Meet the woman who walks many a mile to deliver mail

Alaka Mahato (58) faced many struggles when she lost her husband. Becoming a peon at Begunkodar post office – a position her late husband had held – helped her rebuild her life and deliver mail to nearby villages. Here is her story, narrated in her own words.

I landed my first job at an ICDS ( Integrated Child Development Scheme) centre in Balarampur in Purulia district of West Bengal in 1984. I was just 18, but I was eager to contribute to my family’s income. 

My parents were small-scale farmers and owned a few heads of livestock. We barely had enough to get by.

Witnessing the dire levels of malnutrition and healthcare deficiencies in Purulia fuelled my determination to make a difference. I even travelled to Kolkata to attend a training programme to become an ASHA (accredited social health activist) worker. 

Also Read: Tackling malnutrition in India needs thinking out of the box

However, I had to leave my job after getting married and welcoming my daughter in 1990. My husband, employed as a peon at Begunkodar post office, was the sole breadwinner.

In 2006, tragedy struck when my husband passed away. It felt like my world crumbled beneath me. My foremost concern was providing for our three children. 

We couldn’t sustain our expenses on my husband’s meagre pension of Rs 500. We often went hungry. Desperate to secure a better life for my family, I rejoined an ICDS centre closer to our home in Jaharhatu village. 

I persuaded my daughter to care for her younger siblings while ensuring that she studied her lessons. 

Relentless struggles defined those years. Despite the hardships, I refused to entertain the idea of remarriage.

Also Read: She chose to wear mangalsutra even after her husband’s death

My ICDS training endowed me with practical skills at work. Yet life was not easy.

Three challenging years later, an opportunity arose in 2010. Sitaram Mahato, the postmaster at Begunkodar, approached me about a peon position. Initially hesitant, I applied for the job. And to my surprise, I was selected. 

I had to attend a training programme, learning about administrative duties, assisting with account openings, and addressing inquiries about government schemes like Ujjwala Yojana. 

I also began delivering mail within a seven-kilometre radius, traversing villages like Gurrabira, Chatambari, Murguma and Nischintapur, come rain or shine.

Reflecting on it now, I realise that my motivation stemmed from preserving my late husband’s legacy through this job.

Also Read: The flame of Ujjwala burns strong

I start my day at 4 am and return home in the evening. Many wonder why I don’t ride a bicycle to deliver mail. But walking resonates with me, while following my late husband’s preferred mode of commute. It clears my mind of worries, preventing me from dwelling on the past. 

A cherished aspect of my job is connecting with familiar faces, and sharing meals and conversations. Over the years, they’ve become like family. 

Many people doubted my ability to raise my children on my own. Some made snide remarks about my widowhood. But I have been undeterred, living life on my terms. 

I dream of owning a scooter before I retire in two years. The thought of going to the market or visiting my grandchildren on a scooter fills me with joy. I imagine the wind blowing in my face and hair, making me feel calm and joyful. I hope my modest dream comes true one day.

Also Read: Everyday struggles of a widow in Punjab