In the verdant hills and dense forests of Odisha, tribal women navigate a reality where menstruation is both a personal journey and a societal taboo. For many, it is a subject rarely spoken of, cloaked in layers of stigma and cultural restrictions that dictate their daily lives. While the rest of the world marches toward better awareness and accessibility to menstrual health, these women continue to contend with deep-rooted traditions, limited resources, and inadequate infrastructure.
For a young girl in a tribal village, the arrival of her first period often comes without warning. Mothers, often constrained by their own lack of knowledge or cultural hesitations, rarely prepare their daughters for this transition. When her time comes, confusion and fear may take over, compounded by whispered instructions to isolate herself from her household and community activities. In many communities, menstruating women are considered impure and are excluded from kitchens, temples, and even sleeping quarters. These beliefs reinforce the idea that menstruation is something to be hidden—something shameful.
Access to menstrual hygiene products remains one of the biggest challenges for tribal women in Odisha. The high cost of commercial sanitary pads renders them unattainable for most, leaving women to rely on traditional methods. Torn pieces of cloth, dried leaves, or even ash become makeshift solutions, often reused and improperly cleaned due to a lack of water and private spaces. These practices pose serious health risks, including infections and reproductive health issues, yet they persist in the absence of viable alternatives.
The infrastructure to support menstrual hygiene is also woefully inadequate. In many tribal villages, toilets are either non-existent or poorly maintained, leaving women to manage their periods in open spaces or dilapidated structures. Privacy is a constant concern, as is the disposal of menstrual waste, which is often buried in fields or discarded in the open, creating both environmental and health hazards.
Despite these challenges, change is brewing in the heart of Odisha’s tribal regions. Grassroots organizations and local self-help groups are stepping in to fill the void. Women’s cooperatives in districts like Rayagada and Koraput are producing affordable, biodegradable sanitary pads using locally sourced materials. These pads not only provide a hygienic alternative but also align with the environmental ethos of tribal communities. In addition, the cooperatives create employment opportunities for local women, fostering financial independence and a sense of pride.
In 2016, the Odisha government launched the Menstrual Hygiene Scheme under the Rashtriya Kishor Swasthya Karyakram (RKSK). The program’s objective was simple yet ambitious: to provide affordable and accessible menstrual hygiene products to adolescent girls in rural and tribal areas. Subsidized sanitary napkins were made available, while women undergoing institutional deliveries or medical termination of pregnancies received them for free. This initiative marked a turning point, addressing not just hygiene but also the deeply entrenched stigma around menstruation.
Building on this momentum, 2018 saw the introduction of the KHUSHI scheme. Aptly named, which translates to “Happiness,” this initiative aimed at reducing absenteeism among school-going girls. Under the program, the government distributed free sanitary napkins to schoolgirls, ensuring that a lack of access to menstrual products would no longer hinder their education. This scheme was particularly impactful in tribal areas, where cultural taboos often forced girls to skip school during their periods.
Education is also proving to be a powerful tool in transforming attitudes toward menstruation. Community health workers and NGOs are initiating open conversations about menstrual hygiene, often in spaces traditionally dominated by silence. Schools in tribal regions are beginning to incorporate menstrual health into their curricula, ensuring that the next generation of girls understands their bodies and can navigate their cycles with confidence.
The Odisha government’s initiatives, coupled with efforts by NGOs and community leaders, have started to shift the narrative. Workshops and awareness campaigns in tribal regions aim to dismantle taboos and promote open discussions about menstrual health. Some grassroots organizations have even introduced biodegradable sanitary products that align with tribal communities’ sustainable practices.
For women like 16-year-old Sunita, a schoolgirl from Mayurbhanj district, these initiatives have been life-changing. “Earlier, I would miss school during my periods because we didn’t have pads and I was scared of stains,” she shares. “Now, I have pads and my teachers talk openly about periods. I feel less ashamed.”
Despite these commendable efforts, challenges remain. Studies reveal that a significant number of tribal women continue to use unsanitary materials during menstruation. A recent survey among the Juang tribe found that 71% of women experienced menstrual problems, yet only a third sought medical treatment. Another study highlighted that 59% of tribal women aged 15–24 relied on cloth as menstrual absorbents, compared to just 25% among their non-tribal counterparts.
Cultural norms and lack of awareness still serve as barriers. In many tribal communities, menstruation is surrounded by myths that restrict women from participating in daily activities or accessing certain spaces. These deeply rooted beliefs often prevent women from seeking help or adopting safer menstrual practices.
The resilience of tribal women in Odisha shines through these challenges. In the face of societal restrictions and systemic neglect, they are finding ways to reclaim their narratives and advocate for their dignity. Their efforts, combined with the support of grassroots movements and government initiatives, have the potential to redefine menstrual health for generations to come.
Menstruation, after all, is not just a biological process but a marker of equity and empowerment. As the women of Odisha’s tribal communities take small yet significant steps toward breaking the silence, they remind us that progress begins with listening—listening to their stories, their struggles, and their hopes for a world where periods are met not with shame but with pride.