21/08/2026
THE WOMEN WHO CAME BEFORE ME ❤️
They called them the “Barefoot Chettys.”
But when I hear that name, I don't think of poverty. I think of women who refused to give up. As we celebrate Women’s Month, I’ve been thinking about the women whose shoulders we stand on, women whose lives we may never fully know, but whose strength somehow found its way into us.
One of those women is my great grandmother, Munniama Kuppan Chetty, affectionately known in our family as Aiya.
On my mother’s side is the Chetty clan, a large family whose roots in South Africa began with people who made an extraordinary journey from India.
Aiya arrived in South Africa by ship in 1895, as part of the Indian indentured labour system. My great grandfather (AKA Thatha) arrived around 1890. Both came from the Bangalore area of India, although I’m still piecing together the family history and the connections to Arcot North and Arcot South. I don't have all the answers yet.
And perhaps that's what makes this story even more special. I'm still searching for her.
What I do know is that Aiya worked for the Tongaat Sugar Company, cutting sugar cane.
But cutting sugar cane wasn't all she did. She and her family grew vegetables. They made baskets. They found ways to earn extra money and keep the household going.
And my mother tells me that Aiya and her children often went about their days barefoot because they simply couldn't afford shoes. That's how the name “Barefoot Chettys” came about. But I don't hear that name and think of what they didn't have. I think about what they did with what they had.
Aiya had four daughters and five sons, and her daughters also worked in the sugar cane fields. I keep imagining these women. Working the fields. Growing vegetables. Making baskets. Then walking for miles with baskets balanced on their heads to sell what they had grown. Often barefoot. Their feet touching the very soil they were trying to build a future from. They didn't have the conveniences we have today. They didn't have a safety net. They didn't know whether tomorrow would be easier. But they had their hands. They had their families. They had their determination. And they kept going. That was their hustle. Not a fashionable side hustle. Not a business trend. Survival.
And yet, somewhere between the hard work and the struggle, they still created families, cooked delicious food, passed down recipes, raised children and built a future.
Aiya was also a strong believer in keeping the family connected and encouraged marriages within the family so that the family's resources and wealth could remain within the clan. Over generations, the Chetty family spread across Durban, Pietermaritzburg and Howick, with many branches tracing their connections back to Aiya.
Today there are professionals, business owners, academics and many strong women throughout the Chetty clan. My grandmother and my mother are part of that story. And my mother still carries something of Aiya with her, including the ability to cook and bake some of the most delicious Indian food I've ever tasted. The recipes survived. The family survived. The spirit survived.
And the more I learn about these women, the more I wonder what they dreamed about. Did Aiya dream that her children would have an easier life? Did she imagine great grandchildren and great great grandchildren she would never meet? Did she ever imagine that one day, one of those descendants would sit and wonder about the woman she was?
Perhaps she simply dreamed of a better tomorrow. Whatever those dreams were, we are living in the continuation of them.
So what did Aiya leave me? Resilience. Not wealth. Not an easy road. Not a life without challenges. R.E.S.I.L.I.E.N.C.E.
The ability to keep going when things are difficult. The ability to work with what I have.
The ability to start again. The ability to fall and still find a way to stand. Perhaps that is what our ancestors leave us that cannot be measured. Not what they owned. But what they endured.
This Women’s Month, I want to remember the women who came before me. The women who worked the soil. The women who carried baskets. The women who raised families. The women who created something from almost nothing. The women who dreamed beyond their circumstances. Munniama Kuppan Chetty was one of them. My Aiya... My great granny.
I’m still counting the grandchildren, great grandchildren and great great grandchildren who came after her. There are many of us, and I'm sure there are many more stories still waiting to be uncovered. So this is only the beginning. I'll keep searching. I'll keep asking questions. I'll keep looking through the photographs and listening to the stories. Because our history isn't only found in books.
Sometimes it's sitting in an old photograph.
Sometimes it's hidden inside a family recipe.
Sometimes it's in the stories our mothers tell us. And sometimes...it's in us.
We think we're telling their stories. Perhaps their stories are actually telling us who we are.
What did the women who came before you leave you?
For me, the answer is simple. Resilience.
Below are photographs of Aiya as a young woman with her husband and an older photograph possibly one of the last photographs my mother has of her.
📸 Munniama Kuppan Chetty. My Aiya. ✊🏾
One of the women who came before me. ❤️
(Original family photos digitally enhanced using AI due to age.)
