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Coolie Woman: The Odyssey of Indenture
SHORTLISTED FOR THE ORWELL PRIZEIn 1903, a young woman sailed from India to Guiana as a "coolie"--the British name for indentured laborers who replaced the newly emancipated slaves on sugar plantations all around the world. Pregnant and traveling alone, this woman, like so many coolies, disappeared into history. Now, in Coolie Woman, her great-granddaughter Gaiutra Bahadur embarks on a journey into the past to find her. Traversing three continents and trawling through countless colonial archives, Bahadur excavates not only her great-grandmother's story but also the repressed history of some quarter of a million other coolie women, shining a light on their complex lives.Shunned by society, and sometimes in mortal danger, many coolie women were either runaways, widows, or outcasts. Many of them left husbands and families behind to migrate alone in epic sea voyages--traumatic "middle passages"--only to face a life of hard labor, dismal living conditions, and, especially, sexual exploitation. As Bahadur explains, however, it is precisely their sexuality that makes coolie women stand out as figures in history. Greatly outnumbered by men, they were able to use sex with their overseers to gain various advantages, an act that often incited fatal retaliations from coolie men and sometimes larger uprisings of laborers against their overlords. Complex and unpredictable, sex was nevertheless a powerful tool.Examining this and many other facets of these remarkable women's lives, Coolie Woman is a meditation on survival, a gripping story of a double diaspora--from India to the West Indies in one century, Guyana to the United States in the next--that is at once a search for one's roots and an exploration of gender and power, peril and opportunity.
313 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2013
225 people are currently reading
2722 people want to read
About the author
Gaiutra Bahadur
11 books68 followersGaiutra Bahadur is an American writer. She is the author of Coolie Woman: The Odyssey of Indenture, a personal history of indenture shortlisted in 2014 for the Orwell Prize, the British literary prize for artful political writing. Her debut fiction, the short story “The Stained Veil,” appears in the anthology Go Home! (New York: The Feminist Press at CUNY, 2018).
Gaiutra was born in Guyana and emigrated with her family to Jersey City, New Jersey when she was six years old. A lyric essay previewing her current book project, which explores the idea of America through its 20th-century entanglements with her home country, runs in the current issue of the Australian literary magazine The Griffith Review. Entitled “Tales of the Sea,” it is also reprinted in the anthology We Mark Your Memory.
She is a critic, essayist and journalist. Her work has appeared in The New York Times Book Review, The Nation, The Virginia Quarterly Review, Lapham’s Quarterly, The Boston Review, The Los Angeles Review of Books, Ms. Magazine, Dissent, Foreign Policy, The Guardian, The Washington Post and elsewhere, as well as in the essay anthologies Nonstop Metropolis and Living on the Edge of the World.
Gaiutra was born in Guyana and emigrated with her family to Jersey City, New Jersey when she was six years old. A lyric essay previewing her current book project, which explores the idea of America through its 20th-century entanglements with her home country, runs in the current issue of the Australian literary magazine The Griffith Review. Entitled “Tales of the Sea,” it is also reprinted in the anthology We Mark Your Memory.
She is a critic, essayist and journalist. Her work has appeared in The New York Times Book Review, The Nation, The Virginia Quarterly Review, Lapham’s Quarterly, The Boston Review, The Los Angeles Review of Books, Ms. Magazine, Dissent, Foreign Policy, The Guardian, The Washington Post and elsewhere, as well as in the essay anthologies Nonstop Metropolis and Living on the Edge of the World.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 92 reviews
April 29, 2020
Bahadur’s Coolie Woman is an intimate and harrowing work that braids the personal with the political, the historical with the present, narrating stories of Indian indentured women across three continents. So often the narrative of Indian migration is dominated by class/caste privileged experience of chosen migration (like my own family’s), glossing over the colonial indenture system – a form of debt bondage which brought 3.5 million Indians (the majority of whom were oppressed castes) as labor on plantations. After the British -technically- abolished slavery in 1833, they began to initiate indenture programs in its stead with ultimately over a million Indian people brought to the Caribbean from 1838. While indenture was continually narrated as distinct in rhetoric, in practice protective regulations were often ignored, exposing indentured peoples to extreme violation. Few records of indenture remain, but Bahadur takes this impossibility an invitation to write creatively, interspersing between memoir, history and political theory to trace the history of her great grandmother in Guyana – and by extension, the stories of so many indentured women. Rather than writing of Indo-Caribbean women as hapless victims, Bahadur both highlights the profound sexual violence and murder that these women faced, while also paying attention to the various ways they leveraged their intellect, labor and sexuality as a way to establish authority. This precise understanding of the gendered dynamics of migration is groundbreaking and has important implications beyond this work. She diligently untangles the archives to tell stories of refusal, escape, knowledge production, dreaming. One of the points she makes which I found most compelling was how the British would use domestic violence in Indian communities as a means to justify their racist characterization of Indians as morally corrupt. What was left unprovoked was the colonial systems (gendered ratio of indenture, regulation of sex work, imposition of Victorian sexual mores, etc.) that exacerbated domestic violence.
