Dr. Jamini Sen: A Forgotten Pioneer Woman Doctor and Her Connection to Nepal
Image source, Courtesy of The Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow
At the beginning of the 20th century, medicine was dominated by men and European institutions kept their doors closed to women. During this time, a woman from Bengal in British colonial India broke through this difficult barrier.
In 1912, Jamini Sen was recognized as the first woman fellow of the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow.
This college had been established in 1599 and remained closed to women for a long time.
However, unlike many other pioneers in medicine, her story was largely lost over time.
Image source, Courtesy of The Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow
Over a century later, Sen’s remarkable life — spanning the wards of Nepal’s royal court, examination halls in the UK, and epidemic-stricken cities of colonial India — has been chronicled in a new biography titled Dr. Jamini Sen, written by her granddaughter Deepta Roy Chakraverti. (In North Indian languages, a female doctor is often referred to as ‘Doctorine’.)
This biography draws from Sen’s collected letters, daily diaries, and journals, including articles from the journal Mahila Parishad and a piece written by her sister Kamini. The book restores this sharp-minded and determined woman from pre-independence Bengal to her rightful place in history.
Born in 1871 in Barisal, Bengal, into a progressive family with seven siblings, Sen’s medical journey began far from Europe.
After studying at Bethune College in Kolkata, she completed her medical degree from Calcutta Medical College in 1897, a time when medicine was entirely male-dominated and limited to particular castes.
Image source, Deepta Roy Chakraverti
After graduation, she accepted a job offer in Nepal, marking the beginning of her professional career. There, she served as a private physician to the royal family and as the head of a women’s hospital in Kathmandu.
For nearly a decade, she provided top-level medical care. She earned the trust of King Prithvi Bir Bikram Shah and introduced modern diagnostic methods despite the traditional setting.
Her stay in Nepal was closely tied to death, political change, and instability.
Amid growing unrest and rumors of a coup at the palace, she decided to leave Nepal.
The king had gifted her a gold watch.
Soon after, the king died.
There were suspicions that the king’s death was caused by poisoning.
Nevertheless, her ambition propelled her much further.
Image source, Deepta Roy Chakraverti
In 1911, supported by the Lady Dufferin Fund, she travelled to the UK. She obtained medical licenses in Dublin, studied at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, and passed her fellowship exams in Glasgow.
It was only then that women were allowed to sit for these exams. She became the first female fellow of the college founded in 1599.
However, the achievement was incomplete. College records note that Sen “failed to hold any official office… indicating that female fellows were given fewer rights compared to their male peers.”
The next woman fellow, Margaret Hogg Grant, was admitted 11 years later in 1923.
In 1912, Jamini also went to Berlin, where Europe was advancing in tropical disease research.
The Glasgow Royal College archives quote her as saying, “I have a great responsibility for the sisters of my country.”
Image source, Courtesy of The Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow
After returning to India, she joined the Women’s Medical Service and worked in cities including Agra, Shimla, and Puri.
In Agra, when local movements targeted British doctors, she helped ease tensions. Her presence as a female Indian doctor was significant.
People, especially women, sought and trusted her. Patients affectionately called her “Sariwali Doctorine Sahiba” — the sari-wearing female doctor.
In Shimla and Puri, she worked under crisis and harsh conditions where other doctors hesitated to go.
Many women at the time suffered infections post-childbirth. Sen confronted this issue and significantly improved maternal health, proudly documented in her journals.
She also promoted modernity peacefully through her attire.
Her practical style consisted of a long blouse under a sari, colorful and hospital-appropriate, distinct from traditional Indian women’s attire.
Sen’s personal life faced its own struggles.
In Nepal, she adopted an infant named Bhutui as her ward, with the help of her sister after the child’s mother had died during childbirth. She successfully balanced professional duties and personal responsibilities in a traditionally conservative Bengali society that was intolerant towards women at the time. Later, a serious illness took the life of that child in Kolkata, a profound personal loss for her.
Her biographer preserves several personal items, including a golden watch gifted by the Nepalese king, which she used to pin on her sari, and a Tibetan Tsog bowl awarded to her for her medical services.
Only two blurred black-and-white photographs remain, now archived at the Glasgow college.
Chakraverti’s biography tells the story of a woman shaped by ambition and struggle, a physician who faced caste prejudices in pre-independence India and gender discrimination in Britain while standing firm in her profession.
“Honoring Dr. Jamini Sen,” Chakraverti writes, “means recognizing not just a doctor but a trailblazer whose courage laid the groundwork for generations of women in India, Britain, and beyond.”
Sen passed away in 1932, and for decades her name was lost to history. In 2024, following the posthumous recognition of her historic fellowship, her portrait was unveiled in Glasgow — a symbolic restoration that changed the narrative of history.
Her story reveals that modern medicine is not solely a European or male narrative.
That story is also written by sari-clad women, from royal courts to epidemic centers and exam rooms, where determined Bengali women refused to step back.