WOMEN’S SAVINGS PARTIES IN UZBEKISTAN

The concept of saving money in a Uzbek bank
is complete anathema. Uzbek national banks are as corrupt as the rest of the business
world and most people will go to any length to keep their money out of them. Better to
bribe your boss into giving your wages in cash, than trying to bribe the bank into
releasing even a fraction of your wages. To deal with this situation, women’s'
savings parties take place all over Uzbekistan to provide women with an opportunity to
save money despite overwhelming odds. Many western assumptions about saving money fall
flat in cultures like Uzbekistan's. No one has financial autonomy over their wages, least
of all women. Duty bound to lend to relatives and neighbors, it's almost impossible to put
money aside without news spreading and a line forming at your front door. As for a woman
keeping money from her husband, how could he refuse his unexpected guests the best vodka
and mutton in lavish quantities?

We follow one Uzbek woman named Zulhamar as the sun has begun to set, reflecting off
the shimmering tiles that decorate the madrassahs and minarets that have made Khiva
famous as a Silk Road Oasis. But Zulhamar has no time for sunsets as she picks her way
through streets of potholes and scampering children, greeting neighbors and relatives. She
is on her way to her monthly women’s savings party. She arrives at her friend
Gulnora's house relieved, clutching her purse containing the equivalent of two week's
wages, and joins the other chattering guests. There are ten other women, sitting
cross-legged around a huge table cloth spread on the floor and covered in fruit, salads,
cakes and tea.

All the women are connected in some way, as relatives, neighbors or friends and it is
this bond of trust that makes their savings party work. After huge shared plates of rice
and mutton have been dispensed with, and all the latest gossip is chewed over, each of the
women hands over a bundle of notes to Gulnora and ask her what she will do with her
savings. Gulnora had planned to buy a loom and wool with the money, but recently found an
ideal match for her teenage son and will use the money to pay for the wedding. Before
leaving, the women discuss who will host the party next month, and walk home dreaming of
how they will use their cash bonanza of five months wages, when their turn comes around.

Despite this financial climate, Uzbeks have found a way to save money that capitalizes
on their cultural asset of strong links of trust within a community. Saving parties are
not a new concept introduced by western development agencies, but rather a time honored
and respected way of saving money that existed long before such concepts became
fashionable among development agencies. Money is saved, not on a month-to-month basis via
a faceless banking system, but on a person to person basis, with the breaking of bread
cementing the trust and transaction more than an invoice could ever do. During Soviet
rule, the official sign hanging above bank buildings read "The People's Bank," a
sign that did not garner a great deal of trust. But the community institution of
"people’s banking" through savings parties has endured in women’s
communities of Uzbekistan.

Chris Aslan, development worker in Khiva