3.1.1 So, what does the evidence say about the success of quota system?

The short answer is that the quota system has neither fully achieved its desired goal nor has fostered a shift in attitudes to enable female leadership in local water governance in rural areas. The assumption that representative participation improves broader governance and distribution remains unproven. Even if equal participation were to be achieved in representative spaces, there is no evidence that it is transformational in isolation.

The aim of this section is to untangle the different myths surrounding the narrative of quota system. A total of 21 studies looked at the participation of women in water governance systems [42,45,47–49,51,53–55,60,69,70,72,74–77,79,80,82,83,86]. These studies are based in 11 countries across four continents covering parts of Bangladesh, Bolivia, Ghana, India, Kenya, Lesotho, Malawi, Namibia, Nepal, Nigeria, Solomon Islands, and Uganda. A crucial disclaimer is that references to countries in this paper specifically pertain to the sample within the study’s context. This distinction is made to avoid contributing to the homogenization of populations or perpetuating myths, which this paper seeks to critique.

To put ‘participation’ into context, Hannah et al. [76] share a definition by Agarwal as that which enables women to influence decisions, contribute to the overall governance system, and go beyond group membership [88–90]. The process of participation in different activities remains as important as its outcomes. Critical to the process is how women represent other women’s interests, whether they can speak up, and if anyone listens [76]. To help visualize the variations or similarities in water committees across LMICs, we compiled a table (S6 Table Country-wise water committees and quota compliance) showing country-wise different names of the water committees, its quota stipulations, whether the quota was met, and if the study contradicted or supported the narrative.

3.1.2 Myth 1.1: Gender quota ensures a minimum number of women in water committees.

The quota system in rural water policy has largely failed to achieve its intended outcomes, in both achieving numerical representation, as well as improved water governance, thus challenging the implicit assumptions that having equity in representation would produce better outcomes. Evidence shows that women’s representation in water committees remains inadequate. Despite explicit legislation formalizing women’s rights to participate, most quotas, whether 33% or 50%, remained unmet.

A few positive outcomes of the quota system were noted such as the fact that explicit legislation acknowledged women’s rights to participate in natural resource governance [76], which is seen to have gained some traction [51], and is a way of formalizing and ensuring women’s participation in decision-making spaces that are otherwise traditionally male-dominated [82]. Such policies with affirmative action were also interpreted to challenge the traditional gender roles of domestic water managers to more formal public water managers [51]. Women in WASH leadership positions were also found to have the potential to bring and inspire other women’s voices to the policy space [75], which was contested elsewhere as shown later. Based on the included studies, women’s representation in water committees seemed to be successful only when it was either all-women groups [80] or when it was limited to two women per committee [69]. In the case of all-women groups, the existing Self-Help Groups (SHGs), primarily created for microfinance were given added water-related tasks. Everywhere else that stipulated 33% or 50% representation failed in its achievements [45,47,51,53,54,76,79,82,86]. One instance of a brief gender quota success was documented where young women felt heard, and respected to be counted among community leaders, and that opportunities opened up for other women in the community to participate, attend trainings, meetings, etc. [69]. Contrastingly, another study found that women were under-represented in committees and their suggestions mostly ignored [75].

Another instance of success was captured by a study (assessed as low quality) which briefly described how women in rural Malawi were actively involved in decision-making, recordkeeping, and maintenance of water systems [54]. But, this study led by a team from a prominent development organisation was more of an advocacy commentaryand it was unclear how 50–70% women’s representation in Borehole User Associations (BUAs) was a marker of their active participation [54].

Some nominal representation success in a Kenyan study with at least one woman serving on the committees was attributed to government oversight and external reviews as reinforcements [76]. Despite such external measures, only 69% of committees were able to meet the quota here. Even with increase in women’s representation, the study found that women did not appear to participate as meaningfully as men. The gender quota vision was thus conditional not only on women’s representation but also on how they participated in committee activities [76].