March 14, 2015
4.5 stars
Gaiutra Bahadur does a remarkable job in tracing the story of her great grandmother Sujaria, an indentured single woman who traveled from India in 1903 to work on a sugar plantation in Guyana. The narrative is a multi-layered exploration of exile, colonialism, gender dynamics in a world of mercilessly skewed gender ratios, the ensuing jealousies and violence against women spoiled for choice of sexual partners and the forging of a new community identity shaped in equal parts by what has been left behind, the terrors of the long ocean passage and the simultaneous deprivations and freedoms of the New World. It probes into the past and traces a continuum from there in which to locate the present.
The one thing that slowed and marred my reading of the book was the appallingly tiny font size used in the Indian edition of the book. Poor production values can take away from a book in such subtle, beneath the surface ways - making it a harder, denser book to navigate than it actually is.
Gaiutra Bahadur does a remarkable job in tracing the story of her great grandmother Sujaria, an indentured single woman who traveled from India in 1903 to work on a sugar plantation in Guyana. The narrative is a multi-layered exploration of exile, colonialism, gender dynamics in a world of mercilessly skewed gender ratios, the ensuing jealousies and violence against women spoiled for choice of sexual partners and the forging of a new community identity shaped in equal parts by what has been left behind, the terrors of the long ocean passage and the simultaneous deprivations and freedoms of the New World. It probes into the past and traces a continuum from there in which to locate the present.
The one thing that slowed and marred my reading of the book was the appallingly tiny font size used in the Indian edition of the book. Poor production values can take away from a book in such subtle, beneath the surface ways - making it a harder, denser book to navigate than it actually is.
June 13, 2015
As a researcher on a similar topic I'm thankful for the sources here but this text has little to do with an individual family history and more to do with a search for it in general historical terms that may or may not have actually been relevant in the agency and individual choices of the ancestors she seeks. Much like other diaspora research, there are about 50 pgs of speculation which undermines (for me) the power of the actual historical data that personalizes the social phenomena and the legacy of the commercial institution of indentureship. The particularities on Guyana were insightful, esp in relation to other Indo- communities within Caricom. With fewer rhetorical questions, this could have read as a more serious historical text rather than as a cathartic diary of sorts. Nevertheless, there's lots of good historical data and a strong bibliography to boot...
Read
January 2, 2014A work of remarkable excavation, shedding light on the history of indenture- not only as a system, but its impact on diaspora identity too.In this regard, one hopes Bahadur's efforts inspires further research into the system of indenture, which ostensibly served to replace slavery but may also have offered reprieve for the many Indian men and women boarding those ships. The desire, particularly for woman, to seek exile from their existing social predicaments- yet only to endure another form of subjugation all together- remains a constant focus for Bahadur. Motives, emotions and relationships are nigh impossible to discern, hence why the book is replete with rhetorical questions. Bahudur's longing curiosities about her ancestral past leaves a notable personal imprint on the page. Sadly, it seems Bahadur is left with more questions than answers following her undoubtedly exhausting journey (her research took her not only to the difficult terrains of the West Indies and India, but London and most surprisingly the Scottish highlands). Perhaps, this is not very sad at all, her efforts are rewarded with an invaluable insight into not only a system of bondage, but the lives entangled within it.
Bahadur-speaking at the South Asia Literature Festival- was asked why the book was written as a form of narrative history rather than fiction. Her background in journalism took precedence in this case, but the cast of characters and personal stories of tragedy and even occasional triumph would successfully lend itself to fiction. The book is a product of meticulous research coupled with the telling of a very personal journey- lending the work a weight of emotion and passion needed to bring these stories to light.
Bahadur-speaking at the South Asia Literature Festival- was asked why the book was written as a form of narrative history rather than fiction. Her background in journalism took precedence in this case, but the cast of characters and personal stories of tragedy and even occasional triumph would successfully lend itself to fiction. The book is a product of meticulous research coupled with the telling of a very personal journey- lending the work a weight of emotion and passion needed to bring these stories to light.
Read
August 8, 2014AMERICAN journalist Gaiutra Bahadur takes you on a journey through her family history and how as an Indian she came to live in America.
In 1903 her great-grandmother sailed from India to Guiana in South America to work as a coolie – the British name given to the millions of indentured labourers recruited to work on sugar plantations worldwide after slavery ended.
Bahadur’s great-grandmother was pregnant and travelling alone.
During that time Indian women were subjected to very strict religious and family rules. It was considered a bad omen for Indians to cross “dark waters” and leave their country – if they did, they were never allowed to return.
A widowed woman, now considered an untouchable, would be ostracised from her family almost immediately upon the death of her husband. Some committed suicide on their husband’s funeral pyre. Untouchables were victimised, taken advantage of by other family members and had no way of supporting themselves so often turned to prostitution.
Leaving for the colonies, was maybe a chance at a new life - even if this process was fraught with its own set of injustices and being taken advantage of.
Bahadur tries to get to grips with what pushed her great-grandmother to forsake India and cross the black waters. Her search provides an interesting, if somewhat sad, glimpse into the past as she tries to give a voice to the many voiceless coolie women.
