Ushering in knowledge economy in India’s remote parts

It is past 9 30 in the night. We are in Bhawani Mandi (the name translates into "Goddess's own trading centre"), a small border town in Jhalawar district of the picturesque State of Rajasthan, best known for its orange, opium and coriander fields. The town is asleep and the shops have shut a while ago save the lone information kiosk that closes only after 10 pm. The kiosk is being run by Ritesh Pandey, a local youth who received the franchise to set up the Jan Mitra (friend of the public) information kiosk under the UNDP and Government of India-supported initiative that has piloted the use of information technology for improving citizens' access to information pertaining to Government services in some of the most remote parts of the country. Raju Mali (right) seeks online help at Ritesh Pandey's kiosk © Kumar M Tiku We are chatting with Pandey when Raju Mali steps into the kiosk. Mali, in his mid-thirties is slightly built and looks weary after a hard day's grind. He has stopped by at the kiosk, having seen the signboard that announces in detail the whole gamut of government services that can be availed at the info-kiosk. One such service that catches Mali's eye is immediately relevant to him and pertains to a mutation and land title certificate issued to the villagers. "My father died a year ago and I have not managed so far to have the property transferred in accordance with his will", Mali tells the kiosk owner, who is all ears. "You know how it is at the district office. We go all the way and find ourselves at the mercy of the clerk who seldom helps and almost never without a consideration", Mali says. "I am a lowly electrician in a textile mill and am hired on a daily wage arrangement. I cannot afford to waste a full day being sent back and forth between sundry government offices, without much hope that my job will be done. But can you help in any way?," Mali asks with a look of hopelessness and incredulity. Pandey, the kiosk-owner, is a consummate information retailer. He shows Mali the online application form that he must fill and promises that the transfer certificate will be issued to him in seven days. All at a fee of ten rupees (20 cents) only. Mali's first look is one of disbelief but once Pandey explains in graphic detail how the online information system works, Mali is convinced and ready to use the facility. Pandey is about to call it a day. His turnover of the day: a decent Rs. 150 or slightly over three dollars. Most of this income is coming out of facilitating average people's access to government-related information. A combination of administrative reforms and information technology is marching hand-in-hand in several pockets of India including in some least developed regions like Jhalawar in Rajasthan. Seen together with the state government's energetic efforts to take governance closer to the people through initiatives like sub-district development fairs and grievance redressal fora for an on-the-spot amelioration of people's problems with government-related services, the Access to Information project using the IT-enabled information kiosk approach marks a huge leap forward in bridging the chasm between local administration and the end-users of service delivery. At one such development fair on the eve of India's 57th Independence Day in Dug, a sleepy backward-caste village deep inside Jhalawar, some 120 kilometres from the district headquarters and over 500 kilometres south-east off Jaipur (capital of the state of Rajasthan), hundreds of villagers from nearby villages have assembled under a tent. The open forum, for that is what such fairs are meant to be, is being attended by the highest elected legislator from the local constituency, the woman head of the village cluster, and high-level civil servants such as the divisional commissioner and the district collector, flanked by government officials from every development-related department who have set up counters to attend to people's complaints. Many of the villagers are busy dealing with the concerned officials to have their pending cases solved under the benign eye of the higher authorities. After disbursing small loans and revolving credit facility to local self-help groups and a variety of socially, economically and physically disadvantaged groups for small business activity, the district collector, the senior-most district-level official, makes a surprising announcement: "In less than two weeks from today, we will take decentralisation many steps forward by disbanding the District Rural Development Agency (DRDA) and devolving funds, functions and functionaries related to 16 departments and 29 subjects -- public health engineering, irrigation, public works, elementary education, fisheries, agriculture, soil conservation, women and child development, to name a few -- to the Zilla Parishad (the district-level elected body headed by the elected district head and administered by a senior government civil servant). This is being done so that you could make better use of the government schemes and programmes for your own development. Indeed, in the days to come make your own development plans for the village". Jan Mitra kiosks display important telephone numbers of district authorities © Kumar M Tiku As the assembled crowd cheers