Even if a woman was elected, her spouse would be the actual one in the role [47]. In some places, the 50% rule was relaxed to make 40% acceptable but even then, communities failed to meet the quota [53]. In an instance that observed eight of the nine villages acheiving 50% women’s representation, the other paid positions of water attendants, however, such as guard, pump, and tank attendant went to men [50].

In a few occasions, forget meeting the quota, entire committees were found to be non-functional [79,82]. Sometimes, women participated only in the initial meetings, with a decline as time passed [82]. The representation of women and marginalized communities will remain nominal without adequately internalizing the need for gender equality in committees [82].

One of the most striking observation is from Uganda with the same author publishing two papers based on overlapping sites (Sheema appears in both) but also new ones (Lwengo in the later one) [51,86]. Both studies point to no significant improvement with women’s participation continuing to remain low and with not a single village in the latter study meeting the quota stipulation.

3.1.3 Myth 1.2: Gender quotas enable women on committees to perform roles equally to men.

This myth was challenged by evidence from various contexts. Studies revealed that while quotas may ensure women’s nominal representation in water committees, entrenched gender hierarchies and local socio-cultural norms often limited their actual influence. Leadership positions, such as chairperson, were predominantly held by men, with women typically relegated to roles perceived as less influential, such as treasurer, often justified by gendered assumptions around trustworthiness and domestic responsibility. The persistence of patriarchal norms in role allocation and decision-making processes calls for a critical re-evaluation of how gender quotas are implemented. We are also critical of the scale of influence and the function of voluntary committees, challenging assumptions around community-based service delivery models.

The structure of a committee, typically, had an executive body with key positions such as chairperson, secretary, and treasurer with variations including added positions of vice-secretary in Kenya [76], vice-chair in Kenya and Uganda [76], vice-treasurer and cluster chair in some villages of Kenya [76], a caretaker in Namibia [45], sub-contracting a private operator in Tanzania [50]. The number of people in each committee too varied between villages and countries such as 5–13 members in Kenya [76] and 4–12 members in Solomon Islands [79].

Villages in the Solomon Islands had a completely different approach with almost every committee having a different composition such as no secretary or additional positions such as technical officer, two vice-chairs, or even volunteers [79]. In a few cases, they also had a unique approach of ‘everyone is in the water committee’ making everyone responsible for the maintenance and repair of their water pipes and stands.

A process of institutional bricolage was observed, defined as the process whereby stakeholders of natural resource management institutions do not always strictly adhere to formal institutional rules but instead reject or reformulate them to suit their needs based on their local socially rooted beliefs [82].

Based on the included studies, we noted that the most important leadership position of chairperson typically was occupied by men [45,50,51,69,76,79]. In studies in South Asia, it was mostly occupied by so-called upper-caste men and in a few instances of women’s leadership in other executive positions, such as treasurer, the women came either from influential families or had a history of leadership in previous community groups [82].

The role division was often based on the patriarchal gendered division of labour or local gendered assumptions. It remained a hierarchical male-dominated structure with only nominal female representation. Men perceived women as subordinates to carry out their instructions rather than equals. Even when appointed to key positions such as treasurer, women weren’t given a chance to perform them [69]. Roles were often along gender lines with women made responsible for cleanliness and hygiene, and mobilizing other women and children while men were deemed responsible for planning, design, and construction [53,69]. Cleaning water point surroundings were considered ‘feminine’ whereas repairing was ‘masculine’ [50].

Women were usually relegated to treasurer positions which are seen as likely less influential [76]. Hannah et al. [76] developed a model and found that gender was a statistically significant predictor for serving in the chair and treasurer positions, with men more likely to serve as a chair and women more likely as a treasurer [76]. Women were almost always appointed treasurer based on local belief that they are less likely to misuse public funds [82]. Age became a factor with often older women being preferred as treasurers but the position itself was not recognized locally as a key role [45]. Women took care of household money here and were often seen as responsible ones who didn’t spend unnecessarily or give into ‘temptation’. So rather than accounting skills, someone locally deemed trustworthy was elected as treasurer [45].

