Kumari Devianee Dulloo: The Land, The Empty Stomach, and Victory

Orphaned at 9, a courageous mother at 18, Kumari Devianee Dulloo has lived a life of hard work in the fields. Today, her sons have succeeded. This is the story of a sacrifice that has turned into light.

At 9 years old, Kumari Devianee Dulloo works in vegetable fields—not just on Saturday mornings to help out, nor during school holidays for some pocket money. She works every day because no one else will. Her mother has passed away, and her father has left, abandoning seven children to a struggling aunt. The youngest of the siblings learned early on that life would not be kind. "I did not know childhood. I knew work."

Now 64, she is the last remaining sibling of her seven, alongside a 66-year-old sister. The others have passed away. When she recounts her story, her voice trembles, her words come out with modesty, while tears flow freely.

At 18, she gets married, filled with hope. From this union comes Vikash, her first son. But happiness is short-lived. While pregnant with her second child, at seven months along, her husband leaves her. "My world collapsed," she shares, her eyes misty. At that time, Vikash is just 5 years old.

New Beginning

Pregnant, alone, and unsupported, Kumari refuses to fall into despair. She leaves Pamplemousses, rents a small house in Tyack, Rivière-des-Anguilles, and returns to the vegetable fields. Shortly after, she gives birth to Veeraj, who is now 38.

The following years look the same: the fields, the factory, marriages, and every odd job life offers. She accepts them all. She returns home at night, prepares meals for her sons, and watches them eat. And when the plates are empty, and the children are asleep, she goes to bed herself. "I fed my sons while I slept with an empty stomach."

Not once. Not twice. Entire nights, weeks, maybe months… she isn’t sure, as she lost count. She only knows that her sons were fed, and the rest was her responsibility. "A mother can endure suffering, but she cannot bear to see her children suffer," she firmly states.

Around her, the gazes weigh heavy. A woman alone with two children in a society that judges quickly and forgives little. "There were many prejudices. But I had to think only of my children." She thinks about school, notebooks, uniforms, and the fees she often struggles to pay. She thinks about their futures—futures that she carries alone, at night, with an empty stomach, in her small house in Tyack. "I did everything I could to ensure my sons went to school. Education was their only way out."

The years pass. The sacrifices bear fruit. Doors open. Veeraj is now an assistant superintendent in a school. He has bought land in Tyack. Vikash, employed as a security agent in a clinic, lives in Vacoas and owns his home. Both have their own cars. "I am proud of them. Everything I suffered was worth it."

Her message to women today? "Do not let anyone decide your worth. Even in pain, stand tall. The strength of a woman is greater than any storm." Kumari, better than anyone, knows this.

She still works in the fields. At 64, her hands are in the same soil as when she was 9. But this year, she says, she will stop. "My body is tired. But my heart is at peace."