Vidarbha’s farm widows who refuse to remarry
In Maharashtra’s drought-prone regions, widow remarriage is gradually shifting from a social taboo to wider acceptance. The shift is partly shaped by the growing number
In Maharashtra’s drought-prone regions, widow remarriage is gradually shifting from a social taboo to wider acceptance. The shift is partly shaped by the growing number of unmarried farmers struggling to find women willing to marry them. Faced with low incomes, agrarian uncertainty and the social challenges of farming, many such men are now turning to widows. But Radheshyam Jadhav finds that many women are declining these proposals, choosing financial independence and personal autonomy over the complexities that often accompany remarriage Severe cramps gripped her abdomen. Neelima Renge ached to scream her heart out in anguish and anger. She was eight months pregnant when her husband Moreshwar died by suicide. Crushed under the burden of debt, he decided to end his life. In that haze of grief, anger and pain, she decided never to remarry. More than a decade later, she has not wavered from that decision. “That decision was correct,” she asserts, standing in the corner of her dingy two-room mud house in Zadgaon, a remote village in Yavatmal district of Vidarbha region, the epicentre of Maharashtra’s farmer suicide crisis. Inside, a broken charpai (cot), farming tools and stacked soybean sacks leave barely enough room for two people to sit. “This is what I have built on my own — my house and my life,” she says. Married in 2011, Neelima was unable to complete her secondary school education. Her husband, who cultivated the family’s land, struggled with alcoholism. She says she made every effort to persuade him to stop drinking, but failed. Barely three years into their marriage, he died by suicide, leaving her widowed at the age of 26. A month after his death, she gave birth to a son. In the years that followed, marriage proposals came through her parents and relatives, while several suitors expressed interest in marrying her, both directly and indirectly. According to Kishor Tiwari, leader of the farmers’ advocacy and social action group Vidarbha Jan Andolan Samiti, western Vidarbha recorded 30,969 farmer suicides between 2001 and 2024 across Akola, Amravati, Buldhana, Washim and Yavatmal districts. Agrarian distress remains acute, with Yavatmal alone recording 102 farmer suicides between January and May 2026, according to Kishor. When young women are widowed, their parents often urge them to remarry for financial security and social acceptance. At times, social activists act as matchmakers, helping widows and prospective grooms connect. In Buldhana, a young farm widow and an unmarried farmer fell in love but, unable to openly announce their intention to marry, sought the help of a local non-profit organisation. Yet, for widows such as Neelima, whether a man has been married before matters far less than whether he treats her as an equal partner. She did not believe she would find such a relationship and has therefore remained single. Alongside women widowed by farmer suicides, rural Maharashtra is also home to many never-married farmers who struggle to find wives because of unstable incomes. A network of matchmakers assists these farmers, often searching for prospective brides in the relatively underdeveloped regions of Vidarbha and Marathwada. While prospective grooms initially hesitate to consider widows, many eventually do after repeated rejections from previously unmarried women and their families. Many widows also turn down proposals from farmers, most of them over the age of 40. They are unwilling to give up their autonomy or risk reliving the trauma of an earlier marriage. Over the past seven to eight years, the problem has grown into a social crisis. It gained political visibility during the 2024 Lok Sabha election, with both farmers and political parties calling for government intervention. Also Read | Maharashtra, Karnataka report most number of farmer suicides Navigating life Neelima’s in-laws declared that she was no longer part of the family and had no claim to its land. They were also resentful that the government compensation released after her husband’s death had been deposited directly into her account rather than theirs. Neelima took shelter at her parents’ home in Hinganghat, about 55 km from her marital village.