lustily, the collector adds with measured effect, "Did you know we have brought the government to your doorstep by setting up Jan Mitra, the village information centre where most, if not all your development information needs will be met." It is a great occasion to market the info kiosks to the local population and the collector has seized the opportunity with both hands. The fair comes to a close and Maqsood Alam Gori, a local lad who looks a lot younger than his 25 years, takes us to his 'Divine Computer Institute', the information centre he, together with his two younger brothers Ashiq and Anwar Ahmed Gori, has set up to run the Jan Mitra kiosk and a range of other IT-enabled services. Training village high-school children in basic computer skills is high on his agenda and by far the biggest money-spinner for the brothers. They keep a hawk's eye on software training schemes for the poor that the state and central governments either sponsor or subsidise, bidding for the schemes and lining up an ever-expanding customer base. Gori, a computer techie, proudly claims to be the first applicant under the Jan Mitra scheme. After being selected by the 'tough' interview committee to run the information kiosk, Gori, along with the score-odd other young entrepreneurs who were selected, received an intensive seven-day training that equipped him with a full knowledge of the customised Jan Mitra software as well as the functioning of various government departments. The kiosk finally got going around August last year. The boys, exuding a sense of genuine achievement, declare the info-kiosk a runaway success for them. Services such as certificates for land records are a big hit among the villagers, as are the on-line grievance redressal system and the online application forms that allow villagers to pitch for dozens of poverty alleviation schemes that they earlier did not even know existed. Indeed, the speedy grievance redressal has been a big ticket success story under the Jan Mitra initiative, under which currently 28 info-kiosks are up and running, with the number expected to go up to 40 by the yearend. Pravin Soni, another kiosk owner in Bhawani Mandi, cites several examples where people’s complaints with such government services as power supply, pensions and land dispute resolution were attended to with alacrity. Trilok Chand Partani, manager of the local cooperative bank, made an online complaint against the electricity board to clear the loose high-tension wiring over his house that was exposing his entire family to imminent risk. He had personally petitioned the officials on a number of occasions, without success. But once he registered the online complaint, the wires were fixed within three days. The Partani family can't stop singing virtues of the online system. Involving women in Jan Mitra remains a major part of the unfinished business. Soni can't remember the last time when a woman walked into his kiosk for help. Or when a complaint concerning women's issues was made on the Jan Mitra. Straining hard to quote an instance to offset any negative image about his kiosk in the mind of an itinerant visitor like the writer, Soni recalls the incident of a retiring nurse who got her complaint registered through her husband. The person who was to take charge from her was dragging her feet but once the complaint was made, the person concerned was made to join duties post-haste, allowing the nurse to avail her retirement from service on schedule. Apart from such aberrations of limited women's participation, within a relatively short span of time, the Jan Mitra initiative has been able to create demand for government services among a section of the population and has even managed to deliver some of these services at their doorstep. In chronically under-served parts of Jhalawar, the border district of Rajasthan in the foothills of the Aravalis, notorious for its isolation from the mainstream – the nearest railhead is still a good 45 kilometres away -- the seemingly non-descript Jan Mitra village information ‘shops’ are reviving people’s faith in the system. A software training session in Dug village © Kumar M Tiku Most villagers reckon for the first time these kiosks have facilitated their access to the government. In a region with high levels of income and human poverty, an abysmal state of village roads, chronic scarcity of drinking water supply and erratic, insufficient and poor quality of electricity, it is remarkable how, in village after village, Jan Mitra is heralding the arrival of an incipient knowledge economy. From registration of births, deaths and land records, to grievance redressal, to the submission of online applications for a clutch of government schemes and services, to even getting examination results, each e-service comes with its price tag. The villagers are not only paying up happily, but also actually counting their savings in terms of time and effort. It is clear as daylight that what they are enjoying the most, however, is the freedom from an unhappy past. A past best associated with the excesses of the Babu (a term loosely used to define every form of the local official) and the lal-phitashahi (red tapism) that the Babudom has came to represent for that man on the street. (Kumar M Tiku is National Information Officer, UNDP India.)

User comments