In oddity to elsewhere trends on treasurer roles, one study found men to serve as treasurers which was considered a key position. Only one out of the nine villages studied had a female in the post and attendance of women generally too was very poor at village meeting assemblies where key water deliberations were made [50].

Caretaker tasks were assigned to men as they required physical strength and were associated with their pastoral labour [45]. Several women noted that they rarely were engaged in water management except for cooking for workers during the installation of water system [79]. Scuderi et al. [83] reveal that civic participation tends to reproduce the structure of society, in societies where women’s progress is restricted, their participation in community activities is often similarly constrained [83]. Therefore, this sort of nominal representation in committees only serves a tick-marking purpose [82] and it does not automatically ensure women’s influence [50].

The election process for these committees too seemed a bit compromised with local gender power relations coming into play. Schnegg and Linke [45] describe the process as more of a ‘negotiation’ or ‘consensus-seeking effort’ [45], with usually one or two people deciding and others supporting it [48]. In contradiction, Akwataghibe et al. [53] found it as a fairly open process where members were selected based on merit and respect at a local meeting [53]., however, they don’t take into account how such attributes are prescribed in the first place in a patriarchal society where older men by default are considered to be most respected figures.

Some positives were observed in Anderson et al. [72] study in Nepal enabled women’s leadership to promote positive WASH behaviours, with the support from local development organizations, other community leaders, and families to get accepted, especially by other men who were abusive and disrespectful initially [72]. However, none of the men ever faced such emotional challenges or had to seek companionship support to deliver their tasks. It was also unsurprising to see women more commonly in unpaid positions than men.

Involvement of women in committees evidently varied across locations and committee roles and responsibilities were often on the gender lines.

3.1.4 Myth 1.3: Quota system automatically ensures acceptance and support for women in water committees.

Basically, in most instances, even if committee members or the wider community expressed support for women’s participation and leadership, it frequently reflected social expectations rather than any active efforts to foster women’s involvement in water committees.

The duality between intent and reality was evident. During FGDs with 210 committee members across 27 committees in Kenya, Hannah et al. [76] found that women’s contributions were valued for their ability to resolve issues, have a ‘cooling effect’ in helping bring group consensus, work well with other members and officials, and have a better understanding of water issues. In individual interviews with 105 of them, about 80% respondents seemed content with women’s contributions to the committee. The remaining 20% seemed discontent as women were inactive or weren’t doing enough, and a few were simply discontent with the current quota and wanted even more women on the committees [76]. However, survey results with the same members revealed a leadership gap with women less frequently reporting to have led meetings or addressed complaints raised by fellow members. Not only was there a statistically significant difference between women’s and men’s self-reported frequency of participation in committee activities, women were also less willing to lead meetings [76].

In a study in Bolivia, over 99% of respondents said women had an equal chance of serving on the committee. Still, women were stymied in their ability to participate due to pressure from their personal lives [47]. In a study in Nepal though, men from the study not only decided who would attend water committee meetings in their household but often attended themselves [82]. In a study in Tanzania, the study found that it was generally considered unacceptable for women to speak in public and the wider community too did not participate much in water management [50].

In a study in Uganda, women’s participation in activities seemed to increase their social awareness, willingness to contribute, and were twice more likely to be aware of local water user rules than men [51]. There was a positive recognition of the role of women as crucial during construction and collective action towards its maintenance. But, when it came to community contribution, in-kind was mostly preferred, and unsurprisingly again, women seemed to contribute the most through cleaning [86]. Naiga et al. [51] survey results found that male community members were less likely to trust committees with women, while female members showed higher trust and were more willing to contribute when women were included [51]. However, qualitative results couldn’t explain the gender bias with both men and women sharing similar sentiments of trusting women because they have stronger feelings of shame, do not drink or smoke, and value water more than men [51].

