As our convoy of three cars arrived to Bamuliya, a village an hour out of Bhopal, we were met by a gaggle of men. They escorted us to a field neatly planted with grasspea.

I asked which of the men was the farmer and then attached a microphone to his shirt. I forgot some equipment, so I hiked back to the car. As I passed the farmhouse a woman in a glowing red sari came out the door and looked to see where everyone had disappeared to. I greeted her with a ‘namaste’, grabbed my gear and returned to the gaggle. The woman in red followed.

She came up to my colleague, Shivali, and said ‘Why are they speaking to my husband? I am the one who prepared the soil. I am the one who sowed the seeds. I am the one who comes out here every day to take care of this crop. Why don’t they speak to me?’

I asked the man earlier identified as the farmer to step into the grasspea field for a photo. Shivali grabbed Shushila and said ‘Here is your farmer. Take her photo.’ The husband acknowledged that and stepped aside so I could photograph his wife in the grasspea plot that she had nurtured so well over the past few months.

The case of Shushila is hardly unique. The contribution of women to the agricultural labour’s force worldwide is tremendous but women’s voices are rarely heard.

I’m so happy Sushila stepped out of her home so I could capture her endearing smile and help acknowledge the significant contribution she has made.