They represent a sizeable proportion of the labour force. They work in supermarkets, catering, the hospitality industry, the Export Processing Zone, and also in the relatively more glamorous ‘office’ jobs in call centres, etc.

They are also the women who have to resort to prostitution to survive. Women who are caught in the vicious circle of drugs’ and alcohol abuse; who are HIV-positive or suffer from AIDS. How many are they? Do we know? Does the government know?

They are women who are sexually abused. Women who are raped. Women who have no choice but to have back-street abortions, putting their lives at risk. Women who are the victims of domestic violence.

They do not go to private clinics when they are ill and urgently need medical care. They go to their poorly resourced, local dispensaires and to hospitals where they have to wait for their turn while they may be in agonising pain. If they cannot obtain any prescribed medication from the hospital pharmacy, they cannot afford to buy them either.

They do unpaid work at home. They are not empowered to do anything but are more often humiliated to do everything. They have no autonomy; they cannot be free and independent individuals. They cannot have dreams. They are condemned to a life of misery. Until death beckons.

They are despised by their middle class ‘peers’ who lead comfortable lives. ‘Sisterhood is powerful’, some women used to say. Unfortunately, not for the silent invisible women.

They are the nénènes, the domestic workers in so many Mauritian households, faithful servants and unsung heroines whom many a child in well-off families has vivid and fond memories of long after she/he has grown up.

They are also the workers in the textiles industry. The Sri Lankan female workers who were deported manu militari for allegedly daring to ask for overtime wages in a 70-hour working week.

Either poorly educated or denied an education, they cannot articulate their grievances, whether it is simply a question of winning some dignity or seeking redress to injustices perpetrated against them. They have no voice, no say in anything, they remain silent and invisible.

With the notable exception of the Muvman Liberasyon Fam (MLF) and to some extent SOS-Femmes, there isn’t anybody, any organisation that will stand up for them and fight their cause. They cannot pin their hopes on those middle-class and opportunistic women who suddenly tend to be ‘hyperactive’ in any election year, seemingly determined to fill the yawning gap in female political representation.

And in all the nauseating tamassa of the past few weeks around the question of political alliances, not a word has been uttered about the precarious situation and vulnerability of the large numbers of invisible women who do so much in silence.

It is high time that they are put on the policy agenda of the next government. And for voluntary organisations, NGOs, trade unions and women’s groups to try and do more for these vulnerable members of our society.