Another aspect of women’s empowerment projects was emphasizing sole decision-making, which was critiqued by Leder [48], arguing that in many local contexts, women seek support and acceptance from husbands and in-laws rather than make independent choices. Support from families was seen as essential in Ghana, Bolivia, and Nepal if women were to participate [47,48,75]. A pattern of feminisation of roles is observed. Nevertheless, women seemed to face additional issues even to contribute to the feminised roles.

3.1.5 What are the constraints to women’s participation in committees?

We observed that women’s participation in water committees was constrained by a combination of cultural norms, patriarchal attitudes, household-gendered responsibilities, economic limitations, and structural barriers. Limiting factors such as location-specific patriarchal socio-cultural norms, lack of confidence, discriminatory perceptions of women’s capacities, and significant household workloads and time constraints were recurring challenges. For example, while gender was not a significant predictor of participation frequency in committee activities in one study [76], another found that it was indeed the unequal gender power dynamics that limited women’s autonomy in resolving WASH issues, despite their understanding and knowledge of it [70].

Structural challenges like poor monitoring and enforcement of gender policies, lack of education and training, lack of experienced trainers, delayed payments, irregular meeting schedules, and a lack of response to demands made, dictated their ability to engage. In addition, women’s participation depended on their confidence, ability to negotiate, social and household position, land ownership, kinship ties and other social relations, age, marital status, children’s age, and support from family, the lack of which further hindered meaningful participation. Important here to note is that sometimes women simply did not want to participate either. Abu et al. [60] found the barriers to participation in WASH decision-making were not only interlinked but reinforced each other.

Socio-cultural norms and patriarchal attitudes persistently limited women’s roles, where local norms influenced committee roles which reinforced gender stereotypes and restricted their participation and contribution [48,50,51,53,60,69,76,82]. Attitudes prescribed to women varied, sometimes discouraging them further. While some women were labelled ‘impossible’ or ‘macho’ [51], elsewhere, families were stigmatised for having ‘bad and ‘noisy’ women [50]. Variations in social standing also shaped responses, where one woman was nicknamed ‘brave and fearless’ for speaking up at community meetings, another who was a board member got excluded from meetings for doing the same [75] which reveals power issues within committee members.

Age and marital status were specific criteria applicable only to women, and varied depending on the village [50]. Married women or older widows were preferred over single ones with their rationale based on permanent residence in the village, spouse interference, and bias against younger women [50].

Women struggled to assert their decision-making roles to avoid interpersonal strife within their families and communities [47,82], their opinions and roles were of secondary importance [76], made men less likely to trust a committee with women on it [51], and elsewhere, both men and women generally thought that women must prioritize their household tasks and then participate in activities to earn money [55]. Leder et al. (2017) show that the relationship between water and women’s empowerment is highly location and household-specific and complex [48]. Women’s agency depended on family support and household composition while their gender relations dictated if they could participate. They had to seek permission and arrange for others to do their gender-ascribed household chores in their absence.

A pattern of women withdrawing from committees was observed because of husband’s objections who cited religious dictum of what was acceptable. Just as women taking positions can inspire other women, similarly women withdrawing too can discourage other women from accepting such public leadership positions [50]. Women’s social position as well as their household position mattered as women couldn’t speak up in the presence of older men from the family [75,82]. Similarly, women’s age, their children’s age, and their social relations too played a role in whether they could participate [48].

Household workloads and time constraints left little time for committee work with women balancing multiple domestic and agricultural responsibilities [47,50,75,76,82]. Interestingly, some men engaged in domestic tasks to support women’s engagement in community activities [75]. Economic limitations too, where women’s inability to meet monthly financial contributions for participation in self-help groups or their disbelief in money-saving restricted their involvement [47]. Women refrained from attending gatherings where decisions were made because they didn’t have the financial independence to make any commitments [60]. Shyness and lack of confidence further constrained their willingness to participate [47,51,75,76]. Lack of education/ capacity further limited women from participating [50,51,60,76]. Finally, some women simply didn’t want to serve on the committee [76].