In 1903 her great-grandmother sailed from India to Guiana in South America to work as a coolie – the British name given to the millions of indentured labourers recruited to work on sugar plantations worldwide after slavery ended.
Bahadur’s great-grandmother was pregnant and travelling alone.
During that time Indian women were subjected to very strict religious and family rules. It was considered a bad omen for Indians to cross “dark waters” and leave their country – if they did, they were never allowed to return.
A widowed woman, now considered an untouchable, would be ostracised from her family almost immediately upon the death of her husband. Some committed suicide on their husband’s funeral pyre. Untouchables were victimised, taken advantage of by other family members and had no way of supporting themselves so often turned to prostitution.
Leaving for the colonies, was maybe a chance at a new life - even if this process was fraught with its own set of injustices and being taken advantage of.
Bahadur tries to get to grips with what pushed her great-grandmother to forsake India and cross the black waters. Her search provides an interesting, if somewhat sad, glimpse into the past as she tries to give a voice to the many voiceless coolie women.
December 3, 2013
Outstanding book, at a superficial level its kind of an anthropological who-dun-it of looking back towards the Indian Diaspora in Br. Guyana from the indentured laborers imported there by the Brits, but at a deeper level, its about the immigrants angst, the forging of a sense of identity and the insightful clarity obtained when finally clear of the miasma-inducing haze. Outstanding!
October 28, 2014
A remarkable project of important historical research. Bahadur asks and finds answers to many of the tough, important and missing questions that comprise the identity of people like myself: constantly searching for a sense of self but unable to find attachment or connection to a firm identify due to a lack of knowledge of my forebears' lives and thus, my own history.
August 24, 2016
A superb work, merging autobiography, family history and careful archival research into the bowels of empire. The book is a perfect, powerful illustration of what it means to think historically—about gender, about culture, and about our strange world of migrant diasporas.
November 23, 2013
an incredibly readable and fascinating history and analysis. if I had read more history books written like this one, I'd be a historian. this book tells how the indenture institution was established and how women in particular under this system took on drastically different roles. using her personal story as a jumping off point, the author uncovers the context in which her great-grandmother left British Raj India to go to the Caribbean. The connection to slavery and colonialism is bare and necessarily twisted (and we deal with the aftermath today)[also note the connection to the Scottish highlands and the Irish potato famine]. I found this nonfiction book gripping and educational! I'm looking for more articles and pieces written by this author.
June 11, 2021
It's kind of like there are two books in here, occasionally in conflict. There is the personal story of Bahadur's family, and then there is the larger story of indenture, specifically but not limited to the path from India to Guyana. At times it feels like there should be more detail for the second book, and more resolution for the first, but both stories are intricately related.
Sometimes to deal with unknown information, she puts four or five questions together with speculation, and it gets repetitive, though it totally makes sense that the questions are important and also can't be resolved.
So, there were frustrations, but it is interesting overall, and important as well in seeing how reluctantly slavery was left behind, and not just in the United States.
Sometimes to deal with unknown information, she puts four or five questions together with speculation, and it gets repetitive, though it totally makes sense that the questions are important and also can't be resolved.
So, there were frustrations, but it is interesting overall, and important as well in seeing how reluctantly slavery was left behind, and not just in the United States.
February 20, 2018
What is commendable about this book is the research done by the author in the quest for tracing her roots. But the account has turned into more of a research paper than a personalized story of her great grandmother's leaving of India as a Coolie Woman.
The book comes out to be one of it's kind to put in detail little-known history of the indentures from India to Sugarcane Plantations under British Empire. The complexities shape life and morals of the indentures. Life is changed in the form unimaginable in India. Relations develop out of the need for survival. Exploitations on the voyage put a very gloomy picture of how coolies were treated anything but human.
The book comes out to be one of it's kind to put in detail little-known history of the indentures from India to Sugarcane Plantations under British Empire. The complexities shape life and morals of the indentures. Life is changed in the form unimaginable in India. Relations develop out of the need for survival. Exploitations on the voyage put a very gloomy picture of how coolies were treated anything but human.
March 29, 2023
A well researched book, must read.
November 14, 2023
The subject matter, history, and concept (part memoir, part history) are all very fascinating but I wish this was better written. The author has clearly done a lot of research and has a personal connection to the subject matter but struggled outlining the story they wanted to tell. The flow of the book became muddled as a result. The author also relies heavily on leading questions to beef up the content, to the point that whole paragraphs are written as leading questions, which was became very tiresome to read.
September 22, 2022
I loved the information in this book and how well it was researched. Just wished it had been written in a manor that did not seem like a research paper. I really think this book should be rated a two in a half star. Just wish the writing was better.
Made me sad that even when women are scarce they still lack power. Made me sad when men labeled these women as unclean they thought it ok to murder and/or mutilate them.
Made me sad that even when women are scarce they still lack power. Made me sad when men labeled these women as unclean they thought it ok to murder and/or mutilate them.
October 23, 2016
Words can't describe this heartbreaking and powerful account of Badahur's journey to shed light on her indentured ancestors. The story of these incredibly strong and brave women need to be told and Badahur does so expertly. Very tough to get through in places given the subject matter, but an absolute must read for anyone interested in Caribbean and Indian history.
