Bankers turn counsellors at this UP village during the COVID-19 pandemic

The staff now counsels its customers and helps them wade through misinformation

coronavirus-covid-up-bankers1 Bankers turn counsellors while battling own anxiety during pandemic | Puja Awasthi

A little before 9.30 am, a staff of six, and two constables are in place at a rural branch of a nationalised bank. The circles are marked, the sanitizer bottles put out and the masks tightened.

We are about 30 kilometres from Lucknow near the Central Institute of Sub Tropical Horticulture Sciences at Rehman Khera. Here a two-room branch-- an outer waiting area and an inner operational room has seen an influx of an average of 100 customers per day since the lockdown was announced on March 25.

Unlike most bank branches which have operated at reduced staff strengths during various points in the lockdown, this branch, like most rural ones, has maintained its regular numbers. "We cannot manage with reduced strength. We will not be able to serve the customers", says the manager.

In addition to normal banking duties, the staff now counsels its customers and helps them wade through misinformation-- not all of it financial.

People are fearful of their accounts becoming dormant. Thus, there are cases of them withdrawing money one day and putting it back a day later. "Among the many rumours is one that if you do not withdraw the money put in by the government, it will we taken back by the government. Another is that your account will stop being operational", says a senior bank employee.

The branch has 4243 Jan Dhan accounts-- the accounts to which the government has made financial transfers during the pandemic. This includes transfers under the Ujjwala Yojana (Rs. 778.50), Kisan Samman Nidhi (Rs. 500), the Jan Dhan scheme (Rs. 500) and the Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Generation Act (depending on the number of days an individual has worked).

Though the size of these transfers has been called into question for being too small, the bank manager says that they are a much-needed buffer.

Waheeda Khatoon, a customer in her 40’s, who has walked two kilometres to get to the branch says that she has managed to get only part of her quota of the mandated ration. She will however neither name her village nor the kotedar (the fair price shop owner) for fear that even that partial distribution might be withdrawn. "Kuch toh hai" (there is something at least) she says clutching the three Rs 500 notes she has just withdrawn from her account.

Almost a month into the lockdown there is still talk of the pandemic being no more than a terror tactic unleashed to keep people in their homes.

Mohd Rafeeq (18), who drove his own car for private parties and weddings before the lockdown says that the powerful in the village has benefitted from the rumour. "The Pradhan has been even more arbitrary than ever in giving people work under MGNREGA", he says. Again, no names are offered.

The staff constantly slips in messages about precautionary measures during their brief chats with customers. Men are asked to be 'patient'-- a gentle reminder to not resort to violence at home as they find it difficult to be without work.

Outside the one operational room, a list of more practical dos and don'ts is pasted for the customers to read.

"Sab ka kaam hoga" (Everyone's work will be done) is however possibly the most repeated and most reassuring staff statement.

The staff come from a 30-kilometre radius. "I would earlier use public transport which took me 45 minutes to get to work. Now we pool in drives and it takes me 15 minutes to get to work", says the branch's youngest staff member-- a 28-year-old.

She says that she had seen demonetisation. But that was nothing like the pandemic. "Then the challenge was managing large cash inflows-- more a matter of security. Now the challenge is to stay infection free and alive. But when do you get an opportunity to serve the nation like this", she says from behind a dupatta wound tightly across her face.

In between verifying withdrawal slips, counting notes and calling out to customers, she mentions that she lives alone and that her landlord has maintained a distance from her. "His two young children would often come to play with me. Now he shouts from behind a closed door that I must not forget to lock the gate behind me", she says. Her family has been worried about her safety, but it helps that she has a brother-in-law who is also a banker and thus helps allay their fears.

The branch has accounts from 11 villages. A petrol pump on the highway is among its list of clients so it has not needed any transfers of cash to its coffers thus far.

An Internal Senior Auditor is present at the branch to oversee operations. "Our aim is to make banking as smooth as possible. There are cases where the KYC (know your customer) norms are not complete, but we cross-check with our internal system, with other identification documents that a customer might have and try not to turn anyone away. We must be cautious yet judicious. Sometimes it becomes difficult to make a customer understand why he can't present a self-drawn cheque without the presence of the account holder. Also, as most accounts are in the name of the women, they tend to come in groups of three to four to the bank. We have to keep telling them about distancing", he says.

 His posting at this branch is for a few days and then he will be shifted to another one to ensure compliance with all norms. He has his own anxieties-- particularly about a young daughter who is away from home and alone. "She gets nightmares and finds it difficult to sleep", he says.

 Yet as he punches the keyboard on his computer to bring up information on a very slow server he shrugs, "Work must go on".