Even when women were selected for financial roles, their involvement was limited in one Ghanaian case, although communities preferred women as treasurers, only two of five actually handled money, while others merely accompanied male counterparts. In another village, a woman assumed oversight of the committee when it was reduced to two members and not only collected fees but also kept the bank book and hand pump locked [69].Structural issues such as lack of response to demands made by the community, lack of experienced trainers, delayed payments, and irregular meeting schedules, impeded women’s effective engagement [80]. Irregular schedules, untimely information and disappointment in water project were some other barriers [50]. Women had no support for their opinions [76], and sometimes, without any action on their suggestions [75]. Poor monitoring and enforcement of gender policies was also a hindrance. Women’s limited control over land limited their participation in committees or any water-related decisions with land being a crucial in-kind contribution towards water infrastructure [51].

women’s participation in committees must be understood within the sociocultural context in which the committees exist and function. As Cairns et al. [47] summarize that ensuring attention to full gendered relationships is paramount and not just the rote inclusion of women [47]. Participation is not a silver bullet for women’s empowerment in rural areas and rather its effect depends on context and type of participation [83]. Women don’t always act in other women’s interests when they occupy positions of power and neither can it be assumed that the participation of a few will lead to better outcomes for other [50].

Overall, the context-specific and intersectional nature of women’s participation in rural governance, revealed significant variation across districts, shaped by economic disparities, public good endowment, and ethnic tensions, reflecting complex socio-political settings. Civic participation, particularly through religious and charity activities, emerged as a vital mechanism for fostering participation in some places, improving governance and raising awareness. However, these activities’ effectiveness depended on concurrent societal progress, including gender equality and women’s emancipation. In areas with severe gender inequality, civic participation alone was insufficient to shift perceptions or empower women meaningfully, pointing to the need for locally tailored interventions [83].

3.1.6 What happens when these challenges are not sufficiently addressed?

We found that when challenges to women’s participation were not adequately addressed, interventions often led to unintended or negative outcomes or reinforced stereotypes. Efforts to include women without accounting for local contexts, power dynamics, and structural barriers frequently resulted in tokenistic and coerced participation or ineffective outcomes. This once again highlights the critical importance of understanding intersectional identities, addressing systemic inequalities, and ensuring that initiatives are genuinely empowering rather than merely symbolic.

Gender mainstreaming without accounting for gender power relations inadvertently drove negative outcomes for women in a local watershed committee [47]. Instead of creating spaces where women could meaningfully engage and represent themselves, they were often coerced into attending meetings mandatorily without considering their migrational work arrangements and inability to make monthly monetary contributions. The NGOs became fluent in ‘gender talk’ enforcing women’s participation but were unable to describe why and ended up governing women rather than empowering them [47]. While the projects were meant to counterbalance the entrenched gendered roles through women’s participation, without addressing the local cultural biases, they made it even more burdensome [47].

Even when women were on committees, they waited for men to arrange for pump repairs while they and their children reverted to fetching water from long distances [69]. Instead, providing pump technician training had far better impacts. However, intriguingly, the reason for training women primarily was because the previously trained men migrated away from their locations along with the provided tools, and history suggested that women were less likely to migrate away [69].

An RCT study looking at using the existing all-women groups to train women on Health, Nutrition, and WASH topics to increase better health outcomes for them had interesting observations [80]. At the end of the year, while there was some positive impact on household water storage and treatment, the study did not find the expected impact on the health outcomes, also strikingly only 11% of the treatment group ever heard of the project. A similar intervention elsewhere however had different results where women caregivers strengthened their social capital and received knowledge on WASH behaviours through cluster meetings and household visits [77].