June 23, 2019
Fascinating and eye opening look at the history of Indian indentured labour in the Caribbean. My great grandmother was a “coolie woman”.
April 15, 2024
Bahadur’s family history and mine overlapped in ways that were uncomfortably familiar. We could have been sisters.
And, so, although the basis of her book is her great-grandmother’s history in Guyana, it could easily have been my ancestors’ history in Trinidad.
Usually, when one thinks of “indentured servitude,” one conjures an anodyne scene out of Downton Abbey. How lovely.
Bahadur breathes new life into the indentured servants of the Caribbean and shows that their lives were anything but inoffensive.
Through her research, I appreciate my feminine ancestors, where I was once only mildly curious. Now, I am in awe of them: the life-changing decisions they made, the hardships they endured, the back-breaking and soul-crushing work they did, the violence they undoubtedly faced.
What wonderful women I come from. I’m so happy their stories are finally told.
And, so, although the basis of her book is her great-grandmother’s history in Guyana, it could easily have been my ancestors’ history in Trinidad.
Usually, when one thinks of “indentured servitude,” one conjures an anodyne scene out of Downton Abbey. How lovely.
Bahadur breathes new life into the indentured servants of the Caribbean and shows that their lives were anything but inoffensive.
Through her research, I appreciate my feminine ancestors, where I was once only mildly curious. Now, I am in awe of them: the life-changing decisions they made, the hardships they endured, the back-breaking and soul-crushing work they did, the violence they undoubtedly faced.
What wonderful women I come from. I’m so happy their stories are finally told.
June 17, 2025
An incredibly robustly researched, well written account of the indenture system in British colonial Guiana. Bahadur uses lyrical prose, rhetorical questions, and her own family history to bring a very intimate and personal lens to this history and to provide the women of the past with agency and possibilities that defy the colonial archive. She shows that history is political and the personal is indeed political too. Trigger warning: immensely upsetting accounts of intimate partner violence.
September 18, 2025
fckin crazy. gorg mix of non fiction and authors personal reflections
October 15, 2022
As a woman born in Trinidad, WI, I wanted to know more about the culture. It was a good book that gave me that information and more.
June 18, 2024
This book serves as an encyclopedia, providing a comprehensive understanding of the indenture system prevalent in Caribbean countries such as Guyana, Trinidad, and Suriname, as well as African countries such as Jamaica and Mauritius. In addition to being a repository of information, it's also a wonderful piece of literature that successfully captures the emotions of millions by recognizing them as victims of their colonizers.
The author’s great grandfather’s mother, Sujaria, had migrated to Guyana from Chapra in Bihar in 1903. Driven by her passion for tracing her roots, the author sets out to visit distant lands to see the places and meet the locals to understand the circumstances that would have compelled Sujaria to abandon her home. As an investigative journalist, she visits the Guyana National Archive, where she retrieves the Emigration Pass dated July 29, 1903, issued under the name of her great-grandmother. She also visits England's archives to learn more about her journey and the passage of time. She travels twice to her ancestral village in Chapra, Bihar. Her first visit in November 2005 turned out to be futile. She doesn't give up, though, and in the winter of 2008, she makes another attempt to find her roots when she is able to talk to the women of the family who say that their clan recites the name Sujaria at every family wedding. The fact that women customarily sing songs on the eve of a wedding, honoring all their ancestors going back five generations, comforts her. The thought that people will continue to use her name on such occasions touches her.
Initially, it appears that the novel is a coolie woman’s story that is specific to Guyana. Subsequently, the reader learns that the book is a well-researched analysis of every aspect of indenture, a practice prevalent in all the previously stated countries. She views both men and women who are coolies as fellow victims. She shows empathy for them by admitting that their egotistical colonial overlords used manipulation to make them appear morally right or wrong, moral or immoral, to support their own narrative.
In 1830, the British abolished the slavery system in many colonies, including Guyana, Trinidad & Tobago, and Jamaica. The colonizers desperately needed to replace slaves who could work in their cane fields. Therefore, they initiated the indenture system, employing Indian workers under contract for a duration of 3 to 5 years. The promise of adequate wages, a dignified life, and a safe return to India after their indenture period ended enticed the workers. Millions of poor Indians, mostly from Bihar and eastern Uttar Pradesh, left for these countries to work as indentured laborers. Their first assembly took place in Calcutta, from where the ships embarked on their three-month-long journey across the Bay of Bengal, Indian Ocean, and South Atlantic Ocean to reach their destination. Some of them died on the sea, while some others perished upon arriving at the farms. Those who survived had to live in hell. Those doomed to this hell were treated like slaves with no rights but duties.
The colonizers violated every condition of the contract, preventing the migrants from ever returning to their homeland. During the first decade of the twentieth century, moving tales of their sufferings began to arrive in India, which shook the consciences of the legendary freedom fighters. They began exerting pressure on the British Government to end this exploitative system, and their unwavering efforts led to the official abolition of the indenture system by the end of 1919. It is nonetheless noteworthy that the migration of Indian men and women, which had begun in 1838 when the Indians first arrived in the West Indies, continued until 1917, despite the horrifying tales of their miseries coming to India on a regular basis.
