Married off at 16, widowed at 19, and thrown out of her in-laws’ home with a two-month-old in her arms. Even after such dead ends, Vibha Singh would one day become a major in the Indian army.
On the eve of Women’s Day, the now-retired officer was the chief guest at New Town’s EMRI Green Health Services, a private company operating under a public-private partnership with the government. The organisation runs the 102 helpline, that provides free ambulance services for pregnant women and infants in emergencies, ensuring they reach the nearest government hospital.
“Major Singh’s story is an inspiration for all,” said Bikash Das, chief operating officer of the body. “Many of our employees come from humble backgrounds, and 40 per cent of the paramedics in our ambulances are women. We prioritise diversity, provide a safe work environment, and offer opportunities for professional growth as we realise their income directly supports five other family members.”
Here is what Major Singh shared-
I come from a lower-middle-class background. I was born in Jhumri Telaiya, then a part of Bihar, where my father was a farmer. As the eldest of five sisters and two brothers, I was married off in 1988, after completing Class X, to an Army captain.
My husband had excelled in school, college, and service, but my in-laws refused to let me live with him at his posting. They feared that if his wife stayed with him, he would stop sending money home to support the joint family. But when I became pregnant, doctors advised that I stay in the city for regular check-ups, so I was finally allowed to join him.
Two months after our daughter was born, my husband passed away in his sleep — right next to me. I was 19.
I was still recovering from childbirth complications, and so funeral, rituals — none of it registered. When I finally regained my senses, I discovered that, because I had been a minor at the time of our wedding, the Army had no official record of it. The financial support meant for the next of kin went to my husband’s brother instead of me.
Following my case, the Army introduced new regulations requiring a colleague from an officer’s unit to witness a wedding for evidence. It also became mandatory to open a joint bank account with one’s spouse after marriage.
Nonetheless, my in-laws refused to take me in. To them, I was useless as I had given birth to a girl. I had no choice but to return to my parents’ home, but I soon realised I was unwelcome there too. Marriage changes everything. Previously, I could take anything in the house without a second thought, but now, I had to ask my sister-in-law or mother for permission even for the smallest thing. It didn’t help that I had come with a child and that there were several siblings after me.
For three years, I was in despair but gradually I saw the neighbourhood children going to school and realised that I had no means to educate my daughter.
At the nearby Danapur cantonment, I found a job at a nursery school and simultaneously enrolled at Patna University (I had completed Class XII at my in-law’s place before my husband’s demise). When my parents decided to move out to our village, I chose to stay back with my child. The only accommodation I could afford was a garage, but I was determined. I completed my BA and MA.
Then one day, the principal of the nursery school pointed out that I was qualified now to apply to the Army. Until then, I hadn’t even known that the Army recruited women.
I cleared the Services Selection Board (SSB) exam in Allahabad and enrolled at Officers Training Academy, Chennai. Out of 216 trainees, 40 were women, and only one was a mother. In fact, I was the first mother trainee in the history of our Army.
The other women came from privileged backgrounds, arriving in cars whereas I had never even owned a bicycle. Our classes were held 2–3km away from one another, and we had only five-minute breaks to reach them between sessions. I would run—panting—to make it. Eventually, I got a bicycle and learned to ride.
I topped the merit list and got multiple postings. But I was on the short service commission (SSC) and my tenure ended after 14 years. I was also ineligible for a pension since I hadn’t completed 20 years of service.
After leaving the Army, I took up other jobs. I also refused to be dishonest anywhere. And then my daughter met with an accident and was bedridden for a year. Through life’s challenges, I’ve learned that when 10 problems arise, one must prioritise two and tackle them first. I resigned from my job to look after her. Now she is a doctor in Gurgaon and I am once again looking for a job. I am keen to return to Bengal should I get employment here.
I am also the vice-president of Sainya Matri Shakti, a group that supports women related to the Army. I get a lot of queries from army widows asking about benefits and provisions.
I know I am not the only one to have faced hardships, but I refuse to resign myself to fate.