai. Even now, I have not lost hope. I still think I can get out of all this. I just have a year more of loan repayments.”
Tamilselvi on her son
At the time (2024), Tamilselvi was also supporting her son’s family. Her son was not able to work because of mental health issues. Tamilselvi felt sympathetic, and she felt it was her duty to help him.
She said, “he is a very good boy. He didn’t study. He has been working since age ten, and since that time, he has been helping me run the household. He worked small jobs such as a helper in a shop, or as an office boy, or in housekeeping. He started driving an auto to earn more. We were doing fine, both of us working, and repaying whatever loans we took.”
“Then Corona hit, and for six months we could not work. Loan repayments were due, rent was due, the electricity bill was due. My son had some credit card loans at that time. The interest on those multiplied. From 1 lakh, the amount owed became 1.5 lakh, it was as if we had not repaid anything.”
“That stressed out my son. Then he got married two years ago. There were problems between him and his wife . Then, we had to spend for his wife’s delivery, and the loans became huge. He got into a state of extreme panic. He collapsed. Since then he has been like this. His behaviour changes suddenly. He would stop working. He just stays quiet, not talking to anybody.”
“I let him be and let him do what he wants. One day if he wants to rest, he can just do that. Another day he may go to work. Sometimes when he can't get customers, he pulls aside and sits.”
“I was in a similar state of stress when my husband left me. I had small children. At that time, my mother was a support for me. In a similar way, I will be a support for my son now. Back then, I would sit and think for a long time, ‘how can I earn, how can I bring up my children’. I would sit at home thinking for hours. ‘What will happen to my children. I am young, but why am I like this? Why did I get married?’ Caught up in these thoughts, sometimes I wouldn't eat. Sometimes, I would feel faint. At that time, my mother stayed with me and took care of me, and I recovered. She worked in weaving, and she supported us with her income. Now I must support my son with my income.”
Tamilselvi on feeling alone in difficult times
As she simultaneously faced mounting loans and her son’s mental state, Tamilselvi felt alone. There were no friends or family with whom she could talk about her problems.
“If I tell people about my loan problems, even those in the (union) group, they would listen, and later make fun of me behind my back saying I borrowed recklessly,” she said.
“When I feel I can’t take the stress, I just go to a temple. I cry, I tell my story, I pour my heart out. I sit there for hours. I don’t care which God it is. I go to the Kundrathur Murugan temple, or the San Thom church.”
“Once I was at Marina beach. That was the time when I had lost my security job (in 2015). I didn’t know the way forward. I sat there contemplating. I thought of just walking into the sea. Then suddenly something changed. I can’t leave my son alone, I thought and I changed my mind.”
“That night when my son had a breakdown (in 2023), he wanted to commit suicide. I was shouting, his wife was shouting. We didn’t know what to do. Then, I called Mohana and talked to her. She calmed me down. She also talked to my son. She came and met me the next day. She didn't help with money, but she talked to us. I will never forget how she helped us at that time. At that moment we didn't have anybody of our own. I tell God, ‘you came in her form that day’.”
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| Mohana |
Mohana, for all the women drivers
Mohana Sundari is the thalaivar (leader) of the VPMS union. She is passionate about making the driving profession work for women.
She lists some of her hopes and demands. “Auto drivers should have access to credit at reasonable interest rates. Even housekeeping staff get loans based on their salary, then why not us? If that happens, we can manage with a monthly salary of 12,000. Instead, now we spend all our lives paying interest, never getting around to the principal.”
She goes on, “While driving, we often don’t have space to park, we are chased away by male auto drivers from various spots. There are no restrooms, and as a result, there are health issues.”
“When we fall sick, if we go to the government hospital, we have to get admitted to get treated. Then we would lose our daily customers, like school rides. As a result, we keep driving, ignoring our health problems. We need access to health care that works for us.”
“We need to be able to support individual drivers in times of emergencies – like an accident or a death in the family.”
“I don’t know how to solve these problems, but if all of us come together, we are more likely to find solutions.”
She has had successes – the VPMS union was registered through her efforts. Registering the union has helped members avail government subsidies, such as a Rs 1 lakh subsidy to buy an auto. Union funds can also provide some financial support to members in emergencies.
Mohana brings her entrepreneurial spirit to the union – in the past she has run a food stall and a beautician business. She is hoping they can run a worker-owned business that provides driving services to companies and individuals. She is also exploring if the drivers can collectively have their own ride-hailing app.
Mohana continues to support women drivers at a personal level. Like Tamilselvi, many women auto drivers are the sole earners of their family, and many have nowhere to turn to in times of distress. At the time I met Mohana, she was housing Revathi, an auto driver who, along with her children, had no place to go after being forced to leave her husband’s house. Nobody would rent to a single mother who is an auto driver. Mohana housed her, and then helped her find a place to rent.
“I know of women auto drivers who have slept in their autos because they had nowhere to go”, says Mohana. “She will keep ten people like me in her house”, says Revathi.
Tamilselvi, a few months later
Tamilselvi managed to find somebody who gave her an interest-free loan of Rs 50k. She said, “raising the 50,000 rupees pushed me to the brink. I didn’t know what to do. Now I feel so different. At the end of the day, it was just some money that was owed. I have faced so much more.”
Everyone together
The stresses of a low-paying job with fluctuating income levels gets reflected in the day to day remarks of women auto drivers.
“It’s a hot day, and there are no customers.”
“Uber gives 100 rs for a ride that should actually be worth Rs 200, and I have to drive 3 km for the pick-up.”
“The app gave the customer a 10-rupee discount, which I had to bear.”
“I can no longer drive my auto without replacing the tyres, and I have no money right now.”
“I will somehow keep driving and driving, driving and driving to pay back the loans.”
“My mother is sick”,
“my son is sad”,
“the school fees are due..”
“I can’t ever take a Sunday off to take my children out.”
“I had no money today. A customer realized I was not doing well. He bought me lunch.”
“I had a flat tyre, other drivers on the road helped me replace it.”
“I wish someone would pay off my auto loan.”
But hope keeps them going:
“My loans will end in a year.”
And they feel good about driving:
“If I didn’t have the loans, driving an auto would give me joy. After doing rides worth Rs 1000, if I could say, ‘it is enough for today’, rather than feverishly try to hit Rs 1500, then I would be happy.”
“The other day when my neighbor was sick, I drove them to the hospital late in the night”
And there is solidarity: In Mohana’s words,
“This is a good profession for women. It offers them some flexibility to look after the family alongside work. If not for exploitative apps, and if not for the high interest rates on loans, we can make it work. Together, we have to find ways to make it work for us. Adhu thaan en aasai, adhu thaan en veri. That is my wish, that is my obsession.”
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