Many West Indian families went on to migrate to countries such as the US, Canada, Britain, and the Netherlands in search of a better future. But they would never forget the terrible experiences their ancestors endured during their initial migration under the indenture system. The author, too, left for the US at a young age with her parents in 1981, but she never forgot her home at Cumberland Village on the bank of the river Demerara in Guyana, where Sujaria took her last breath at the age of 89.
The work shocks us by exposing numerous truths that were prevalent in nineteenth-century Indian society, much like a historical piece. We neglected and abandoned our own ladies, leaving them alone. Because their relatives had driven them from their houses to usurp their portion of the family property, several widows had chosen to register for the indenture.
Deeper aspects of human nature surface when someone's own long-estranged descendent reaches out to him for love and compassion, but he worries the person has come to demand his share of the family property. When her clan in India mistrusts her for the same reason, the author feels betrayed. Even the paid guide, Tiwary, despite being a Brahmin himself and accompanying the author to her ancestral village, doesn’t show any empathy towards her. His primary motive always remains to make money. He even passes on lewd comments to the author.
In a similar vein, the homecoming part is also extremely unsettling. For most Indians living on such farms, going back home was a fantasy. Only a small number succeeded, and to their dismay, the majority were unable to locate their ancestral home. Due to their loss of caste rank, many of those who were successful in locating their ancestral homes encountered rejection. The Pundits fleeced them for this purification exercise to restore their caste. As a result of all these absurdities, disillusioned and broken, Calcutta witnessed several returnees begging or living in tents, pleading for assistance in arranging their return to their adopted land.
But, to the delight of the readers, the author presents the example of V. S. Naipaul. His grandfather had also migrated to Trinidad. Later, he returned to India, accompanied by his mistress. He took the train from Calcutta to Faizabad but couldn’t make his journey home. The lady, traveling alone, arrived at the home and found acceptance. In 1962, when Naipaul visited his ancestral place for the first time, he encountered this woman who could speak Caribbean English. After going through pages and pages full of stories of those troubled and rejected brothers and sisters, both at home and abroad, this example works like a balm on bruises. I wish all returnees had received the same welcome and acceptance.
The author deserves great appreciation for preserving these millions of people's hidden history, which would have otherwise been lost to oblivion.
The author’s great grandfather’s mother, Sujaria, had migrated to Guyana from Chapra in Bihar in 1903. Driven by her passion for tracing her roots, the author sets out to visit distant lands to see the places and meet the locals to understand the circumstances that would have compelled Sujaria to abandon her home. As an investigative journalist, she visits the Guyana National Archive, where she retrieves the Emigration Pass dated July 29, 1903, issued under the name of her great-grandmother. She also visits England's archives to learn more about her journey and the passage of time. She travels twice to her ancestral village in Chapra, Bihar. Her first visit in November 2005 turned out to be futile. She doesn't give up, though, and in the winter of 2008, she makes another attempt to find her roots when she is able to talk to the women of the family who say that their clan recites the name Sujaria at every family wedding. The fact that women customarily sing songs on the eve of a wedding, honoring all their ancestors going back five generations, comforts her. The thought that people will continue to use her name on such occasions touches her.
Initially, it appears that the novel is a coolie woman’s story that is specific to Guyana. Subsequently, the reader learns that the book is a well-researched analysis of every aspect of indenture, a practice prevalent in all the previously stated countries. She views both men and women who are coolies as fellow victims. She shows empathy for them by admitting that their egotistical colonial overlords used manipulation to make them appear morally right or wrong, moral or immoral, to support their own narrative.
In 1830, the British abolished the slavery system in many colonies, including Guyana, Trinidad & Tobago, and Jamaica. The colonizers desperately needed to replace slaves who could work in their cane fields. Therefore, they initiated the indenture system, employing Indian workers under contract for a duration of 3 to 5 years. The promise of adequate wages, a dignified life, and a safe return to India after their indenture period ended enticed the workers. Millions of poor Indians, mostly from Bihar and eastern Uttar Pradesh, left for these countries to work as indentured laborers. Their first assembly took place in Calcutta, from where the ships embarked on their three-month-long journey across the Bay of Bengal, Indian Ocean, and South Atlantic Ocean to reach their destination. Some of them died on the sea, while some others perished upon arriving at the farms. Those who survived had to live in hell. Those doomed to this hell were treated like slaves with no rights but duties.
The colonizers violated every condition of the contract, preventing the migrants from ever returning to their homeland. During the first decade of the twentieth century, moving tales of their sufferings began to arrive in India, which shook the consciences of the legendary freedom fighters. They began exerting pressure on the British Government to end this exploitative system, and their unwavering efforts led to the official abolition of the indenture system by the end of 1919. It is nonetheless noteworthy that the migration of Indian men and women, which had begun in 1838 when the Indians first arrived in the West Indies, continued until 1917, despite the horrifying tales of their miseries coming to India on a regular basis.