In a few instances, participation worsened community standing for female treasurers due to money conflicts [45], where women despite serving the role for decades often doing additional chairperson tasks such as leading meetings, eventually resigned due to accusations. Although respected in the village, a local village member reflects ‘you cannot work with money when you are hungry yourself’ indicating how rumours stem from just being in a certain social position [45]. Women engaged in public spaces were often met with unfair criticism and humiliating stereotypical assumptions such as accusations of extramarital affairs [50].

Despite an increased number of women in water committees in a few places, there have been contradictory effects on water supply improvement for some users as it reinforced existing inter and intra-village inequalities [42]. Old committees collapsed and new ones were formed, while it remains unclear if previous challenges for collapse were adequately addressed [79].

Another emerging issue of enforced women’s inclusion on committees is increasing the workload of members already active in the community. Over 94% women and 83% men were also part of groups other than the water committee in a study [76]. Such significant multiple responsibilities raise questions about the effectiveness of their contribution as well as their unpaid labour.

Concerns around community-based and committee-based collective action are aptly summarized by Archambault and Ehrhardt [91]. They identify ‘committeefication’ as a process in which committees have become central to development interventions [91]. While highlighting the potential of the function of committees, they bring attention to the danger they present in weakening existing forms of local collective action ‘in the guise of democracy and deliberation’ [91].

A lot of these findings are not new and have been highlighted decades before the SDG era itself, for instance, as noted in Cleaver’s [92] seminal ‘Paradoxes of Participation’. However, despite such evolved feminist research and advocacy, WASH research and interventions continue to be highly technocratic even when it comes to implementing gender-responsive or transformative processes. It doesn’t seem that SDG implementation has learned from evidence and continues to promote stereotypical narratives.

3.2.1 Myth 2.1: Improvements in water supply reduces women’s distress.

Although not explicitly framed as psychosocial violence, six studies reported psychological distress linked to water insecurity [32,43,46,57,60,65]. Houweling [43] draws attention to women’s emotional burden when faced with terrible choices between fulfilling roles as wives or mothers, leading to anxiety, shame, and guilt. They advocate for moving away from externally imposed frameworks and instead adopting locally rooted ones that incorporate emotions, values, and household relationships to better capture water’s gendered impact, beyond conventional rhetoric [43]. We further ask, who would these measures be for? Are they to meet reporting requirements of donors or to help rural communities reflect and work on the complex gender-power relations?

Predictably, a study found that living in a water insecurity hotspot significantly increased depressive symptoms among women but not men [57]. However, what was more striking was the evidence challenging the assumption that water supply improvements automatically reduce women’s distress. Stevenson et al. [46] examined community water supply improvements in Ethiopia and found that while household water insecurity declined, there was no direct impact on women’s psychological distress. Another study in Ethiopia too found no difference between men and women in emotional responses to water insecurity, despite formative research showing highly gender-differentiated water-labour [103]. Instead, improved harvests emerged as the strongest predictor of women’s reduced distress [46], which makes more sense as part of a holistic view of livelihoods. This emphasizes the need to move beyond narrow water-focused narratives and consider the entire local context.

