Why access to public toilets remains a worry for women

There are many more

public

toilets today than there were five years ago. But that hasn’t necessarily made a big difference for

women

whose jobs take them to remote or

rural

areas or those who must spend hours every day commuting within a city. Despite the increase in numbers, safety and hygiene remain the two primary concerns.
Dotted with banquet halls and dhabas, the road to Mewat is also a picturesque stretch of scrub and desert, with Khejri trees standing tall against the Aravali range of hills. It should, ideally, make for a pleasant outing. But for Archana Kapoor and her companion, there was little pleasant about the ride from Gurugramto the Radio Mewat studio in Nuh. Her friend, a visitor to India, was down with an upset stomach, and there was no loo in sight to provide temporary relief.

“It was a desperate situation so we requested one of the banquet halls to show us around under the pretext of booking the place for her daughter’s marriage. She then excused herself to use the washroom,” Archana recalls, chuckling. She knows the feeling, having travelled between South Delhi and Nuh for the past eight years.

Gurugramhas more than 130 public toilets, but over 60% of them didn’t have any water supply until last year. After being apprised by residents of the abysmal condition of the washrooms, the Municipal Corporation of Gurgaon (MCG), early on in 2019, directed officials to install mobile toilets in 40 HSVP markets.

But availability of water alone doesn’t ensure hygiene, which is a matter of attitude. “The government has been instrumental in building toilets in villages and schools but how many of them have running water or are cleaned on a regular basis?” asks Kavita (name changed on request), a young doctor who two months back was campaigning for a political party.

The challenge, Kavita explains, goes beyond building toilets. “Women often suffer from urinary tract infections after using unhygienic public washrooms. At petrol pumps, the scenario is scarier – you can’t sit, you have to block your nose, and you don’t want to look back. There is no place to even wash hands,” she adds.

Men might have it easier but they’re not beyond protesting about the dearth of such facilities. Ashish Chawla, a cab driver with Uber who travels to Manesar every day, complains there is hardly any washroom after Arjan Garh (MG Road). “The ones that are located on the highway are mostly locked, and there is nobody to maintain them even though MCG is paying its contractors for cleaning the toilets on a daily basis,” he mentions.

For Promita Sengupta, a banker turned entrepreneur, setting out on a road trip with family was unthinkable without a portable toilet, which she would attach to her car. It made her realise the problems faced by fellow travellers, especially women, and helped sow the seeds of Innovations Unlimited, the NGO she founded.This not-for-profit devised a mobile

toilet

(‘nCircle R’) which one could easily carry on car journeys. “Our product was showcased for the first time in Diwali melas of different prominent condominiums in Gurugram– I’ve been overwhelmed by the response it has evoked so far, from hygiene-conscious women travellers who love to go by road,” says Promita.

Then there are solutions offered by the likes of Peebuddy, the folks behind the eponymous female urination device that allows women to relieve themselves while standing. More than two million of these have been sold since it was launched in 2016. Deep Bajaj, founder of Peebuddy, said the idea came to him on a trip to Jaipur, with his friends and their wives.

“We were bantering how men can stand and pee and thus we are more privileged. A friend’s wife intervened and said that she encountered a European female trekker who cut a plastic water bottle into half and used it as a funnel to relieve herself — that was a Eureka moment for me,” Bajaj says.

It was, for India, a radical concept, and took a while to be accepted. But doctors and medical practitioners gave it a thumbs-up. “When my wife was pregnant and travelling for work, using washrooms – both clean and unhygienic – was all the more difficult for her,” Bajaj adds. “I feel for women like her, or those suffering from diseases like arthritis.”

Vikas Bagaria, co-founder of PeeSafe, a female hygiene and sanitation brand, believes clean doesn’t necessarily mean sanitised. “While cleanliness is important, sanitisation is the real solution to an unhygienic washroom,” he says. “We have collaborated with many co-working spaces, malls and restaurants for a washroom sanitisation program wherein all toilet seats will be sanitised.”

Bagaria insists that everyone, and especially women, should be educated about the fact that sanitisation is a daily and not an occasional need. Meanwhile, Peebuddy’s Bajaj says the device his company created is an innovation, not a replacement for unhygienic toilets.

Clearly, for all the innovation offered by individuals, startups and NGOs, it’s only in building public toilets that are accessible and clean, and that are maintained regularly, that the answer lies.