Many West Indian families went on to migrate to countries such as the US, Canada, Britain, and the Netherlands in search of a better future. But they would never forget the terrible experiences their ancestors endured during their initial migration under the indenture system. The author, too, left for the US at a young age with her parents in 1981, but she never forgot her home at Cumberland Village on the bank of the river Demerara in Guyana, where Sujaria took her last breath at the age of 89.
The work shocks us by exposing numerous truths that were prevalent in nineteenth-century Indian society, much like a historical piece. We neglected and abandoned our own ladies, leaving them alone. Because their relatives had driven them from their houses to usurp their portion of the family property, several widows had chosen to register for the indenture.
Deeper aspects of human nature surface when someone's own long-estranged descendent reaches out to him for love and compassion, but he worries the person has come to demand his share of the family property. When her clan in India mistrusts her for the same reason, the author feels betrayed. Even the paid guide, Tiwary, despite being a Brahmin himself and accompanying the author to her ancestral village, doesn’t show any empathy towards her. His primary motive always remains to make money. He even passes on lewd comments to the author.
In a similar vein, the homecoming part is also extremely unsettling. For most Indians living on such farms, going back home was a fantasy. Only a small number succeeded, and to their dismay, the majority were unable to locate their ancestral home. Due to their loss of caste rank, many of those who were successful in locating their ancestral homes encountered rejection. The Pundits fleeced them for this purification exercise to restore their caste. As a result of all these absurdities, disillusioned and broken, Calcutta witnessed several returnees begging or living in tents, pleading for assistance in arranging their return to their adopted land.
But, to the delight of the readers, the author presents the example of V. S. Naipaul. His grandfather had also migrated to Trinidad. Later, he returned to India, accompanied by his mistress. He took the train from Calcutta to Faizabad but couldn’t make his journey home. The lady, traveling alone, arrived at the home and found acceptance. In 1962, when Naipaul visited his ancestral place for the first time, he encountered this woman who could speak Caribbean English. After going through pages and pages full of stories of those troubled and rejected brothers and sisters, both at home and abroad, this example works like a balm on bruises. I wish all returnees had received the same welcome and acceptance.
The author deserves great appreciation for preserving these millions of people's hidden history, which would have otherwise been lost to oblivion.
October 14, 2023
"Coolie Woman" offers a window into the past, inviting reflection that fosters empathy and ignites a curiosity for further exploration. Bahadur's skillful weaving of poetic language throughout the narrative averted what could have been a dry historical account.
Her perception of Guyana is not entirely inaccurate. Many of her claims still hold. I lament daily the classism, corruption, and incompetence that seem ingrained in the fabric of this society. Nevertheless, her observations are unduly extrapolated from Cumberland, leading to conclusions that do not apply to the entire country. These conclusions are also somewhat dated.
For instance, on page 193 Bahadur paints with such a broad brush that the name Guyana evokes imagery of a wasteland of abandoned houses akin to Chernobyl, "our bend in the Canje River, like so many, bends in Guyana, was dotted with ageing wooden bungalows left behind by owners who had migrated... many others lay rotting, a toll of the emigration that has drained the country for decades." This is eloquent VS Naipaul-esque language, but its relationship with reality is fractured.
Admittedly, many of those houses still exist - even in Georgetown. However, they do not define the landscape. They may have in the distant past, but certainly not now nor at the time of the book's publishing (2014). If the author was aiming for hyperbole, she certainly achieved it.
As a parallel example, I recently visited Queens. If I were to describe my experiences by interchanging "Queens" and "New York" as fluidly as Bahadur did with Berbice, one might easily form the impression that New York is disproportionately a community of migrant West Indians; and that Guyanese in Queens are more fixated on their homeland than those residing in Guyana itself. However, Queens is not New York, and New York is not Queens. Furthermore, New York is not the entirety of the United States, and the United States is not solely New York. My point is that while Berbice undoubtedly holds a significant place in Guyana's rich history, it does not represent the entirety of the country.
On page 194 Bahadur says "domesticating emigration in this way might make it seem less final to those left behind." It appears that "left behind" is a euphemism for those trapped in a primitive era. Marooned in a cultural, economic, social, theological, and intellectual backwater. Those pining to escape to the promised land but are not fated to.
That would imply that those who stayed behind (quite an intriguing word), be it by choice or circumstances, lead inconsequential lives, except as sentimental relics or subjects for sociological fascination by those who ventured abroad but occasionally wish to revisit their origin story - because every superhero needs one - with nostalgia and a form of validation of their accomplishments.
It further insinuates that those who emigrated have achieved a more enlightened and validated existence by virtue of merely residing in a developed country. It hints at the notion that elements of humanity such as purpose, worth and dignity are confined to the imagination and deepest longings of those "left behind." Yet, I don't believe that was her intention. I don't perceive Bahadur as shallow. Nevertheless, this is the message that resonates with my third-world sensibilities.
In the subsequent paragraph, she states, "Guyanese have gone 'outside' on an outsized scale, and its landscape is defined by houses entrusted to the care or neglect of squatters, relatives or tenants. The emigrants - we emigrants - have become like absentee landlords in our own past, trying to maintain ties from afar." This suggests that all of the houses here are owned by those who emigrated. We the "left behind" are incapable of elevating ourselves beyond categories of tenants, caretakers and squatters. I find this assertion not only disturbingly inaccurate but also it conveys an air of ignorance and condescension.