3.3.1 Myth 3.1: Time savings used for economic activities.

Empirical research suggests that while piped water access reduces time spent on water collection, the assumption that the time saved automatically leads to economic empowerment is overly optimistic. Winter et al.’s [32] study in Zambia showed a 70% reduction in time spent collecting water (fetching time decreased from 13 to 2 mins.), with saved time primarily reallocated to household chores (52%), followed by gardening (39%) and roadside vending (35%), where women could select multiple options. The preference for time reallocation highlights the precedence that domestic responsibilities continue to hold in women’s lives. The economic gains too were uneven between women, favoring wealthier households with resources for larger gardens [32]. However, their conceptual model warrants scrutiny as it rests on a series of optimistic and linear assumptions that don’t account for power dynamics and contextual constraints. It begins by presuming that improved access will enable households to use more water and spend less time collecting it [32]. These time and water inputs are then assumed to support productive activities such as farming, which are then expected to increase income and savings [32]. This, in turn, is projected to enhance the quantity, diversity, nutritional value, and reliability of food access, with further suggestions that these improvements may positively influence child development [32]. In particular, the model suggests the intervention as a ‘magic bullet’ for development, that, the benefit from a reduced time burden, enables them to reallocate time to income-generating work, education, caregiving, and leisure [32]. While the above study showed that more households preferred reallocating time to chores, Bisung and Elliott’s [56] study in Kenya showed a contrast with more households (43%) using the saved time (avg. 50 mins) for income-generating activities than chores (29%) or leisure (28%). It was interesting to note that although households with piped water access generally saved more time than households without, the difference in the amount of time savings between households with piped water outside the home (4.17 mins per trip) vs. inside (4.28 mins per trip) was not substantial.

Another interesting study was by Magbonde et al [85], which used a panel dataset to look at the difference in economic impacts between public and community-led piped water supply projects and found that households with either piped water access, on average were found to have higher total and food expenditure per capita. However, while employment was greater in households with public piped water supply, households receiving community-led supply saw no employment difference. Particularly, they find that improved water services has an even higher impact when complemented with other infrastructure interventions such as roads [85]. A recent multi-country analysis (Ethiopia, Malawi, Uganda, Kenya) by Ogutu et al. (2025) showed that while household piped water supply reduced women’s collection time, the spill-over benefits for income were uneven and highly context-specific [105]. The proportion of women engaged in income-generating activities varied widely across countries, from 61% in Zimbabwe to only 35% in Kenya, even when water interventions were present, revealing that women’s ability to use time saved from improved water access for economic activities was shaped by local social, environmental, and economic factors [105]. While some settings with improved access enabled agricultural production or home-based enterprises, others had barriers such as high water prices, seasonal scarcity, or unpaid water governance duties that constrained gains [105].

Multiple structural barriers limit the extent to which women can convert time savings from improved water access into meaningful empowerment. One key issue is land ownership: women often lack direct control over land, and joint ownership does not guarantee equal decision-making power [10]. Even when women farm, they may do so on their husband’s land under his directive [97].

Intra-household dynamics also shape how time savings are used. Women’s labor is frequently directed by male family members, who maintain control over income and resources [97], a sentiment echoed by women and men alike elsewhere [55]. Previously held strong objections against women venturing out to generate income were overcome for many reasons such as NGOs sensitization, eventual financial contribution by women to household maintenance, economic hardships and higher cost of living demanding multiple incomes [55]. This may have expanded women’s participation in the public sphere, but not necessarily their autonomy. In some cases, men had to accept their wives help in farming as labour costs increased, enabling women’s access to the so-called public space [55].

Ivens [97] notes that a deeper look into women’s and men’s roles and time use provides an indication of women’s limited negotiation power in the HH, which influences what is done with the time saved. Hence, it cannot be assumed that increased water access reduces women’s workload or strengthens their empowerment. Moreover, exact figures on time use vary widely between and within regions, per person, over time with considerable seasonal variations, once again cautioning against the nature of claims that homogenizes women’s experiences [97].

Another major issue is wage inequality, with women often paid less than men for the same work [55]. Even when improved water access enabled women to do small-scale commercial horticulture, these gains did not lead to any transformation in status for women, especially for young daughters-in-law, who rarely saw improvements in bargaining power [48].

Without being financially independent, women’s contribution to specific types of WaSH infrastructure that meets their needs continues to be limited [60]. But, social expectations and cultural norms have an influence women’s motivations. Indarti et al. [61] examine the complexity by sharing the motivations behind economic engagement. While some women had to support families in the event of their unmarried status or a spouse’s death or disability, others lacked interest due to conflicting social expectations, lack of support from family, community, or religious norms [61].

