“Hard labor and sleepless nights,” says Pandiamma, 37, as she crushes dried red pepper flakes in her palm in Mattiyarenthal village, Tamil Nadu. The region is scorching in March — highs of 95–105 F — and the sharp scent of chile hangs in the air. Pandiamma stands amid carpets of deep, cherry-shaped mundu chiles, a hardy local variety sown during the monsoon in October–November and harvested from January through May. After picking, peppers are laid out to dry for five to ten days, watched closely because a sudden shower can ruin a whole batch.
Growing mundu chiles is labor-intensive: workers crouch to pluck each pod by hand, then dry and sort them. The work is seasonal and punishing, which women say discourages men from taking it on. “Not many men step up to do it under these conditions,” Pandiamma says. “But for women, chile is a godsend. If we labor hard enough in the fields for those few months, that extra income is enough to keep our homes running for the rest of the year.”
In this part of southern India, women dominate agricultural labor. Vallal Kannan of Krishi Vigyan Kendra, a government agricultural center, says more than 70% of agricultural activities in the region have long been carried out by women. Some own the land they farm, many do not; some work as hired hands during harvest, earning daily wages. Members of Thendral Magalir Kullu and hundreds of similar self-help groups, all-women producer companies and informal banking groups organize labor, pool resources and lend to members.
On a mid-March afternoon, 44-year-old Rajeshwari returns from the fields with bucket after bucket of bright, round chilies. She started at 8 a.m. and worked through the day, pausing only for a brief lunch. Back home she grades the drying chiles by hand, picking out pale or damaged pods that fetch half the price of top-quality fruit. A kilo of top-quality chiles sells for a little over 300 rupees (about $3), and in a good year a woman farming an acre can earn roughly $2,000. Size and rich red color drive prices; paler pods are sold separately because every penny counts.
This season prices have surged after untimely rains last year flooded crops and spread fungal disease, reducing supply. But the unpredictability of weather — and the lack of formal protections — is a constant worry. Rasakumari, 60, who owns 15 acres, lost seven acres when a nearby reservoir overflowed during unseasonal rains. Because mundu chile is not covered by government crop insurance, she received no compensation. Many women also lack clear land deeds, complicating access to low-interest loans that require land as collateral.
To cope, women rely on community networks and local initiatives. Krishi Vigyan Kendra and private companies like Thiruvadanai Nerkkalanjiyam Farmer Producer Company provide training in organic farming and income-boosting practices. Vellimalar, a social worker and managing trustee, assists up to 500 women farmers with loans and policy guidance. Hundreds of informal banking groups — more than 8,000 among the pepper farmers — collect small monthly contributions so members can borrow in emergencies or to buy seeds and tools. Still, many older women are excluded from some groups because of age limits; Veni, 62, who works her husband’s two acres alone after his stroke, was barred and wishes she could access the fund to hire help.
Women have developed on-farm strategies to increase resilience. Intercropping between chile plants with eggplant, tomatoes, onions, cluster beans, groundnuts and even cotton adds income and diversity. Castor oil plants are grown along field borders to attract pests away from chiles. Goats are widely reared as a year-round livelihood: their milk, meat and manure provide steady income and enrich the soil before planting season. “To me, goats mean freedom and entertainment,” says Nagavalli, 42.
Practical improvements have also helped: government-run cold storage in Ettivayal offers inexpensive storage — about 18 cents a month for a 55-pound sack — allowing farmers to hold stock and sell when prices rise. Motorcycles subsidized for working women help haul sacks of chillies from fields to home and markets. Yet many smallholders must sell immediately to pay debts and household expenses, limiting their ability to time sales for better returns. Dealers and middlemen often control prices once the crop leaves the farmer’s hands.
Women’s work in the chile economy is relentless. They pick swiftly in the sun — some can fill ten buckets in as many minutes — and then work evenings grading and guarding drying batches against rain. Pandiamma and others sleep light, listening for raindrops so they can throw tarpaulins over vulnerable chile heaps. Despite the hardships, they point to independence and community solidarity as gains: collective action, microfinance, producer companies and training have improved incomes and bargaining power.
The United Nations declared 2026 the International Year of the Woman Farmer to spotlight the essential, often overlooked labor of women in agriculture. For these mundu chile pickers in Ramanathapuram, the work is physically demanding and risky, but it also offers livelihood, agency and a measure of freedom. “Chile fills our lives with its heat,” says Victoria, 39, “but in spite of the challenges, we’ve found freedom.”
Kamala Thiagarajan is a freelance journalist in Madurai who reports on global health, science and development.