Energy is Power. It enables light and learning, work and ease. Power. Even more for women than men.
I can’t stop thinking of this as I sit in a darkened room among 40 women draped in fluorescent scarves of pink and orange and red in Rajasthan, India. The village is called Manpura Manchedi, a patch of a place, just one dot among the endless lush, green fields in this region where incomes tend to be low and culture, more conservative.
The government has made energy a development priority here. You can see the extension of the national grid to this outer place. Televisions sit in a few of the small scattered homes.
So why is this group of women sitting in the dark in the middle of the day? They are here to understand the potential of solar energy and its much greater reliability than the electric grid, especially here — especially for the poor.
About a quarter of the world’s population living off the grid — 300 million or so — reside here in India, mostly in remote, rural communities like Manpura. Right now, India’s grid only has capacity of less than 300 gigawatts, but the country has big plans for its energy sector. Just last year, Prime Minister Narendra Modi pledged to achieve universal electrification and increase the country’s solar installations from below 5GW to 100GW by the end of 2022. Today, solar power accounts for just one percent of India’s energy production. Prime Minister Modi’s ambitious vision would put India at double the present solar capacity of China and Germany, the world’s two biggest solar nations.
That kind of transformation takes time — and a great deal of capital. Prime Minister Modi’s aim, which he spoke about at last month’s Paris climate talks, was to raise $1 trillion in global funding for developing solar technology by 2030. India doesn’t have the time to wait. Nor do these 40 women. Nor, in fact, does the world. By 2022, India is expected to surpass China as the world’s most populous nation and our global population is expected to reach 10 billion by 2030.
That’s why, in 2007, Acumen started looking at off-grid solutions and investing in innovative entrepreneurs creating smart, renewable approaches to bring power to the poor faster, cheaper and more effectively. We made our first investment in India’s energy sector a year later and today we support seven companies providing the country’s underserved communities with cleaner, safer, more efficient sources of renewable energy.
One of those investments is Frontier Markets, a last-mile solar distribution company founded by Ajaita Shah, an irrepressible force who is committed to bringing energy to millions in India. She is my host in Manpura, where she has been training women in the benefits of solar. She is also always looking for potential sale agents.
Ajaita is sitting cross-legged on the floor, speaking enthusiastically to the women while waving her arms. “What are the best purposes of light?” she asks, her dark brown eyes flashing, a cheerleader for solar.
The women are nervous. At first, they respond haltingly though their answers come more quickly with each new benefit articulated.
“So our children can study.”
“To find the bathroom in the night.”
“So that we don’t get sick from smoke.”
“It is not dangerous like kerosene.”
Ajaita, young, determined, fierce, compassionate, flips the switch to turn on a solar lantern and places the unit in the center of the circle. At once, the women become lighter, livelier. Their bodies lean into the lantern, faces filled with curiosity, listening to this social entrepreneur who wants to change the world.
All of them technically have access to the grid, but it’s clearly not enough. Most have access to less than two hours of electricity a day — so little they resent having to pay the government for grid-supplied electricity. When the women save enough money, they’d rather purchase a solar home system.
“How can that be?” I ask. “What is wrong with the grid?” Answers fly around the room.
“The electricity is unreliable.”
“Sometimes down for 12 hours a day.”
“It is expensive.”
“Quality is low.”
“We pay someone who steals it to use it. We cannot trust it.”
I ask whether a mini-grid might be better for them than the traditional grid. Some women shrug their shoulders, though no one answers clearly. “What about a household system?,” I ask, knowing that it generates less energy than a micro-grid or the grid itself but gives households more control over their electricity use.
“That is better,” they say with a laugh. “There is no question,” a woman states, now giggling with her hand in front of her mouth. “I prefer a household system.”
Her name is Murli Devi. Her bright orange dupatta accentuates black sparkling eyes, set wide apart with no trace of artifice. She says she knows very little, for she is illiterate. I tell her that is of no matter — she still knows what works best for her. “What makes you confident that the household system is a better option?,” I ask.
“You see,” she says, “A solar home system brings fearless energy.”
“Why is that?” I ask. “Why is the energy fearless?
Giggling again, she finally slows down to explain. “You see, with a grid connection, there is always a wire. It doesn’t matter if it is the national grid or a mini-grid. When there is a wire, you must pay someone — for life. You are not free. With a home product, we pay for some time, but then the system is ours. And you see, the energy from the sun is free.
So it is fearless energy. And it is ageless too.”
Murli Devi’s poetic spirit fills the space, drawing me close. I tell her she should become a sales agent. Ajaita has had the same idea: “Would you be interested in doing that?,” she asks Murli Devi. The woman smiles affirmatively. “I have two sons and their children are growing so I have little to do other than farm my chilies and cauliflower. I want a tension-free life and would like to earn income for that.”
Like solar energy, Murli Devi is fearless and ageless.