Echoing critiques of the 1980s ‘smart economics’ model, scholars like Chant and Sweetman [106] argue that women were often expected to fill service provision gaps left by state withdrawal during failed economic restructuring, reinforcing rather than reducing gendered burdens, with women now responsible for both health and other services while struggling under circumstances of rising male un- and under-employment.

3.3.2 Smart economics vs feminist economics.

This distinction matters because it reflects two fundamentally different approaches to women’s economic empowerment. While smart economics rationalizes investing in women, leveraging its gains for effective development goals, and using ‘women and girls to fix the world’ [106], feminist economics recognizes that ‘gender is relational and gender relations are power relations’ [47], taking into account men’s roles and whether women’s right, choices, and aspirations are represented [106].

Waring [107] made a scathing observation, decades ago, which seems relevant even today. She cautioned that the standards of national economic accounting were a scheme to ‘keep women in their place’ by conveniently not recognizing the economic value of household (non-market) labour, women’s volunteer services, their investment in caregiving, and reproduction activities [107]. These pointers continue to be ignored as we see organizations like World Bank tout about dismal female labour force participation rate [108], and promote smart economics because ‘it enhances productivity and improves other development outcomes, including prospects for the next generation and social betterment’ [109].

The ‘smart economics’ approach assumes that infrastructure improvements like piped water will free up women’s time for income-generating activities, enhancing both household welfare and economic growth [47]. In Lesotho, however, Cairns et al. [47] found that despite relief from water collection burdens, few women showed interest in initiating businesses or gardening cooperatives. Constraints included unequal access to resources, class divisions, varying social positions, and husbands returning from migrant work reclaiming agricultural work [47]. Moreover, women often avoided income opportunities to preserve interpersonal relationships at the risk of appearing well-off than others, reflecting how entrenched gender norms shape economic behaviour [47]. Hillesland & Doss (2024) additionally note that decisions about how time and water are allocated are mediated by intrahousehold bargaining power, property rights, and social norms, emphasising why assumptions of automatic economic empowerment from water access are overly simplistic [110].

In contrast, a feminist economics lens challenges the misplaced focus of women’s economic empowerment for the interests of development rather than promoting women’s rights for their own sake [106]. It recognizes that gender relations are power relations that informs the nature of women’s relationships with water development projects [47]. It further recognizes unpaid domestic and care labor as critical economic contributions and draws attention to the fallacy of assuming that simple generation of income can empower women. This framework helps unpack the social and economic impact of water work done within and outside the market economy and encourages this understanding in water projects [47].

This is not to say there’s been no success so far. Several previous studies compiled by Houweling [43], demonstrated that when small enterprise training and support are integrated into water projects, women are more likely to enter economic activities using their time saved. However, their study contradicted this dominant development discourse showing that women did not typically take on new roles or initiate income-making activities but rather spent the saved time in existing agricultural, domestic, and social activities [43].

3.3.3 Reframing unpaid work.

Development interventions must recognize the unpaid, undervalued nature of domestic labor as central to a feminist economics framework. However, these calls remain under-addressed. For instance, a popular UK-based charity documented that water fetching meant women were “…less able to work” [111]. While well-intentioned, these seemingly harmless few words continue to invisibilize household work, perpetuating the myth that only paid labor constitutes economic contribution. As scholars note, women’s unpaid domestic work is key to supporting both the paid economy and the household itself [112] and simply expecting women to use improved water access for generating tangible income or take up leadership roles (sometimes, if not mostly, voluntarily) in water governance, without alleviating existing constraints, risks creating additional unpaid burdens [47]. Additionally, extra income could also mean extra physical burden including long walks to markets that are time-consuming, tasks that men in the study area of Nepal deemed degrading for them and refused to do [48].

Overall, the ‘feminization’ of employment and increase in number of women in paid employment has not always translated into improved incomes or exercise of power [113].