I want to clarify that I'm not labelling Bahadur ignorant, especially given her qualifications and accolades. However, if such words were spoken by someone without her distinguished background, "ignorant" might indeed be a fitting description.
Bahadur rightly brings attention to the issue of brain drain in Guyana. However, when done without qualification, it could be misconstrued as no individuals of intellectual substance are left in the country. It could create the false impression that those who remain had no option but to do so. What is "left behind" is the dregs of human resources. Yet this is not the case. Many individuals who have attained academic success have chosen to remain in Guyana and contribute to the country's development. Some have even returned after pursuing opportunities abroad, not because they failed, but because they believed they could make a meaningful contribution to nation-building.
Bahadur made reference to Guyana rejecting feminism as if we would have espoused it with arms wide open like a long-awaited messiah if only we were more evolved and enlightened. Yet many in the developed world have vehemently reject some feminist ideologies as well, refusing to go gentle into that woke night. Jordan Peterson is a case in point. He is not some coolie "left behind" in a colonial rape victim now masquerading as a republic. He is a white male academic and best-selling author from Canada, one of the world’s most developed and woke countries. There are millions more like him. We don’t reject some feminist ideologies because we’re idiots, we reject them because we are not.
I acknowledge that the book's objective was not to provide a comprehensive treatment of our country. Indeed, Guyana is a complex and nuanced nation that cannot be reduced to a 274-page book. Nevertheless, what remains unsaid is just as significant as what is articulated. Even if briefly, I believe "Coolie Woman" could have presented an unprejudiced assessment of Guyana to those unfamiliar with it. If all they have is the portrait she has painted, then they've glimpsed a fragment of British Guiana's history, but they remain completely unaware of the vibrant tapestry that is Guyana.
In conclusion, the Guyana Bahadur and her family left behind decades ago is not the Guyana that exists today. It hasn't been for a long time. Despite my criticisms, I want to reiterate my appreciation for her book, as it undoubtedly enriches the body of work on Guyanese history.
Her perception of Guyana is not entirely inaccurate. Many of her claims still hold. I lament daily the classism, corruption, and incompetence that seem ingrained in the fabric of this society. Nevertheless, her observations are unduly extrapolated from Cumberland, leading to conclusions that do not apply to the entire country. These conclusions are also somewhat dated.
For instance, on page 193 Bahadur paints with such a broad brush that the name Guyana evokes imagery of a wasteland of abandoned houses akin to Chernobyl, "our bend in the Canje River, like so many, bends in Guyana, was dotted with ageing wooden bungalows left behind by owners who had migrated... many others lay rotting, a toll of the emigration that has drained the country for decades." This is eloquent VS Naipaul-esque language, but its relationship with reality is fractured.
Admittedly, many of those houses still exist - even in Georgetown. However, they do not define the landscape. They may have in the distant past, but certainly not now nor at the time of the book's publishing (2014). If the author was aiming for hyperbole, she certainly achieved it.
As a parallel example, I recently visited Queens. If I were to describe my experiences by interchanging "Queens" and "New York" as fluidly as Bahadur did with Berbice, one might easily form the impression that New York is disproportionately a community of migrant West Indians; and that Guyanese in Queens are more fixated on their homeland than those residing in Guyana itself. However, Queens is not New York, and New York is not Queens. Furthermore, New York is not the entirety of the United States, and the United States is not solely New York. My point is that while Berbice undoubtedly holds a significant place in Guyana's rich history, it does not represent the entirety of the country.
On page 194 Bahadur says "domesticating emigration in this way might make it seem less final to those left behind." It appears that "left behind" is a euphemism for those trapped in a primitive era. Marooned in a cultural, economic, social, theological, and intellectual backwater. Those pining to escape to the promised land but are not fated to.
That would imply that those who stayed behind (quite an intriguing word), be it by choice or circumstances, lead inconsequential lives, except as sentimental relics or subjects for sociological fascination by those who ventured abroad but occasionally wish to revisit their origin story - because every superhero needs one - with nostalgia and a form of validation of their accomplishments.
It further insinuates that those who emigrated have achieved a more enlightened and validated existence by virtue of merely residing in a developed country. It hints at the notion that elements of humanity such as purpose, worth and dignity are confined to the imagination and deepest longings of those "left behind." Yet, I don't believe that was her intention. I don't perceive Bahadur as shallow. Nevertheless, this is the message that resonates with my third-world sensibilities.
In the subsequent paragraph, she states, "Guyanese have gone 'outside' on an outsized scale, and its landscape is defined by houses entrusted to the care or neglect of squatters, relatives or tenants. The emigrants - we emigrants - have become like absentee landlords in our own past, trying to maintain ties from afar." This suggests that all of the houses here are owned by those who emigrated. We the "left behind" are incapable of elevating ourselves beyond categories of tenants, caretakers and squatters. I find this assertion not only disturbingly inaccurate but also it conveys an air of ignorance and condescension.
