Ranjita Sada, a 15-year-old from the Musahar settlement in Janakpurdham-7, sat with her seven-month-old son in her arms. The fatigue of early motherhood was etched across her youthful face, which still carried a childlike innocence. Ranjita was married two years ago, when she was only 13. She was married off within a year of her first menstruation and became a mother just a year and a half after that. For not conceiving sooner, she says, she had to endure harsh abuse from her family.
Sumitra Sada, slightly older than Ranjita, was married at the age of 12 in the same settlement of Janakpurdham Sub-metropolitan City-7. Now 17, she already has two children. Conversations about her marriage had begun at home as soon as she began menstruating. “My daughter became an adult after her period,” recalls Sumitra’s mother. Sumitra herself adds, “After my first period, everyone started talking about marriage.” She feels that menstruation is not something to be discussed openly. Listening to their stories, it becomes clear that in the Musahar community, menstruation is not seen as a natural stage of growth; it marks the end of childhood.
In this community, where families live in small mud huts and cramped spaces outside the main city, women have little understanding of menstruation. They neither recognize menstrual discrimination as a form of violence nor see it as a human rights issue. Menstruation remains a subject of shame and silence. “No one talks, no one understands,” says 55-year-old Sukaiya Sada. “We Musahars don’t worship the cow during menstruation, but we still have to work in the fields and wash utensils. How can we afford to stop working for four days a month?”
Like most rural women, Musahar women use pieces of cloth during menstruation, as they cannot afford sanitary pads. With few toilets and poor sanitation, the use of unclean cloths has caused serious reproductive health problems. The culture of impurity and silence surrounding menstruation has deeply entrenched the belief that “a girl becomes marriageable after her first period.” This mindset deprives Musahar girls of education and pushes them toward child marriage.
Many girls drop out of school within months of menstruation. “If we get our period in school, there’s nowhere to change clothes,” recalls Sumitra. “After that, we just stop going.” According to Dr. Radha Poudel, an activist working to end menstrual discrimination, associating menstruation with impurity and shame has helped normalize child marriage. Her study notes that “the traditional practice of viewing a menstruating girl as a bride rather than a child disrupts the life cycle of thousands of girls.”
Due to the lack of education and awareness, Musahar women also do not effectively use family planning methods. Most give birth while they are still children themselves and pay little attention to menstrual management or reproductive health. As a result, they face recurring health complications.
Manju Sah, a health worker in Janakpur, says, “Musahar women do not pay attention to hygiene, rest, or diet during menstruation. Most of them use dirty clothes, which causes infections in the genitals and uterus.” She adds that their lives remain at constant risk due to early marriage, early pregnancy, and poor health conditions. “Failing to manage menstruation properly and live with dignity during this period not only harms their health but also violates their human rights,” she says.
According to the National Census 2021, Nepal’s Musahar population is 264,974, of which 179,153 live in Madhes Province. However, the literacy rate among Musahars above the age of five is only 35.8 percent, and in Madhes it drops to just four percent. This widespread illiteracy perpetuates ignorance about menstruation, health, and rights.
Studies show that 63 percent of Musahar women marry between the ages of 15 and 19, a figure that reflects the prevailing notion that menstruation marks adulthood. The National Census 2021 further reveals that in Madhesh Province, over 50 percent of girls are married before the age of 20. Of these, 27.7 percent marry between 15 and 17 years, 9.3 percent between 10 and 14 years, and 0.2 percent before the age of 10, bringing the total of underage marriages to 37.2 percent. An additional 39.5 percent marry between 18 and 20 years. Although the legal age of marriage for men is 20, the average age for women in Madhesh is only 17, meaning that more than half of all marriages involve underage brides.
To address this, local governments have begun awareness campaigns in collaboration with social organizations. They conduct school programs, street plays, and child-friendly activities to educate children and parents about the harms of child marriage. However, despite these efforts, the provincial policy and programs of Madhes have yet to recognize the issue of ‘dignified menstruation.’ Apart from distributing sanitary pads in schools, there are no targeted programs that reach Musahar settlements.
As Dr. Poudel notes, menstrual discrimination reflects deeper structures of power, culture, and gender inequality.
The lives of girls like Ranjita and Sumitra are not isolated stories of personal suffering. They mirror a systemic injustice rooted in silence and stigma. For them, menstruation did not mark a beginning, but an end of childhood. Until menstruation is recognized as a matter of dignity and rights, not shame and silence, girls like Ranjita from Musahar Basti will remain trapped in the cycle of child marriage and deprivation.
