Student
Loans And Suicide
By Ajit Kanitkar
15 September, 2004
Economic
& Political Weekly
Two
news items appeared in the Delhi edition of the Hindustan Times in the
last week of July. The reports went unnoticed except for some news channels
which covered it briefly. Parliament was busy deciding how
to overcome the crisis caused by the BJPs boycott of proceedings
on the issue of Shibu Sorens arrest. The prime minister was reviewing
the drought and flood situation in the country. Officials in the HRD
ministry were probably too much into the process of detoxification
of the ministry. And the finance minister was appealing to the chief
commissioners of income tax and central excise to mop up more revenue.
And where was the bureaucracy responsible for the well-being of the
banking system? Their hands were full with salvaging the Global Trust
Bank and the associated fiasco. And the news went almost unnoticed.
Of the two news
stories, one concerned Rajani, a dalit engineering student in Kerala,
who committed suicide as her family could not afford the fees for her
education. Rajanis application for a student loan had reportedly
been turned down by several banks. The other story was also about the
financial troubles dogging Vaishali, a medical student.
For someone like
this author, who had the privilege of studying and working in some of
the best educational institutions in India, this is a moment of national
shame and disgrace. The death of Rajani is a national disaster. It is
a calamity for all those who had the benefit of educating themselves
at the taxpayers expense. It is time for introspection for all
those professionals in large financial institutions who deal in fancy
instruments like futures and derivatives. It is a wake-up
call for all those bankers and their organised trade unions who resort
to strike at the slightest provocation. It is also a clear signal that
we need to do something urgently to address issues of equity in our
educational system. Moreover, it is also time to ask critical questions
to a large fraternity of bankers and professionals such as whether tragedy
could have been avoided had some of them shown a little more flexibility
and empathy.
India boasts of
a well-entrenched formal banking system, a vast network of public sector
commercial banks, supported and complemented by a strong network of
196 regional rural banks, and hundreds of cooperative banks. In addition,
in the past 10 years, one has seen the rapid spread of foreign banks
in metros and other towns. The Thiruvananthapuram and Nagpur episodes
raise questions and challenges that the banking system needs to respond
to. Why did the five banks in Kerala not consider Rajani a credible
client? Why did they insist on collateral security? Why did they refuse
her father Sivanandans requests? Was it because he was an illiterate
dalit? Was Rajani refused a loan because she was a dalit and a woman?
What happened to all those much published and hyped educational
loan schemes of public sector banks? Wasnt it a sufficient
credential for Rajani to have got herself admitted to a
computer engineering course? Who played safe in these banks and refused
a loan to Rajani?
It appears that
we as a nation dont learn from our past experiences. The myth
that the poor are not bankable has been destroyed, thanks
to a massive decade-long effort by NABARD, banks, microfinance institutions
and the one million-plus self-help groups (SHGs). The SHG success stories
from all parts of the country have repeatedly proved that what poor
people need is a small sum of Rs 3,000 or Rs 5,000 for education, health
and other livelihood activities. The SHGs have demonstrated with conviction
that poor men and women make good clients because the poor understand
the need to build self-esteem and credibility for themselves. Time and
again, bankers have acknowledged in seminars and workshops that their
SHG portfolio had an impressive 98 per cent to 99 per cent repayment
rate. The same bankers have shared in public and private meetings that
those who are rich (and can in fact afford to repay) are the risky clients
who often turn into wilful defaulters. Does anyone need further proof,
if one has tracked the ICICI and Mardia Chemicals legal battle?
Then, the critical
and disturbing question is, why did some bankers in Kerala refuse a
loan say of Rs 40,000 to Rs 50,000 to Rajani? What kind of collateral
security were they looking for? So far, we had heard of farmers committing
suicide. One had read disturbing stories of deaths caused by dowry,
educated unemployed men immolating themselves in frustration.
The Kerala incident
is a wake-up call for all banking professionals. Let the state-level
bankers committees take up this point as the top agenda item in
their meetings. Let trade union leaders and their followers debate this
death in their fora. Let all banks publish the details of their educational
loan schemes, how many candidates applied for these schemes, who benefited
from it and so on. Let the office of the ombudsman for banks appointed
by the Reserve Bank of India investigate the reasons for the refusal
of a loan to Rajani. We need a debate. We need to shake-up the lethargy
that is gripping the banking system. It seems easier to show a good
bottom line not by lending but by parking surplus funds in safe government
securities or with the head office.
The Kerala episode
is a warning signal. There have been many such signals in the past which
have largely been ignored. This time, we need to learn. The banking
community owes it to all of us, and they owe it to themselves