I want to clarify that I'm not labelling Bahadur ignorant, especially given her qualifications and accolades. However, if such words were spoken by someone without her distinguished background, "ignorant" might indeed be a fitting description.
Bahadur rightly brings attention to the issue of brain drain in Guyana. However, when done without qualification, it could be misconstrued as no individuals of intellectual substance are left in the country. It could create the false impression that those who remain had no option but to do so. What is "left behind" is the dregs of human resources. Yet this is not the case. Many individuals who have attained academic success have chosen to remain in Guyana and contribute to the country's development. Some have even returned after pursuing opportunities abroad, not because they failed, but because they believed they could make a meaningful contribution to nation-building.
Bahadur made reference to Guyana rejecting feminism as if we would have espoused it with arms wide open like a long-awaited messiah if only we were more evolved and enlightened. Yet many in the developed world have vehemently reject some feminist ideologies as well, refusing to go gentle into that woke night. Jordan Peterson is a case in point. He is not some coolie "left behind" in a colonial rape victim now masquerading as a republic. He is a white male academic and best-selling author from Canada, one of the world’s most developed and woke countries. There are millions more like him. We don’t reject some feminist ideologies because we’re idiots, we reject them because we are not.
I acknowledge that the book's objective was not to provide a comprehensive treatment of our country. Indeed, Guyana is a complex and nuanced nation that cannot be reduced to a 274-page book. Nevertheless, what remains unsaid is just as significant as what is articulated. Even if briefly, I believe "Coolie Woman" could have presented an unprejudiced assessment of Guyana to those unfamiliar with it. If all they have is the portrait she has painted, then they've glimpsed a fragment of British Guiana's history, but they remain completely unaware of the vibrant tapestry that is Guyana.
In conclusion, the Guyana Bahadur and her family left behind decades ago is not the Guyana that exists today. It hasn't been for a long time. Despite my criticisms, I want to reiterate my appreciation for her book, as it undoubtedly enriches the body of work on Guyanese history.
December 10, 2018
This is, by far, one of the most well-researched explorations into as person’s ancestral history that I have ever read. The book does many things well that others in the genre might: you do bear an honest witness of an author’s frantic pursuit for their identity; you do learn what can be learned about the adventure of their ancestor; and you do get some tantalizingly deep primary research into someone’s family history. However, on top of all that, you also get an entire survey of the women’s position in the colonial project of indenture. I think the latter point makes it a must read for anyone interested in the historical systems of indenture. Genuinely, I feel you could suffer through a textbook or you could read this and have an equivalent depth of knowledge.
As for how that information is delivered, Bahadur lives up to her Columbia education. For all that it is trying to do, it is not a particularly hard read. If I had to say something, some spots could have used an edit as they can drag, but, as I have said, the information is worth the extra couple pages of labor. This book has won prizes for a reason—I would say you should read it.
As for how that information is delivered, Bahadur lives up to her Columbia education. For all that it is trying to do, it is not a particularly hard read. If I had to say something, some spots could have used an edit as they can drag, but, as I have said, the information is worth the extra couple pages of labor. This book has won prizes for a reason—I would say you should read it.
January 7, 2025
It got dark at many points as Bahadur refused to let any history through the cracks. But her thorough examination and explanation of the world funneling these people out is fantastic. Every account with a specific name made me wonder if that was my great-great-great-grandparent's story. I guess I'll just have to go find out for myself.
It looked heavily into the legality of the entire indenture system at every stage: India, the ships, then the colonies. This is where I felt it drag. But that isn't going to stop me from using the bibliography as a TBR.
It looked heavily into the legality of the entire indenture system at every stage: India, the ships, then the colonies. This is where I felt it drag. But that isn't going to stop me from using the bibliography as a TBR.
April 24, 2018
Riveting, engaging and accessible, this is story of Indian female indentured labour in Guyana. The story was sparked by the writer's family history and is an incredible read for anyone interested in the history of migration, history of women or just an incredible story of women who would otherwise be forgotten. Arguably it raises more questions than it could have possibly hoped to answer - but that, in my opinion is the point of history - to start and continue the conversation.
July 8, 2022
This was a very thorough look into indentured servitude in the Caribbean, Fiji, Mauritius, and specifically in Guyana.
Bahadur takes a wonderful approach weaving in her family's history as well as historical underpinnings of indenture, its origins in Scotland, recruitment and return in India.
I am Indo-Guyanese and this provided some insightful content on our shared history, however heartbreaking.
Bahadur takes a wonderful approach weaving in her family's history as well as historical underpinnings of indenture, its origins in Scotland, recruitment and return in India.
I am Indo-Guyanese and this provided some insightful content on our shared history, however heartbreaking.
January 22, 2023
Never finished reading this but I will pretend I did. Very educational on a part of history that is not talked about ever. I liked hearing her story through the daughters perspective. Would not attempt to read again.
September 1, 2015
A fantastic book. Thoroughly researched and superbly written.
October 17, 2015
Interesting topic, but read more like a compilation of research articles rather than a cohesive work.
January 30, 2020
every page of this book taught me something.
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