Haseena’s story

She Thought It Was Age, We Knew It Was Cataract

How a rural woman’s fading vision went unnoticed until help arrived at her doorstep.

It was early in the morning when we set out for a monitoring visit in Lakshmangarh block, Alwar district. As I walked down the narrow lanes of the village, surrounded by golden mustard fields swaying gently in the breeze, I was reminded of how peaceful the countryside can be. The yellow blossoms stretched endlessly on both sides of the path, and the air was crisp and clean, a far cry from the chaos and smog of city life. The silence was comforting, the air refreshingly clean. You find a different kind of hope here, deep-rooted, quietly resilient. But amidst this hope, I have also come to see the invisible burdens carried by many women in rural communities. Especially when it comes to health.

During a routine monitoring visit for our Rural Eye Health Programme we decided to visit one of our cataract surgery beneficiaries, Haseena. Navigating through the narrow lanes of the village, we reached her home. What greeted us was a beautiful, bustling joint family of three generations living under one roof. Laughter echoed from the verandah, children darted in and out of rooms, and in the middle of it all stood Haseena, with a broad grin, her eyes now healing.

We were visiting Haseena, one of the beneficiaries of a cataract surgery facilitated under Sightsavers India’s Netra Vasant – Rural Eye Health Programme, supported by Metso. Her home stood in the middle of a large joint family setup, buzzing with children, women tending to chores and men getting ready for the day’s work. They are a traditional Muslim family engaged in making milk cake, a sweet delicacy that has been their family trade for generations. The aroma of boiling milk and sugar welcomed us as warmly as the family did. Before we could even settle in, Haseena insisted we taste the sweets fresh from their kitchen, still warm and soft, which was accompanied by a glass of fresh cow’s milk from the cow tied nearby. Hospitality like this humbles you.

But behind this warmth was a quiet struggle.

For over a year, she had been struggling with vision problems. She didn’t know it was cataract. She thought perhaps it was just part of growing older. While cooking, she started burning her hands. She often stumbled while walking around the house or outside, especially on uneven ground. Her world had slowly turned into a blur, but she didn’t say anything. Like many rural women, she endured it silently, accepting pain as part of life.

In her words, “My work was still mine to do—whether I could see clearly or not.”

This is the gender gap that is often overlooked in health, women, especially older women, rarely prioritise their own health. Caught in cycles of caregiving and household responsibilities, their needs come last. Haseena never considered seeking help, nor did anyone notice until one of our community mobilisers knocked on her door during a routine door-to-door eye screening in Lakshmangarh.

That screening was the turning point. Our trained staff identified the problem, referred her to our vision centre at the Lakshmangarh Community Health Centre and from there, she was linked to the government district hospital where she underwent cataract surgery free of cost.

When we met her, she had completed a month of post-surgery recovery. She wore black protective glasses to shield her eyes from Rajasthan’s sharp sun, but her face was full of light. She smiled and said, “I didn’t know I could feel this free again.”

 Eye health is often neglected in global and national health priorities—after all, it doesn’t cause death. But what it does cause is slow, quiet suffering that eats away at a person’s independence and dignity.

In Haseena’s case, untreated cataract was pushing her into isolation within her own home. For a woman whose hands create a traditional sweet that carries the taste of her heritage, losing her vision was like losing her identity. Her story is simple, yet powerful. Without our door-to-door screening, her condition might have worsened silently. In cities, healthcare is often just a short ride away, but in villages, access is a privilege. People here live rich, grounded lives full of culture, family, and tradition but when it comes to health, they are often left behind.

That is why this programme matters.

Sightsavers India’s Rural Eye Health Programme is not just about restoring sight, it’s about giving women like Haseena their agency back. It’s about ensuring that they can walk, cook, care for their grandchildren, and live with confidence. And this is only possible because of the timely identification of vision problems and the seamless linkages that we are building between the community, the health system, and district-level services.

Our work is possible because of support from donors like Metso, who recognise the deep, life-changing impact of something as seemingly simple as an eye exam or a cataract surgery. Their belief in the worth of our work helps us reach those who would otherwise be left behind.

There are many more women like Haseena in remote villages, quietly suffering, unknowingly adapting to poor vision, thinking it’s just “part of life.” But with continued outreach, awareness, and compassionate healthcare, we can ensure that they are not invisible anymore.