KOCHI: For over a century, the Ernakulam Women’s Association has been a space where women of the city could gather without apology, play cards without guilt, and speak without being spoken over.
The Ernakulam Women’s Association, then called Stree Mahajam, was founded by Parukutty Valiya Nethiaramma, consort of the Cochin ruler. Notable members include V K Lakshmikutty Nethiaramma, consort of the third prince of Cochin, and Ambadi Kartyainiamma, first woman graduate of the Kerala, among others.
According to local historian V N Venugopal, the association was conceptualised during a closed-door meeting at the Ernakulam Public Library on March 23, 1918.
The members met at Maharaja’s school for while, but as their numbers grew, they decided to have a permanent home in a quiet building on Durbar Hall Road in Kochi, where it continues to operate from even today.
The association opened its doors in early 1920s as a recreational den for the finest ladies of Kochi.
But it did not remain merely a social club. The association also functioned as a workshop for producing and collecting necessities for soldiers during World War II: socks and mufflers were stitched with care; milk powder and food items were collected and dispatched to the war front. In later decades, relief work during floods and crises became routine.
Soon, the body earned what few civic clubs manage: “social teeth.” Today, that bite appears to have become blunt.
While the association still boasts 550-odd members on paper, fewer than 300 are considered active, according to its current president Gita Menon. And even then, they gather largely for periodic events rather than sustained programming.
More alarmingly, even though the association's ties with Ernakulam is embedded in its name, with its current membership it does not even cater to the entirety of Kochi city.
Gita has a plausible theory why. "Durbar Hall Road is no longer the cultural heartbeat of the city. And neither is the nearby MG Road the commercial corridor that it once was," she told TNIE. She has a point.
Kochi’s centre of gravity has considerably shifted, and with it, footfall.
"Furthermore," she added, "residential associations across neighbourhoods have grown more assertive and self-sufficient, addressing local needs with speed and proximity. And therefore, the idea of a centralised women’s body feels, to some, outdated."
There’s also the problem of perception. Young women pursuing demanding careers often see the association as catering primarily to senior citizens. And the association leadership, for its part, admits to hesitating on aggressive outreach, citing limited amenities.
“Compared to other institutions, we have limited amenities. I’m not sure how alluring the association is to the younger generation,” Gita said.
“Earlier, we used to hold events more frequently. Even that had dwindled, especially after the Covid. And with that, so has our revenue,” she highlighted.
Recently, the association had to part with a portion of its space to a bank so that its costs could be met in the face of falling revenue streams.
But zoom away and the circular trap is clear. No advertising because the
infrastructure is modest. No revenue because membership has stagnated. Limited membership because no advertising.
And yet, to write off the association would be premature.
Institutions such as this carry memory. “This one in particular represents
the first organised assertion of women’s public presence in the city,”
Sreekumari Menon, the association’s former president, told TNIE earlier.
Indeed, the Ernakulam Women’s Association cannot be allowed to fade into nostalgia. It must rediscover its edge--as a forum for debate, mentorship, policy advocacy and intergenerational dialogue.
Gita and her team are already mulling changes. “The institution is a perfect vehicle to learn about the city whilst also contributing to its social and cultural upliftment. We wish more young women would join us,” Gita said, adding, “All your suggestions are welcome.”