Every year I choose a university student to accompany me on my win-a-trip journey, which is meant to highlight issues that deserve more attention.My 2024 winner was Trisha Mukherjee, a recent Columbia graduate and budding journalist — and with that, I’m handing the rest of the column over to her.By Trisha Mukherjee, reporting from Pamplemousses, Mauritius.When she was a teenager, Jossy Nation would collect water from a nearby river as the sun rose to wash the well-worn rags she used as sanitary pads, then lay them out to dry in a hidden spot.But during the rainy season in her remote village in Nigeria, the fabric wouldn’t dry, and Ms.
Nation, now 30, would be swallowed by panic.“I feel sick,” she said, recalling the stress of running out of usable rags.
“Sometimes I have to use one rag for the whole 24 hours.”Laser-focused on her education, Ms.Nation would push herself to go to school, even though some of her classmates stayed home during their periods.
In class, she would shift uncomfortably in her seat, worrying that blood would stain her clothes and bring shame.For millions of girls across Africa and Asia today, menstruation means staying home from school.Often, owing to a lack of period products, these girls miss up to a week of class every month.For their families, pads are too expensive, too difficult to access or too taboo to prioritize over other needs.
Even in the United States, where 20 states tax pads and tampons as nonessential, luxury items, one study found that nearly a quarter of teenage girls struggle to afford menstrual products.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe....