A woman getting her oxygen saturation checked at a Smile on Wheels van
The missing half of the equation
When we think of social impact, our minds often jump to women leading change, mothers securing nutrition for their children or girls breaking cycles of poverty through education. Rightly so — women’s empowerment has been at the centre of development agendas for decades.
But lasting social change cannot be achieved without men. Whether as fathers, brothers, community leaders or frontline health workers, men shape family decisions, community norms and resource flows. But their role in caregiving, public health or education is often minimised or absent from programme design.
Smile Foundation’s two decades of grassroots work reveal a pattern: when men are engaged — not as gatekeepers but as partners — families thrive, women flourish and children’s futures brighten.
Why men’s role matters in social impact
Globally, research is clear. Men’s active participation in caregiving and community development benefits everyone.
For women: It reduces the double burden of income generation and caregiving, freeing women to pursue education and work.
For children: Fathers’ engagement improves cognitive development, school performance and emotional resilience.
For men themselves: Involvement in caregiving has been linked to better mental health, stronger family bonds and even healthier lifestyle choices.
And yet, stereotypes persist: men are the “breadwinners,” women are the “caregivers.” Programmes often reinforce these divides. The result is that a large section of potential change-makers remain underutilised.
Breaking the stereotype: Men for social impact
1. In Education: Fathers as Allies
In Smile Foundation’s Mission Education centres, teachers often encounter fathers sceptical about sending their daughters to school. But when engaged through community mobilisation sessions, fathers become some of the strongest advocates for girls’ education.
In Uttar Pradesh, a father who once insisted his daughter would only study till Grade 5 now proudly attends her science exhibitions. This narrative shift — from resistance to advocacy — is a reminder: when fathers believe, girls achieve.
2. In Health: Men as champions of preventive care
Smile Foundation’s Smile on Wheels and E-Arogya Clinics show another dimension: men’s participation in preventive healthcare.
During awareness drives on immunisation or maternal health, it was often men who decided whether a mother would visit a health camp. When fathers understood the benefits, vaccination rates improved. ASHAs and Smile’s health workers learned to engage men directly — through village meetings, evening film screenings or even door-to-door conversations timed when fathers were home.
The results were striking with more antenatal check-ups, fewer dropouts in immunisation and growing acceptance of concepts like nutrition for girls.
3. In Livelihoods: From sole providers to shared planners
Smile’s livelihood and vocational training programmes traditionally targeted women and youth. But a parallel effect emerged: when men saw women contributing to household income, household decision-making became more balanced.
Couple-based livelihood counselling sessions showed that men who planned budgets jointly with their wives also reported higher savings and lower debt. In communities across Assam and Rajasthan, men began to say: “We don’t just earn; we plan together.”
Barriers to men’s participation
Despite the promise, barriers remain — many tied to deep social norms:
Perception of masculinity: Care is still seen as “women’s work.” Men helping with household chores are often mocked.
Breadwinner pressure: In low-income communities, men feel their only valid contribution is income.
Lack of programmes for men: Development programmes often design interventions around women and children, assuming men are secondary.
These realities mean men often feel excluded from or resistant to, social programmes.
What works: Three pathways to engage men for social impact
Drawing from Smile Foundation’s fieldwork — and aligned with global evidence — three approaches stand out.
1. Design with men in mind
Skill-building for caregiving, health awareness or parenting is rarely targeted at men. When Smile piloted father-inclusive sessions in its education centres, men reported higher confidence in supporting their children’s schooling.
Takeaway: Men don’t resist involvement; they resist feeling incompetent. Structured training helps.
2. Reduce the breadwinner–caregiver conflict
Men in low-income households juggle long hours of labour. Smile’s evening or weekend community sessions — from health talks to parent–teacher meetings — increased male participation by 40%.
Takeaway: Programmes that respect men’s economic constraints are far more effective.
3. Build Peer Support and Social Acceptance
Men learn from men. When Smile mobilised male volunteers to champion nutrition drives, their voices carried weight in convincing other fathers. Peer networks also reduced ridicule for “breaking norms.”
Takeaway: Role models and peer validation are crucial in changing norms.
Men as Partners, Not Bystanders
Over time, Smile Foundation’s own messaging has evolved:
Then: Campaigns focused primarily on women and children as beneficiaries.
Now: Men are shown as allies — fathers walking daughters to school, husbands supporting maternal care, youth participating in community health campaigns.
This narrative shift is subtle but powerful. It reframes men not as obstacles, but as co-creators of impact.
From SDGs to local action
Engaging men is not just a local experiment — it aligns with global development priorities:
SDG 3: Good health and well-being, by involving men in preventive healthcare.
SDG 4: Quality education, by ensuring fathers support schooling, especially for girls.
SDG 5: Gender equality, by sharing caregiving roles and reducing violence.
Smile Foundation’s grassroots approach shows how these global frameworks translate into community-level action.
The fun but serious side: Why men benefit too
Let’s not forget — men gain immensely when they engage in social impact. Fathers who help with homework report better bonds with their children. Husbands who attend maternal health sessions with their wives feel more confident and respected. Even young men volunteering in Smile programs say they develop leadership skills that help in jobs.
In short: a more caring man is often a healthier, happier man.
Towards a shared future
If women have been the face of social change, men must now be the backbone. The future of social impact lies not in dividing roles, but in sharing them.
Smile Foundation’s journey proves this: from classrooms to clinics, when men are engaged, the outcomes multiply. Families grow stronger. Children dream bigger. Communities move forward faster.
The next big narrative in development may just be this: social change is not women’s work alone. It is everyone’s responsibility — and men have a central role to play.
Every organisation has a story. But for non-profits, that story is not just about identity — it shapes impact, funding and public trust.
When Smile Foundation was established in 2002, India’s development sector was still framed in a language of charity. Campaigns featured images of malnourished children, appeals to “help the needy” and stories that positioned donors as rescuers.
Two decades later, Smile Foundation’s communication looks dramatically different. Today, the organisation speaks in the language of system strengthening, empowerment and partnerships. Children are framed as learners and future leaders, women as agents of change and frontline workers as pillars of India’s health and education systems.
This evolution in narrative is not cosmetic — it reflects deeper changes in India’s development sector, global priorities like the SDGs and Smile Foundation’s own growth as a professional, impact-driven institution.
The early years: A charity lens
At its inception, Smile Foundation’s work was heartfelt and immediate: enrolling children in schools, organising medical camps in underserved areas and providing relief during natural disasters.
The language of its campaigns reflected that era. Mission Education, Smile’s flagship programme, initially communicated in simple terms: “Help a child go to school.” Visuals showed children holding books or sitting in classrooms, the message being that donors could directly “give” them a future.
Healthcare too was narrated in numbers treated — the success of medical camps was reported by tallying how many patients received consultations or medicines.
This was effective in mobilising early support, but it carried a limitation: it cast communities as recipients of aid rather than participants in change.
The first shift: From pity to participation
By the mid-2000s, Smile Foundation began noticing the gaps in this approach. A child might be enrolled in school, but if her mother fell ill or the family needed her to work, she would drop out. A patient might receive medicine at a camp, but without follow-up care, the illness returned.
Smile realised that sustainable change required participation, not just pity.
The narrative began to shift:
Children were no longer depicted as helpless, but as eager learners with potential.
Mothers appeared not only as caregivers but as advocates for their children’s education.
Donors were framed as partners in progress, not just benefactors.
Case study: Smile Twin e-Learning Programme (STeP)
This vocational training initiative epitomised the narrative change. Instead of charity for unemployed youth, the story became one of opportunity and agency. Communication stressed that training in retail, IT and soft skills could help youth “step” into jobs and independence.
The tone shifted from “help them survive” to “equip them to thrive.”
Education: From sponsorship to systemic change
Smile Foundation’s Mission Education grew into one of India’s largest non-formal education initiatives, reaching thousands of children across urban slums and remote villages.
As the Right to Education Act (2009) reframed schooling as a right, not a privilege, Smile adapted its communication accordingly.
Then: “Sponsor a child’s education.”
Now: “Education is every child’s right — together, we can make it real.”
Case study: Shiksha Na Ruke
During the COVID-19 pandemic, when millions of children were at risk of dropping out, Smile launched Shiksha Na Ruke (Let Education Not Stop).
This campaign captured the essence of Smile’s evolved narrative. It was no longer about children in need but about a systemic crisis in continuity of learning. Smile’s solution — digital classrooms, community learning pods, parental engagement — positioned the organisation as a problem-solver at scale, not just a service provider.
Healthcare: From camps to systems strengthening
Health has been one of the most visible areas of Smile’s narrative change.
In the 2000s, healthcare meant temporary medical camps. Impact was measured by “patients seen” and “medicines distributed.”
With the launch of Smile on Wheels, mobile healthcare vans, the story expanded. Now, Smile spoke of last-mile healthcare access, taking doctors and diagnostics to where none existed.
By the 2020s, Smile’s healthcare narrative had matured into system strengthening:
E-Arogya Clinics integrated technology and medicine vending machines for sustainable delivery.
Campaigns emphasised preventive care, not just treatment.
ASHA workers were highlighted as partners, not just local assistants.
Case Study: Health Cannot Wait (COVID-19 Response)
This campaign reflected Smile’s evolved language. Instead of “we are distributing relief,” the message was: “We are ensuring system readiness and resilience for future crises.”
The focus was on preventive healthcare, capacity building and partnerships with frontline workers — aligning Smile with global public health priorities.
Women’s empowerment: From beneficiaries to leaders
In the early years, women appeared in Smile’s campaigns primarily as mothers — feeding children, attending health check-ups, receiving nutrition kits.
By the late 2010s, Smile’s gender narrative had transformed. Women were now leaders, earners and decision-makers.
Case study: Swabhiman
Initially a programme for reproductive health and nutrition, Swabhiman evolved into a holistic women’s empowerment platform.
Communication began highlighting:
Women leading self-help groups
Adolescent girls completing education
Mothers running small businesses
The storytelling shifted from “help women” to “invest in women.” This aligned Smile with the global development community’s push to frame gender equality as smart economics.
Disaster Response: From relief to resilience
Smile has responded to nearly every major disaster in India over the last two decades — earthquakes, floods, cyclones.
Early years: Stories focused on immediate relief — rations, clothes, medicines.
Later years: The emphasis shifted to resilience and recovery — rebuilding schools, psychosocial support, safe spaces for women and children.
Case study: Kerala floods (2018)
Instead of reporting “tons of food distributed,” Smile’s communication highlighted restoring schools, setting up safe spaces and enabling communities to recover stronger.
This reframing mirrored global frameworks like the Sendai Framework for Disaster Risk Reduction, which stresses long-term resilience over short-term relief.
CSR partnerships: From Donor appeals to co-Investment
The Companies Act, 2013, mandating CSR, forced NGOs to professionalise communication. Corporates wanted ROI, impact metrics and scalable models.
Smile adapted swiftly:
Reports highlighted learning outcomes, nutrition indicators and cost-effectiveness.
Campaigns spoke of “partnerships for nation-building,” not “donations.”
Case Studies:
PepsiCo Nutrition Enhancement Programme: Reached 60,000+ beneficiaries with kitchen gardens, health camps and worker training.
Mars Wrigley & Smile: Improved Anganwadi infrastructure in Maharashtra with solar lighting, toilets and water filters.
Microsoft Digital Classrooms: Framed as pilots for scalable ed-tech models, aligning with CSR interest in innovation.
This pivot ensured Smile remained relevant to CSR boards and corporate philanthropy.
Storytelling platforms: The medium is the message
Smile’s communication has also mirrored broader media shifts:
2000s: Posters, donation appeals, newsletters.
2010s: Short films, donor reports, case study booklets.
2020s: LinkedIn carousels, infographics, blogs with policy-angled storytelling.
Today, Smile speaks to multiple audiences simultaneously:
General public: Through human-centered stories of children and women.
CSR leaders and policymakers: Through data, policy alignment and SDG framing.
Today’s narrative: System strengthening
Three elements define Smile Foundation’s present-day storytelling:
Agency over pity: Communities are portrayed as capable agents of change.
Systems over charity: Focus on continuity in education, healthcare resilience and women’s leadership.
Partnerships over giving: Corporates, governments and individuals are invited to co-create solutions.
The next frontier: Dignity and advocacy
If the early 2000s were about need, and the 2010s about empowerment, the 2020s are about dignity.
The future of Smile’s narrative will likely emphasise:
System strengthening at scale: Training frontline workers, upgrading infrastructure, building resilient institutions.
Intersectionality: Connecting health, education, climate and livelihoods.
Digital storytelling: Data dashboards, interactive case studies, podcasts.
Policy advocacy: Moving beyond service delivery to shaping policy conversations in health, education and gender.
A story still being written
From charity appeals in the early 2000s to system-strengthening partnerships today, Smile Foundation’s narrative evolution mirrors India’s own development journey.
The heart of the story remains the same: a belief that every child, every woman and every frontline worker deserves not just survival but dignity, opportunity and the chance to thrive.
But the telling of that story has matured. It now reflects confidence, scale and a systems approach — positioning Smile Foundation not only as a service provider but as a strategic partner in nation-building.
And perhaps the biggest lesson is this: when narratives evolve, so does impact. A story well told is not just communication. It is transformation.
A curious thing happens when you walk into a rural classroom in India. You’ll see rows of children, bright-eyed, uniformed, ready to learn. The blackboard carries a neat lesson in English or Hindi. But if you flip open a child’s notebook and ask them to read a short sentence — something as simple as “The sun rises in the east” — many cannot. If you ask them to subtract 37 from 52, most will stumble.
This is not because the children are less capable, less ambitious or less curious. It’s because the foundation — the bedrock of learning itself — was never laid properly.
Welcome to the world of FLN: Foundational Literacy and Numeracy.
What FLN really means
Think of FLN as the educational equivalent of learning to walk. Before you run, before you dance, before you climb mountains — you need to take those first steps. Reading simple texts and doing basic arithmetic by the age of 10 is not just a milestone. It’s a life-defining skill. Without it, children fall into what the World Bank and UNICEF call “learning poverty”: the inability to read and understand a basic story by the end of primary school. Globally, 7 in 10 children in low- and middle-income countries face this challenge.
In India, the numbers are starker. According to ASER 2022, only 20.5% of Grade 3 students in rural India could read a Grade 2-level text and just 25.9% could do basic subtraction. Imagine trying to study science, history or even computer coding without this base. It’s like trying to build a skyscraper on sand.
Why should anyone care?
Because FLN is a growth, a health and even a democracy story — all put together.
The economic angle: Countries that improve literacy rates see GDP boosts. Every child who can read and count contributes to a more productive workforce. The World Bank estimates that every dollar invested in early education yields up to $14 in returns.
The social angle: Literate citizens participate more in civic life, understand their rights and engage better in communities.
The personal angle: For a child, being able to read independently sparks confidence and curiosity. That confidence compounds over a lifetime — affecting jobs, health, even how they raise their own children.
FLN, in other words, is not a “nice to have.” It is the difference between a nation of potential and a nation of missed chances.
India’s policy push — and its gaps
The good news: policymakers are aware. The National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 and the NIPUN Bharat Mission set a bold target —universal FLN by 2026-27. But a mission statement doesn’t teach a child to read.
India’s Achilles heel has always been implementation. Classrooms remain overcrowded, teachers undertrained and children first-generation learners without support at home. Add linguistic diversity — over 120 major languages — and the challenge becomes even more complex.
What works: Lessons from the field
Globally, there are bright spots:
Kenya’s Tusome programme deployed structured lesson plans, teacher coaching and continuous assessments. Within two years, students doubled their reading fluency.
Ghana’s Mother Tongue initiative proved that children learn faster when taught first in their home language before transitioning to English.
India has its own promising examples too — Smile Foundation’s Mission Education programme being one. Operating across 2,000 villages in 26 states, it reimagines the classroom by:
Grouping children by skill, not age or grade.
Training teachers in multilingual classrooms and hands-on methods.
Introducing technology like tablets and smart boards to make lessons interactive.
Involving parents so learning doesn’t stop at school gates.
One teacher from rural Odisha shared that when children were grouped by skill instead of grade, “the weakest child no longer felt left behind, and the strongest was no longer bored.” That small shift unlocked confidence for the whole class.
The missing middle: Teachers and parents
Any education reform is only as strong as the people delivering it. In India, teachers often juggle 40-60 students per class, many with varying abilities. Without training in differentiated instruction, they default to “teach to the average” — which means half the class is lost.
Equally, parents — many of whom are illiterate — feel unable to support homework. Yet, evidence shows that when parents read aloud at home, even for 10 minutes, literacy outcomes improve dramatically. Involving parents through workshops and simple activities is a low-cost, high-impact intervention India has underused.
The tech temptation — and its limits for literacy
Post-pandemic, edtech boomed. Tablets, apps and AI tutors promised to close the gap. But the catch is that technology is a tool, not a silver bullet. A tablet in the hands of a disengaged teacher changes little. What works is a blended model — community-based teaching reinforced by tech-enabled personalised learning. Think small-group storytelling circles in the village, backed by apps that track progress.
Why K-3 is where the action is
By Class 3, a child who hasn’t mastered FLN is four times more likely to drop out later. The early years matter because brains are most plastic then — absorbing language and numeracy at lightning speed. Prioritising K-3 means focusing resources where returns are highest. It also means resisting the temptation to overload children with content. A 7-year-old doesn’t need trigonometry — they need fluency in subtraction and the joy of reading.
The Triple Dividend of investing in FLN
Investing in FLN pays off three times over.
Immediate gains: More children can learn effectively in higher grades.
Economic gains: A literate workforce fuels innovation, jobs and GDP.
Social Gains: Educated citizens strengthen democracy and health outcomes.
In fact, studies show early literacy improves public health because people understand prescriptions, nutrition labels and hygiene practices better.
So where do we go from here? India needs a coordinated, multi-pronged strategy:
Empower teachers: Continuous in-service training, peer mentoring and recognition to make teaching aspirational again.
Flexible models: Mix community centres, anganwadis and schools with mobile learning vans for hard-to-reach areas.
Language first: Prioritise mother-tongue instruction in early years before transitioning to English or Hindi.
Family engagement: Structured parent workshops that turn homes into mini-classrooms.
Accountability: Use simple assessments to track progress district by district and feed results back into policy.
This isn’t about reinventing the wheel. The building blocks exist. What’s needed is scale, speed and sustained political will.
Why it matters to you and me
You might be reading this on a smartphone during your commute. You probably don’t think twice about reading an email, scanning a menu or calculating a discount. That invisible skill — literacy — shapes every decision you make. Now imagine living without it.
For millions of Indian children, that’s reality. And unless we act, it will define their future — and India’s.
Don’t get lost
Education reforms often get lost in jargon. But FLN is refreshingly simple. Teach every child to read and count by the age of 10. Do that, and we set them up not just for school, but for life. Fail, and we condemn them to struggle before they’ve even begun.
The stakes are enormous, but so is the opportunity. In a country young, restless and ambitious, there may be no higher national priority than ensuring that every child can master the ABCs of opportunity.
A few months ago, I watched a group of middle-school girls in rural Uttar Pradesh lean over a 3D printer as if it were a magic box. Out came a tiny plastic solar lamp, layer by layer, while they whispered and giggled as though they had just pulled off a science trick that could light up their whole world. In many ways, they had.
That moment captures why I’m obsessed with STEM education. Not because robotics or 3D printers are cool toys (though they are), but because they’re keys — keys to unlocking curiosity, envious careers and lovely confidence in children who may otherwise never imagine themselves as scientists, engineers or creators.
India, like many countries, sits at the cusp of a fascinating experiment — Can technology and STEM learning be democratised so that children in the most underserved schools and communities have the same opportunities as kids in elite institutions? Smile Foundation seems to think so — and they’ve been putting that belief on the road, quite literally.
Why STEM and why now?
STEM — Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics — has become one of those acronyms that makes policymakers nod vigorously. But beneath the jargon is a simple truth: the future is STEM-shaped.
From climate change solutions to healthcare innovations to digital jobs we haven’t yet imagined, the next generation of problem-solvers will need a toolkit rooted in science and technology. The National Education Policy 2020 in India recognised this, pushing for hands-on, inquiry-driven learning. What this means in practice is kids won’t just memorise Newton’s laws but they should build a catapult, measure the angle and argue about whether Newton would’ve liked Angry Birds.
The challenge? Access.
Most rural or low-income schools lack science labs, let alone robotics kits. Teachers are undertrained, under-resourced and often overwhelmed. Girls face cultural barriers and communities may not see immediate “value” in letting children tinker instead of cramming for exams. That’s where initiatives like Smile Foundation’s STEM programmes step in.
The Big Idea: Make STEM impossible to ignore
What I like about Smile’s approach is that it’s not trying to sprinkle STEM on top of existing curricula like confetti. It’s trying to embed curiosity as a way of life.
Here’s how:
STEM labs: Schools get physical spaces where science isn’t theoretical. Think robotics kits, DIY science projects, even IoT workshops. Smile rolled out labs with consumables and reusables, so experiments don’t end after one class.
Teacher training: Because a STEM lab without trained teachers is like a plane without a pilot. Teachers learn not just how to use equipment but how to weave STEM into everyday lessons.
Science & innovation clubs: Students form groups to build models, brainstorm and even enter challenges. It’s like a mini incubator for ideas.
Annual Science Fairs & innovation challenges: Kids get to showcase their projects and nothing builds confidence like explaining your robot to a hall full of parents and peers.
STEM-on-Wheels: My personal favorite. Mobile vans and buses equipped with labs visit underserved schools and communities. Imagine a traveling carnival, but instead of cotton candy, you get coding lessons and microscopes.
What does this look like on the ground?
Smile runs two kinds of delivery models: High Reach (lots of schools, less time with each) and High Impact (fewer schools, deeper engagement). In practical terms:
High Reach: A facilitator might serve 5 schools and 10 communities, reaching 2,000 kids a year, giving each child about 30 hours of STEM engagement.
High Impact: A facilitator might work daily in one school and two communities, reaching 400 children but offering up to 100 hours of STEM work per year.
This dual approach is clever. Some kids get broad exposure; others get deep immersion. Both matter — because you never know whether the spark of curiosity will ignite after 3 experiments or 30.
Special sauce: STEM for girls
Here’s where the story gets even more interesting. Smile runs STEM-Nayika, a programme designed especially for girls. It’s aligned with NEP and structured in three tiers (Ramanujan, Sarabhai, Kalam) to guide girls from curiosity to confident problem-solving.
Girls in India are still less likely to pursue STEM careers due to stereotypes, lack of role models and limited exposure. A programme that gives them labs, clubs, mentors and a safe environment to experiment is quietly revolutionary.
One girl I met at a workshop told me she had always thought “science was for boys.” After building her own solar-powered fan, she smiled (pun intended) and said, “Now I think science is for me.”
Taking STEM on the road
The concept of STEM-on-Wheels deserves its own section because it’s delightfully inventive. A bus, van or even bike can be outfitted with DIY kits, models and digital tools. They roll into schools or communities that may never otherwise see a lab.
This matters because access isn’t just about money — it’s also about geography. In many rural regions, even if a school has a lab, it may be locked up, underutilised or missing basic supplies. Mobile labs make STEM feel like an event. Kids run to them, parents peek in curiously and suddenly the entire community sees science not as abstract but as fun and tangible.
It’s also symbolic. Science is literally arriving at your doorstep.
But does it work?
The numbers are promising. Depending on the model, a single facilitator or vehicle can reach 1500 to 4000 kids a year. Students get between 15 and 100 hours of hands-on STEM exposure annually — a massive leap from zero.
Teachers, too, benefit. By gaining professional development and tools, they’re more likely to integrate STEM into their regular classrooms, creating a multiplier effect beyond Smile’s direct reach.
And then there’s the intangibles:
Kids who once dreaded science start forming science clubs.
Communities that saw education only as exam prep start valuing creativity.
Girls who thought careers in tech were impossible begin to imagine themselves as engineers.
STEM as social equity
It’s worth stepping back to see the bigger picture. In a country as large and diverse as India, education isn’t just about preparing workers. It’s about shaping citizens.
STEM education teaches problem-solving, collaboration and resilience — skills that help not just in jobs but in life. When a child learns to debug a code or fix a circuit, they’re also learning persistence and critical thinking.
And because STEM is inherently about solving problems, embedding it in underserved communities is particularly powerful. Imagine if the next big water filter innovation comes not from a university lab, but from a village girl who grew up tinkering with Smile’s DIY kits.
The fun part: STEM is Play
One thing I’ve noticed at these programmes is how much kids laugh. STEM education done right looks less like a classroom and more like a playground.
Robotics workshops feel like toy-building. Science fairs feel like festivals. Even teacher training sometimes resembles improv sessions, with educators trying out coding games or balancing structures made of straws.
This playfulness is not accidental. It’s central. Children learn best when curiosity feels like joy, not obligation. And in communities where education has historically been framed as rote memorisation, introducing joy into learning may be the most radical innovation of all.
What India can teach the world
Other countries are experimenting with STEM, too, but India’s scale makes its experiments fascinating. Few places attempt to bring hands-on science to millions of children across both rural and urban areas.
In Kenya, mobile science labs are being trialed, but at a fraction of India’s scale.
In the U.S., makerspaces and STEM clubs are common, but often limited to privileged schools.
In China, there’s massive investment in AI and coding education, but less focus on equity across rural areas.
India’s STEM-on-Wheels and STEM-Nayika models are unusual in their attempt to marry innovation with inclusion. This could well become a blueprint for other developing countries.
Of course, challenges remain. Equipment can break. Teachers can burn out. Programmes need sustainable funding. And scaling without losing quality is always tricky.
But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that kids don’t wait for perfect conditions. Hand them a tinkering kit and they’ll build something anyway.
The task for policymakers, NGOs and corporates is to keep fueling this momentum. More partnerships with schools. More investments in STEM labs. More champions for girls. And yes, more buses, vans and bikes carrying science across dusty roads.
The world is full of problems. Climate change, public health, energy, inequality. But the solutions will come from minds that have been trained to ask, “What if?” and “Why not?”
Every time I see a girl in a village hold up a solar lamp she built herself, I think: here’s someone who might grow up to invent the next sustainable energy breakthrough. Or maybe she won’t — maybe she’ll just gain the confidence to negotiate better wages or start her own business. Either way, that’s empowerment.
And that’s why STEM matters. Not just for jobs, not just for exams, but for unlocking potential.
So if you ever see a bus painted with science diagrams rolling through a village, don’t be surprised if it’s carrying more than microscopes and robots. It might be carrying the next generation of problem-solvers — and a brighter future for all of us.
When India’s Prime Minister handed over his social media accounts to five remarkable women achievers – from a chess grandmaster to a farmer-turned-entrepreneur – it was a symbolic celebration of women’s empowerment in the digital ages. Each of these women had harnessed technology for learning, innovation and enterprise, inspiring countless others to imagine new possibilities. But India’s digital revolution has not yet reached the majority of women, especially those in rural and marginalised communities.
According to the latest National Family Health Survey, just over half of urban women have ever used the internet and in rural areas the figure drops to only one in four. This digital divide translates into a gap in education, economic opportunity, healthcare access and voice. Bridging this divide has become essential, and technology – when thoughtfully deployed – is proving to be a powerful equaliser.
Digital inclusion: Bridging gaps in education, work and healthcare
Empowerment begins with access – to information, to services, to opportunity. Today, that access is increasingly digital. Across India and much of the world, mobile phones and the internet have become gateways to learning and livelihood for women who were long constrained by geography, social norms or safety concerns.
In education, a proliferation of government-led digital learning initiatives and private e-learning platforms is bringing knowledge to women and girls who once had to drop out of school or could only dream of a college degree. From mobile apps teaching basic literacy to online coding boot camps, technology is helping women acquire new skills on their own schedule and in their own language.
India’s flagship rural digital literacy program has trained millions of women in basic computer and internet skills, with women accounting for over half of all participants. Partnerships like Google and Tata Trusts’ Internet Saathi initiative alone enabled roughly 30 million rural women to get online over the past decade – women who can now access educational content, government services and job information that was once out of reach.
Access to digital tools also opens doors in the workplace and marketplace. Equipped with a smartphone and some training, a woman in a small village can market her handmade products far beyond her local haat, tapping into e-commerce platforms and social media to reach customers across the country. Indeed, e-commerce and social media have created a new class of women entrepreneurs who operate from their homes yet serve buyers nationwide.
Take the example of India’s social-commerce platform Meesho, which has enabled millions of women in small towns and villages to become online resellers and business owners with zero upfront investment. By leveraging WhatsApp or Facebook, these women turned their social circles into customer networks, selling everything from saris to homemade pickles. The result is extra income and a newfound confidence and financial autonomy. In fact, studies have found that women entrepreneurs who embrace digital payments and online sales tend to grow their revenues faster, as digital tools help them bypass traditional barriers like limited mobility and lack of bank access.
Crucially, technology is helping overcome one of the most stubborn hurdles to women’s economic empowerment which is the lack of financial inclusion. In societies where women often lacked independent bank accounts or credit, fintech innovations have become game-changers. Through mobile banking apps and India’s Jan Dhan Yojana – a national financial inclusion drive – tens of millions of women have opened simple no-frills bank accounts for the first time.
As of early 2025, over 30.3 crore (303 million) women held Jan Dhan accounts, making up about 55.7% of all such accounts. These accounts serve as a crucial on-ramp to economic life: they receive wages or government benefits directly, and they give women a safe place to save money, free from familial control or the risk of theft. The rise of instant digital payment systems like UPI (Unified Payments Interface) further empowers women by giving them a convenient, cashless way to transact and build credit histories.
Direct Benefit Transfer (DBT) programmes are depositing funds straight into women’s bank accounts, bypassing middlemen and reducing “leakage” of welfare money – effectively putting financial decision-making power into women’s hands. Each of these steps – digital literacy, e-commerce, fintech, e-governance – forms a piece of a larger puzzle using technology to dismantle the traditional barriers that kept women out of the formal economy.
Healthcare, too, has seen technology emerge as a lifeline for women, especially in remote areas. Telemedicine platforms and health apps are bringing medical advice and counselling to women’s doorsteps, often literally. During the COVID-19 pandemic, for example, India’s nationwide telemedicine service eSanjeevani scaled up dramatically to connect patients in far-flung villages with doctors in cities via video calls. This has particular benefit for women, who may be less able to travel long distances for care due to household responsibilities or cultural constraints. As of 2023, over 10 crore (100 million) telemedicine consultations had been provided through eSanjeevani and more than 57% of its beneficiaries are women. These virtual consultations make it easier for a new mother to get postpartum care advice or for an adolescent girl to confidentially seek information about reproductive health, without the expense and stigma that might otherwise be involved.
Mobile health apps are also addressing women’s needs – from period trackers and pregnancy guidance in local languages to mental health counselling chats and emergency helplines for domestic abuse. In rural Rajasthan, for instance, women who never had a local gynaecologist are now able to consult obstetric specialists via telemedicine and receive timely guidance on nutrition or high-risk pregnancy warnings. Technology is effectively closing the distance between women and healthcare – bridging not just physical gaps but social ones, by making health information private, personalised and accessible on a simple phone screen.
India’s tech-powered journey toward empowerment
No country illustrates the promise – and complexity – of leveraging technology for women’s empowerment quite like India. Over the past decade, India has embarked on an ambitious effort to digitise governance and social services, with the explicit aim of including those historically left at the margins. This push aligns with the national vision of Viksit Bharat@2047 – a roadmap for a developed, inclusive India by the centennial of independence. A cornerstone of this vision is the belief that “Empowered Women, Empowered India” and that empowerment must begin with inclusive access to rights and services.
In practice, this has meant deploying technology in innovative ways to ensure women and children benefit fully from government programmes – no matter how remote their village, how low their income or how limited their mobility. The Ministry of Women and Child Development (MoWCD) has been at the forefront of this digital transformation, integrating real-time data systems, mobile platforms and transparency mechanisms into its schemes.
Consider the challenge of malnutrition and early childhood care, which disproportionately affect rural women and children. For decades, India’s vast network of Anganwadi centers – village nutrition and childcare clinics – struggled with antiquated record-keeping and patchy service delivery. In 2021, MoWCD launched the Saksham Anganwadi and Poshan Tracker initiative, dragging this network into the digital age. Today, over 1.4 million Anganwadi centres are linked via the Poshan Tracker smartphone app, enabling Anganwadi workers to log nutrition data, growth measurements, and attendance in real time. More than 10 crore pregnant women, nursing mothers, young children and adolescent girls are registered on this platform, which allows authorities to monitor nutrition delivery nationwide at a glance. Where once there were ledgers that took months to compile (and often concealed gaps or the bad word, corruption), there are now real-time dashboards and geo-tagged progress reports. Supervisors can pinpoint which village hasn’t received its supply of supplementary food this week or which child is faltering on growth indicators and act immediately. The digital tracking has ushered in precision, efficiency and accountability in nutrition services and this hasn’t gone unnoticed – Poshan Tracker was recognised with the Prime Minister’s Award for Excellence in Public Administration in 2025. Technology even helped plug leakages in these programmes: a new facial recognition feature for attendance and ration pickup ensures that ghost beneficiaries are weeded out and only the rightful women and children receive the nutrition support, eliminating middlemen and fake claims. These measures, while tech-heavy, ultimately serve the larger purpose of every mother and every child getting the nourishment they are entitled to and any lapses can be caught early rather than lost in bureaucracy.
Another leap has come in the form of paperless, direct aid for pregnant and lactating women. The Pradhan Mantri Matru Vandana Yojana (PMMVY) – a maternity benefit scheme – historically faced hurdles like slow payments and complex paperwork. By digitising the entire process, those problems are fading. Today, a woman who conceives her first child can register online or via a mobile app with Aadhaar identification, and receive ₹5,000 directly into her bank account to support her nutrition and medical needs during pregnancy. If she has a second child and it’s a girl, some states provide an additional ₹1,000 as an incentive under the Beti Bachao, Beti Padhao initiative. Over ₹19,000 crore in benefits has already been disbursed to more than 4 crore (40 million) women through PMMVY’s digital platform, with doorstep assistance from Anganwadi and ASHA health workers ensuring even women in remote hamlets can enroll. The scheme’s online grievance redressal portal and live dashboards add further transparency – a beneficiary can track her payment status on her phone and officials can quickly spot delays or issues in any district. The upshot is not only quicker assistance to pregnant women, but also a subtle shift in perceptions with women being seen not as passive recipients of welfare but as rights-bearing citizens who can demand and track their entitlements. This model of Direct Benefit Transfer to women’s accounts bolsters women’s say in household spending (since the money is in their name) and it introduces many unbanked women to the formal financial system for the first time. In fact, the success of DBT in schemes like PMMVY has contributed to India’s broader push for women’s financial inclusion, with the majority of Jan Dhan accounts now belonging to women. It is a powerful feedback loop where technology-enabled welfare gives women financial traction, and which in turn empowers them economically and socially.
Beyond health and welfare, technology is also being wielded to protect women’s rights and safety. One notable innovation is the SHe-Box portal – an online platform that provides a single-window mechanism for women across India to report workplace sexual harassment. Under the law (the Prevention of Sexual Harassment Act, 2013), employers must address such complaints, but many women, especially in informal sectors, struggled to navigate the process. SHe-Box has made it as simple as logging on and filling a form; the complaint is then routed to the appropriate authority, and the progress can be tracked online. By bringing a usually hidden injustice into the digital open, this platform has lowered the barriers to reporting abuse and signalled that harassment will no longer be swept under the rug.
Likewise, the Mission Shakti mobile app and dashboard serve as a digital panic button and resource guide for women in distress. A woman facing violence or trafficking can, with a few taps, connect to the nearest One-Stop Crisis Centre and police assistance, rather than physically visiting multiple offices. Nearly every district in India now has an OSC and by linking them digitally, Mission Shakti ensures women can find help immediately and discreetly. These tech tools not only rescue women from danger but also empower them with knowledge – the app, for instance, provides information on legal rights and helplines, reinforcing that women have avenues for justice.
Children, too, benefit from this tech-led governance model, especially girls and orphans who are among the most vulnerable. Under the Juvenile Justice Act, the government launched CARINGS (Child Adoption Resource Information and Guidance System), an online portal that tracks every step of the adoption process. Prospective parents can register, view available children’s profiles (with privacy safeguards) and be vetted through a transparent digital queue, replacing what used to be a murky, delay-ridden system. The portal has brought new transparency and efficiency to child adoption, reducing waiting times and ensuring that adoptive families and children are better matched.
Similarly, Mission Vatsalya is using tech to oversee child welfare institutions and foster care: a centralised dashboard compiles reports from thousands of Child Care Institutions across states, flagging any incident of abuse or violation of child rights in real time. Authorities can thus respond swiftly – for example, if a shelter home reports an incident, national officials see it immediately and can intervene or allocate resources. By knitting together police, legal services and child protection units via one data system, the government has created an accountability chain that is much harder to break. If one asks what difference all these digital interventions make on the ground – the answer lies in outcomes.
Over the past several years, India’s sex ratio at birth has modestly improved from 918 girls per 1000 boys to about 930 per 1000, indicating progress in curbing sex-selective practices and valuing daughters. Maternal mortality has fallen significantly to 97 per 100,000 births, from 130 per 100,000 six years ago. While many factors contribute to these trends (like better health facilities and awareness), officials credit the last-mile targeting and monitoring made possible by technology for accelerating the gains.
At the very least, digitisation has squeezed out some inefficiency and inequality in service delivery, meaning more pregnant women get timely care and more girls survive and thrive. It has also built greater public trust in welfare schemes – when people can see their entitlements credited to their bank or issues resolved on a portal, faith in the system strengthens.
How technology catalyses women’s leadership
One of the most transformative – if less tangible – impacts of technology on women’s empowerment is how it amplifies women’s voices and leadership. Traditional hierarchies often limited who could be a leader: one had to be physically present in meetings, have advanced education or be part of old boys’ networks. Digital platforms are blowing up many of those barriers. Through online education and mentoring networks, women are gaining leadership skills on their own terms. A young woman in a small town can enroll in a virtual leadership workshop or connect with a mentor on LinkedIn, without needing the “right” social connections.
Virtual collaboration tools and remote work, now widely accepted, also enable more women – especially those balancing childcare or eldercare – to take on decision-making roles without being confined to an office from 9 to 5. This flexibility is chipping away at the age-old bias that equated leadership with constant physical availability. Indeed, during the pandemic, many workplaces discovered that productivity and teamwork could survive online; as a result, more women (and men) are advocating to keep these flexible arrangements. For women, this means careers don’t have to pause due to marriage or motherhood – they can continue to lead projects, startups or community initiatives from wherever they are.
Technology has also provided women leaders with new platforms to be heard and taken seriously. In the past, getting a seat at the table – whether in politics, business or academia – was a formidable challenge for women, and even when present, their ideas were often overlooked. Now, consider how social media, blogs and webinars allow women to publish their expertise and build their reputations in a visible way.
Female scientists, entrepreneurs, artists or policy experts can bypass traditional gatekeepers by directly reaching audiences online. A female agronomist in a rural area can start a YouTube channel advising on farming techniques and gain thousands of followers, establishing herself as an authority without needing a male intermediary. Similarly, women in governance can leverage data and transparency tools to strengthen their leadership. In India, many local councils now have women as elected members (thanks to reservations) and some are using apps to track village budgets or WhatsApp groups to coordinate initiatives. These digital tools help them make decisions based on real data and mobilise constituents quickly, thereby enhancing their effectiveness and credibility.
Moreover, the very existence of digital records and analytics in workplaces and government tends to reduce biases – performance can be measured in concrete outcomes (sales figures, response times, etc.) rather than subjective impressions. This shift benefits women, who have historically been judged by stereotypes more than results. In a tech-driven environment, if a woman-led team delivers, the numbers speak louder than any prejudice.
Of course, none of this means the playing field is suddenly even. Online spaces come with their own challenges – harassment and trolling of outspoken women, the need for digital skills that not all have and the risk of new forms of exclusion (like algorithmic bias). But even here, technology is providing counterweights. Women-centric online communities and safety apps are emerging to support those who face abuse or discrimination.
For instance, encrypted reporting apps allow women in an organisation to collectively flag a harasser, making it harder for incidents to be silenced. Campaigns for digital citizenship education are teaching young girls how to navigate the internet safely and assertively. All these efforts contribute to an environment where more women dare to step into leadership roles, knowing they have tools and allies at their disposal.
Empowering through collaborative action
The digital gender gap is a work in progress and the reality remains that a large number of women are still offline or only minimally connected. This is where collaboration between government, private sector and civil society becomes crucial. As an example, consider the role of NGOs like Smile Foundation, which works across India to bring technology and training to those at the last mile. In partnership with government bodies and corporates, Smile Foundation extends the reach of digital empowerment into some of the country’s most underserved regions. A key focus area has been integrating technology into STEM education (Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics) for girls and young women, to sow the seeds of future empowerment. Through its STEM for Education initiatives, Smile Foundation has introduced thousands of students from low-income communities to the marvels of robotics, coding and even aerospace modelling – fields they barely knew existed.
In one year-long collaboration with IIT Bombay, over 1,000 students from under-resourced schools were mentored in hands-on projects like 3D printing, building hovercrafts, solar lamp making and basic robotics. Many of these students were girls who, for the first time, got to tinker in a state-of-the-art lab and see themselves as potential engineers or scientists. Not only do these girls learnt technical skills, they also gained the confidence to pursue higher education and careers in STEM, traditionally male-dominated arenas.
By embedding technology in education, NGOs like Smile are preparing the next generation of women to be creators of technology, not just users. We provide teacher training, digital learning modules in local languages and even basic infrastructure like tablets or projectors in rural classrooms. The approach is holistic combining curriculum with curiosity. As one Smile Foundation programme manager put it, exposure leads to aspiration: a girl who has built a simple circuit in 8th grade is far more likely to envision herself as an electrical engineer a few years later.
Importantly, these community-level interventions complement larger government schemes. While the government builds digital highways and platforms, it often takes local trust and tailored training to actually get women to walk those highways. Public-private partnerships and CSR-funded programmes have stepped in to do just that. We organise digital literacy camps for women, set up computer centres in villages or provide micro-loans for women to buy smartphones.
By one estimate, nearly 20 million of the people made digitally literate under the Pradhan Mantri Digital Saksharta Abhiyan were women – over half of all trainees. This was possible because implementation partners went door-to-door to convince families to let their daughters learn computers and because classes were held at times that women could attend.
Likewise, numerous success stories underscore how a nudge from an NGO or a company can turn technology into empowerment. In one Haryana village, a group of women trained by UNDP listed their homemade bangles on Facebook Marketplace, boosting their festive-season earnings by 60%. In Maharashtra, an Internet Saathi trainee went on to launch her own honey business online and now mentors other village women in digital entrepreneurship. These examples show that when women gain digital skills and support, they don’t just improve their own lives but also become catalysts for broader community change, hiring other women, sharing knowledge and breaking stereotypes one by one.
Technology is not a panacea or a standalone solution but an enabler that can accelerate every other aspect of women’s empowerment. The task now is to ensure that digital inclusion efforts leave no woman behind. This means addressing affordability (so that devices and data plans are within reach for poor women), promoting digital literacy in vernacular languages and ensuring online spaces are safe from abuse and misinformation that disproportionately target women. It also means designing technology with women’s needs in mind: for example, fintech products tailored for women with irregular incomes or e-learning content that accounts for women’s dual burdens of work and home. The Indian government’s ongoing programs, from Digital India to Mission Shakti, signal a commitment to this inclusive approach, but they will need continuous feedback and course correction. For instance, if a dashboard shows fewer women using a portal in one region, officials and activists should investigate whether cultural factors are at play and address them through awareness campaigns.
In conclusion, leveraging technology for women’s empowerment is about rewriting social scripts. It’s about a woman in a remote village who can now assert her rights because she knows the government scheme and can apply online; a young graduate who can work for a multinational company from her hometown; a mother who gains respect in her family because money is coming into her bank account; a girl who decides to become a scientist because she fell in love with coding at a workshop. Each of these stories, multiplied millions of times, adds up to a society transformed. India’s journey shows both the immense potential of technology and the importance of thoughtful implementation.
Digital tools have enabled timely interventions in nutrition, education, health and justice, ensuring that development benefits are no longer confined to the privileged urban elite. They have embedded transparency and accountability into public service delivery, making the state more responsive to every woman at the last mile. And perhaps most importantly, they have given women a newfound voice – whether through data, through entrepreneurship or through online networks of solidarity.
For India’s women, once isolated by distances both physical and societal, that bridge is proving to be nothing short of transformational. The task now is to strengthen it, widen it, and ensure that every woman, from the cities to the deepest villages can stride across to claim her rightful future.
Is there an ongoing gender equality fight for entrepreneurship?
When the Prime Minister entrusted his social media platform to remarkable women achievers Vaishali Rameshbabu (chess grandmaster), Elina Mishra (nuclear scientist) Shilpi Soni (space scientist), Anita Devi (farmer-entrepreneur) and Ajaita Shah (CEO of Frontier Markets), it was a celebration of women empowerment in its truest sense. Each of these women, through dedicated training and skill development, harnessed the potential of digital tools for learning, innovation and market access—transforming personal expertise into national impact, and inspiring countless others to reimagine what is possible.
But these stories, as powerful as they are, risk masking a harder truth. India’s digital revolution has not yet reached most women. The National Family Health Survey reveals that just over half of urban women use the internet (51.8% of urban women to be precise), and in rural areas the figure drops to one in four.
For women in rural areas, this gap translates into slower economic advancement, as limited access to digital tools shut them out of markets, innovations and opportunities that could drive both individual mobility and collective growth.
Women empowerment rests on economic stability
Anchored in the promise of the Sustainable Development Goals — and reinforced by India’s own CSR mandate — lies a simple truth that women’s empowerment in the 21st century cannot be achieved without digital inclusion. Technology is a gateway to opportunity, dignity and independence. It is the bridge that allows women to shape not only their own futures, but also that of their communities.
Yet India continues to stumble on the most basic step of putting a smartphone in every woman’s hand. In low-income families, device ownership for women remains elusive. In rural areas, affordability, low literacy, restrictive social norms and safety concerns layer barriers upon barriers. The result is stark digital exclusion — and with it, a narrowing of women’s choices.
This exclusion is not abstract and it directly impacts women empowerment, as it limits-
Participation in markets
Access to finance
Engagement in governance processes
It also shows up in entrepreneurship. Women-owned enterprises make up barely one-fifth of India’s registered MSMEs (only 20.5%), according to the Udyam portal. The digital divide compounds this inequity, making it harder for women to scale ideas, connect with customers or tap into supply chains.
If left unaddressed, this gap will calcify. It risks creating two parallel economies — one where men ride the momentum of digital growth, and another where women remain on the margins. Digital empowerment is not an add-on to gender equity — it is its backbone. Without it, India’s growth story will remain half-written.
Government-led digital pathways for women
Over the years, India has taken important steps to bridge the digital divide for women, especially in rural areas. From digital literacy drives and online marketplaces to financial inclusion through mobile-linked bank accounts, these initiatives reflect a growing recognition of technology being not just a tool, but one of the digital pathways to empowerment.
By giving women the skills to navigate digital platforms, access markets and manage their own finances, these efforts open doors to opportunity and independence. But while the framework exists, the real challenge lies in ensuring that every woman can actually benefit from it.
Collective efforts for consolidated solution
While the government may lay the groundwork for women’s empowerment, the story cannot end there. Real change in rural India depends on whether women are given the skills, tools and confidence to use those opportunities. This is where social stakeholders come in.
CSR–NGO partnerships have the power to turn good intentions into lasting impact. By complementing government initiatives with targeted training and digital access, they can help women move from the margins to the marketplace. They can ensure that empowerment is about women building livelihoods that last, communities that thrive and futures they can shape on their own terms.
While the Government of India is spearheading the women empowerment movement creating pathways for rural women to achieve financial independence and stability, the role of social stakeholders remains critical. CSR–NGO partnerships carry an equal responsibility to ensure these initiatives realise their full potential. By complementing governmental efforts with targeted support, they can equip women in rural India with essential skills and digital tools, enabling them to build sustainable livelihoods and stand confidently on their own feet.
Outcome-driven CSR model for women’s empowerment under Schedule VII
India has no shortage of well-intentioned programmes for women. But the question is no longer if we should empower women — it’s how. And increasingly, the answer lies in what happens when corporations and NGOs come together with purpose, not just compliance.
An outcome-driven approach, when aligned with Schedule VII of the Companies Act, can push CSR spending beyond tokenism. It can deliver real, measurable change if partnerships are designed to pool expertise, networks and resources.
Education and skills: The first lever of change
The story of empowerment often begins in the classroom — or these days, on a screen. Investment in vernacular digital and financial literacy, accredited training and mentorship networks arms women with market-ready skills. It also gives them the confidence to step into India’s rapidly shifting economic landscape.
Breaking barriers to equality
CSR funds directed towards safety technologies and leadership pipelines do more than tick boxes on gender equality. They chip away at systemic barriers, creating pathways for women to participate fully in digital, corporate and entrepreneurial ecosystems that have long excluded them.
Building livelihoods, not just incomes
When women in rural India are connected to e-commerce platforms, supported with logistics solutions and integrated into local markets, the result is not just higher earnings. It is the transformation of livelihoods — whole families and communities stand taller when women producers gain access to profitable markets.
Seeding women-led innovation
Perhaps the most exciting frontier is incubation. Co-funded CSR–NGO interventions can back women-led startups in agritech, fintech or edtech — areas that directly touch the challenges rural women face daily. With the right support, these businesses change how communities live, learn and work.
Real faces of empowerment
Yashodha, once a learner herself, now trains rural women in Aari work through Smile Foundation’s programme, blending embroidery, business skills and digital know-how — empowering them to earn, support their families and inspire others toward self-reliance.
Through Smile Foundation’s training, Sowmya turned cotton wick-making into a steady income stream. Learning business planning, cost tracking, navigating digital payment platforms and local market outreach gave her financial stability, family support and the pride of shaping her own economic independence.
Women’s empowerment in action with Swabhiman
In villages where opportunity once felt distant, Smile Foundation’s Swabhiman programme is helping women embrace digital tools — running businesses on smartphones, selling through online marketplaces and taking control of their economic future.
Core Empowerment Pillars:
Entrepreneurship & Skill Development – Tailored training for women from rural and urban low-income areas, enabling them to start, manage and grow small-scale enterprises.
Financial Literacy – Guidance on budgeting, profit calculation, savings and reinvestment, ensuring sustainable business growth.
Market Linkages – Support in connecting with local, regional and digital buyers, expanding customer reach.
Digital Inclusion – Vernacular training in e-commerce onboarding and technology adoption.
With mentorship from industry experts and in-house trainers, participants master business planning, marketing and customer engagement. This knowledge has already led to the creation of 68 women-led businesses and micro-enterprises in FY 24, breaking traditional gender barriers and driving community progress.
For these women, empowerment is the confidence to lead, the resilience to adapt and the ability to inspire the next generation.
Power change, together!
Digital empowerment is the foundation for women’s economic participation in India’s growth story. While government schemes have set the stage, the journey from awareness to adoption demands the collective strength of CSR, NGOs and local communities. By bridging the digital divide, Smile Foundation enables women to scale businesses, lead change and inspire generations.
Every year, millions of Indians pack their bags for foreign universities, hospitals, and laboratories. More than 1.8 million study abroad; hundreds of thousands more settle in richer economies. This global demand flatters India’s education system — but at home, the departures have begun to look like a strategic loss.
In recent years this outflow of brain drain has reached striking levels. Between 2015 and 2022, an estimated 1.3 million Indians emigrated, many of them doctors, engineers, IT professionals and academics. In 2022 alone, a record 225,000 Indians renounced their citizenship, often to acquire passports of countries like the United States, Canada, Australia, and those in Europe.
This exodus reflects both the global demand for Indian talent and persistent gaps in India’s domestic environment. As India aspires to great-power economic status and self-reliance, the question of how to stem talent loss – or even convert it into “brain gain” – has taken on new urgency.
The scale of India’s talent exodus
By sheer numbers, India’s diaspora is the largest in the world – roughly 20 million Indians were living overseas as of 2020. Not all are highly skilled, but a significant share are professionals and students, and this number is climbing fast. In fact, India now accounts for a third of all international students in major destination countries (U.S., UK, Canada, Australia), a huge jump from just 11% a decade ago.
Every year, hundreds of thousands of young Indians enroll in foreign universities – an educational exodus financed by families back home. Indian households spent about $44 billion in 2024 on overseas education for their children, a figure projected to double to $91 billion by 2030. This includes tuition and living expenses and represents a massive outflow of capital. There is also a steady stream of skilled workers moving overseas for jobs. On average around 2.5 million Indians emigrate each year (of all skill levels), a trend that “threatens India’s growth by depleting its skilled human capital,” as one analysis noted.
The profile of this migrant talent pool spans industries. In technology, Indians comprise a sizeable portion of Silicon Valley’s workforce and startup founders. An estimated one-third of engineers in Silicon Valley are of Indian origin, and Indians have founded or led dozens of “unicorn” tech startups globally. In corporate leadership, Indians punch above their weight: over 10% of Fortune 500 CEOs are Indian-born or of Indian origin, running giants like Google, Microsoft and Adobe.
In medicine, India is one of the largest exporters of doctors and nurses; for example, Indian-trained physicians form a significant part of the workforce in the UK, US, Canada and the Gulf. This outward flow underscores India’s strong education in fields like engineering and medicine – but also raises flags about domestic shortages.
In academia and research, Indian scientists often seek opportunities abroad: India was the second-largest source of foreign science and engineering PhD students in the U.S. in the 2000s and 2010s (after China) and Indian students earned about 13% of U.S. doctorates awarded to foreign nationals in 2018. These figures illustrate the scale at which India’s talent is contributing to other economies and institutions.
Why India’s brightest leave
The causes of India’s brain drain are multifaceted, involving both “push” factors at home and “pull” factors from abroad. Surveys and studies consistently point to a mix of economic, professional and quality-of-life motivations driving Indians to migrate. Some of the key reasons include:
Higher salaries and career opportunities: A talented professional in technology or healthcare can earn significantly more in Silicon Valley or London than in India. Many global companies actively recruit in India – for instance, tech giants like Google and Microsoft hire scores of Indian engineers and Western healthcare systems eagerly accept Indian doctors and nurses. The wage differentials are stark; even Indian IT firms have sometimes facilitated “talent export” by sending employees abroad on projects and H-1B visas. Ambitious individuals often feel that top roles, cutting-edge projects or a fast career trajectory are more accessible overseas.
Research and academic infrastructure: For scientists, researchers and academics, the allure of world-class labs, abundant research funding and intellectual freedom in the U.S. or Europe is strong. India’s R&D spending has hovered around a low ~0.7% of GDP, trailing far behind advanced economies that invest 2–3% of GDP in research. This translates to fewer research positions and grants at home. A physics or biotech PhD from IIT might head to the West where universities and companies offer state-of-the-art facilities and support for innovation. The limited availability of postdoctoral and faculty positions in India’s universities and national labs also pushes many freshly minted Indian PhDs to continue their careers abroad.
Quality of life and public services: Many emigrants cite better living standards abroad – everything from reliable infrastructure to cleaner air. Big Indian cities struggle with problems such as pollution, traffic congestion and strained public services. For instance, air quality in Delhi or Mumbai often exceeds safe limits, which is a deterrent for those who can choose a life in cleaner environments. Additionally, concerns about public safety and governance play a role. A study of migrating healthcare professionals noted that personal safety, law and order and environmental conditions are significant in the decision to settle abroad. Countries like Canada and Australia actively market themselves to skilled immigrants with promises of safe cities, efficient public transport and social benefits, making them attractive to Indian families.
Education and skill gaps: Ironically, one driver of student exodus is the limited capacity and competitiveness of India’s own education system. Top Indian institutions (IITs, IIMs, AIIMS, etc.) are world-class but can only admit a tiny fraction of applicants. Many students who don’t secure one of those few spots or who can afford it, opt for universities in the U.S., UK or Australia. Others are drawn by specialised courses or interdisciplinary programmes not widely available in India. In some fields, attending a Western university is seen as a fast-track to international careers. Additionally, the high cost or limited quality of certain programmes at home (for example, expensive private medical colleges) pushes students to seek better value abroad. This educational outbound flow has become a major facet of brain drain, as a large share of those who go abroad for studies choose to start careers and settle there after graduating.
Immigration policies abroad: On the pull side, many developed countries have immigration policies explicitly designed to attract skilled workers. The points-based systems in Canada and Australia, the H-1B work visa in the U.S., and talent visa schemes in European countries all act as magnets for Indian talent. In recent years, Canada has seen tens of thousands of Indian IT professionals and students become permanent residents annually, thanks to its welcoming stance on skilled immigration. These policies, combined with large Indian diaspora communities already established overseas, create a reinforcing cycle inviting more Indians to migrate.
Entrepreneurial ecosystem: For startup founders and entrepreneurs, certain foreign locales offer easier access to venture capital, mentorship and markets. Silicon Valley’s vibrant ecosystem, for example, has drawn numerous Indian entrepreneurs. While India’s own startup scene has grown (Bengaluru and Delhi are now major hubs), some innovators still leave to incorporate their companies in the U.S. or Singapore to tap global investors and infrastructure. Until very recently, regulations in India made doing business comparatively cumbersome, which led some entrepreneurs to move abroad for a more favourable business climate. High-net-worth individuals have also emigrated for reasons like lower tax regimes or more stable regulations elsewhere – between 2014 and 2018, approximately 23,000 Indian millionaires left the country, according to one World Bank report. This “rich-person brain drain” underscores that beyond scientists or engineers, the wealthy and business elite may also seek greener pastures.
It’s evident that brain drain is not simply individual wanderlust, but rooted in structural issues. As one commentary put it, India must address “the urgent need for systemic reforms” so that talented citizens find educational excellence, economic opportunity and an innovative environment at home. Otherwise, the magnetic pull of developed nations will continue to draw India’s best and brightest away.
The cost of talent loss
The impacts of brain drain on India are profound and multi-dimensional. At the most direct level, every skilled worker or scholar who leaves represents a loss of human capital for the Indian economy. The country effectively subsidises the education and training of these individuals only to see another nation reap the benefits of their productivity. A study on the fiscal effects of emigration estimated that India loses the equivalent of about 0.5% of its gross national income each year due to high-skilled workers moving to the U.S., which is roughly 2.5% of India’s total tax revenue.
In concrete terms, this is a loss of tens of billions of dollars in potential annual economic output and taxes. In the critical IT sector alone, India may be forfeiting $15–20 billion annually by way of talent that contributes to foreign firms and economies instead of domestically. One informal estimate even pegged the overall cost of brain drain at $160 billion per year, which interestingly is about double India’s defense budget. While such figures are hard to pin down precisely, they underscore the massive opportunity cost of educated Indians working abroad.
The innovation deficit is another concern. When top scientists, engineers and entrepreneurs leave, the country loses out not only on their current contributions but on the multiplier effect they could have had – the startups they might have founded, the patents they might have filed, the students they might have mentored. Silicon Valley’s gain in Indian talent has at times been India’s loss in technological leadership. For example, many Indian-origin tech leaders in the West could have been driving innovation in India’s own companies or research labs, had the conditions been right.
A brain drain of researchers can weaken local knowledge networks, as innovative ideas and collaborations flow outwards. It is telling that India, despite its large workforce, still underperforms in high-end innovation metrics (such as patents per capita or research publications) relative to its potential – a gap partly attributable to decades of scientific talent migrating.
Certain sectors feel the pinch of talent loss acutely. The healthcare sector is a prime example and case study in brain drain dynamics. India today has roughly one million active doctors for a population of 1.4 billion, well below the recommended ratio. Yet India has trained many more doctors – a large number have moved to countries like the UK, U.S., Canada and Australia which actively recruit medical professionals. This outflow “mitigates the effects of increased domestic healthcare spending” by creating shortages of specialists and experienced clinicians in India.
For instance, Indian hospitals, especially in rural areas, struggle to hire enough doctors even as Indian physicians serve in large numbers abroad. The nursing workforce shows a similar trend: states like Kerala and Punjab have a tradition of nurses emigrating to the Gulf or West, leading to domestic shortfalls. The result is an uneven health system where certain regions in India remain underserved. Brain drain thus can quite literally be measured in human lives when you consider patients who lack adequate doctors or healthcare workers.
Beyond the immediate economic and service delivery impacts, there is also a psychological and social cost. A persistent narrative of talent leaving can create a sense of pessimism or diminished national confidence. It can also reinforce itself: if young people see their role models and peers all planning to go abroad, they too are more likely to aspire to leave. This can erode the ambition to improve one’s own country.
Moreover, high-profile cases of brain drain – like Indian engineers driving Silicon Valley or Indian scientists in NASA – often spark debates within India about the environment that drove them away. As one policy forum noted, issues like high taxation, bureaucracy and inadequate research infrastructure in India have discouraged some expats from returning and deterred would-be innovators at home. The loss of any single individual might not cripple a nation of India’s size, but cumulatively the talent outflow has meant fewer dynamic job creators, thought leaders and experts on the ground in India.
It’s not all a one-way loss, however. There are also countervailing gains and silver linings from having a large global Indian diaspora – something we explore later. For now, it’s clear that the net effect of brain drain is a serious concern. Recognising these costs has galvanised Indian policymakers and institutions to search for solutions to convert “brain drain” into “brain gain.”
Efforts to reverse the trend
Facing the challenge head-on, India in recent years has launched a multi-pronged effort to retain talent and incentivise its return. The government, academic institutions and even private sector have started addressing the root causes that drive people away – from boosting research funding to improving career prospects. Key initiatives and policy measures include:
Investing in research & innovation: A core strategy is to build world-class research infrastructure at home so scientists and engineers don’t feel they must go abroad to do cutting-edge work. The Department of Science & Technology (DST) and other agencies have pumped funds into new labs, centres of excellence and grant programmes. For example, DST’s Fund for Improvement of S&T Infrastructure (FIST) programme provides grants to universities to upgrade laboratories. Likewise, a new National Research Foundation (NRF) was established by an Act in 2023 to steer more strategic research funding into Indian institutions. These efforts aim to address the chronic underfunding of R&D. There’s also greater support for innovation and startups: the Startup India initiative launched in 2016 created a seed fund (₹9.5 billion) and a network of incubators across the country. Today, India boasts the 3rd largest startup ecosystem globally (over 100 unicorn startups), indicating growing opportunities for innovators to thrive without leaving.
Improving compensation and career paths: Recognising that salary differentials drive many away, some Indian sectors have begun offering more competitive packages, especially in tech and academia. Government research institutions introduced schemes like Performance Related Incentive Scheme (PRIS) and flexible promotions to reward productivity. Premier educational institutions (IITs, IISc, AIIMS, etc.) have been granted more autonomy to hire top talent, sometimes at higher pay scales or with modern tenure tracks, to attract global-caliber faculty. There is also discussion of offering tax incentives or easing administrative hurdles for returning professionals, such as fast-tracking visas or providing tax breaks on income for a few years, though concrete policies on this front are still evolving. The private sector, for its part, has seen MNCs establishing R&D centers in India that pay internationally competitive salaries (Google, Microsoft and IBM all have large research labs in India now). If India’s rapid economic growth continues, the gap in salaries and opportunities vis-à-vis the West is expected to narrow, reducing the push factor over time.
Academic and scientific diaspora programmes: India is explicitly trying to convert brain drain into brain circulation by tapping its diaspora for collaboration and short-term return. A notable effort is the Vaishvik Bhartiya Vaigyanik (VAIBHAV) initiative, a programme to connect Indian-origin scientists abroad with domestic researchers and institutions. Through VAIBHAV, webinars and joint projects have been set up in frontier fields, leveraging the expertise of the diaspora without requiring permanent relocation. Another programme, GIAN (Global Initiative of Academic Networks), invites accomplished foreign and diaspora academics to teach in Indian universities for short stints, exposing students to global knowledge. The Visiting Advanced Joint Research (VAJRA) Faculty programme provides grants for overseas scientists (including non-resident Indians) to spend 3–12 months in India collaborating on research. Unlike permanent return schemes, VAJRA’s goal is to harness global expertise on a flexible basis – effectively importing knowledge even if the expert’s primary base remains abroad. Such exchanges help plug some brain drain gaps by ensuring India’s scholars and students can work with the best minds, no matter where they reside.
Reverse brain drain fellowships: To actively lure top Indian talent back home, specialised fellowships have been very important. The Ramanujan Fellowship, for example, is targeted at brilliant Indian scientists and engineers under 40 who are working abroad and wish to return. It offers an attractive research grant and salary top-up for five years for those who come to work at an Indian institution. In the last five years, about 550 researchers have returned to India under the Ramanujan Fellowship scheme alone. Similarly, the DBT Ramalingaswami Re-entry Fellowship (run by the biotechnology department) has brought back over 600 Indian biomedical scientists from overseas since its inception in 2007. These programmes effectively act as a brain gain pipeline, targeting Indians who have gained experience in top labs abroad and giving them resources to set up labs in India. Another scheme, INSPIRE Faculty Fellowship, aims to retain recent PhD holders by providing funding to start their independent research career in India instead of going abroad. By mitigating the financial and professional risks of returning, these fellowships have had some success in reversing the brain drain in academia and R&D.
Education reforms at home: In the long run, improving India’s higher education system is crucial to reducing the need for students to go abroad in the first place. The government’s National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 is a major overhaul aimed at modernising curricula, promoting multidisciplinary learning and expanding capacity at top institutions. Notably, NEP 2020 also proposes allowing top foreign universities to set up campuses in India and forging international collaborations. If implemented, this could give Indian students the option to get a world-class education without leaving the country. The policy also introduced a 5+3+3+4 school structure and more focus on vocational and skill training from a young age. Over time, these reforms seek to produce graduates who are globally competent but also well-integrated into India’s development needs, thus reducing the push factors for emigration. Early signs of progress include a few foreign institutions expressing interest in opening India branches, and some IITs planning overseas campuses which could eventually stem “education drain.”
Streamlining governance and opportunities: A broader aspect of retaining talent is making India an attractive place to live and work by tackling the governance issues that often frustrate professionals. Reforms to simplify bureaucratic processes, reduce red tape and fight corruption are ongoing; India’s ease-of-doing-business ranking has improved markedly over the past decade (though more at the macro level). Efforts to improve urban living conditions – from smart city initiatives to pollution control measures – though slow, are aimed at addressing quality-of-life concerns. Additionally, the government has been engaging with the diaspora through events like the Pravasi Bharatiya Divas (Diaspora Day) and creating channels for them to invest in India’s development projects. The underlying message is that India is “open for return” and values the expertise and capital of its overseas citizens.
It’s worth noting that some officials have downplayed the severity of brain drain, pointing out that India’s large population and talent base continue to produce many skilled workers. A recent parliamentary statement even claimed “no significant brain drain” has been observed that would adversely affect India’s science and tech progress. But this view likely hinges on the expectation that new initiatives will keep more talent at home.
Indeed, if India successfully implements these policies – better research funding, quality education expansion, diaspora collaboration and a friendlier business environment – it can create a virtuous cycle where fewer people feel compelled to leave and some who left choose to return, thus transforming brain drain into brain gain.
Grassroots education and the talent pipeline
Reversing brain drain is not only about enticing top scientists or corporate leaders to stay; it also requires nurturing the next generation of talent from the ground up. Analysts argue that brain drain reflects a systemic failure to fully develop and utilise talent within the country. That failure often begins at the earliest stages of education. Many bright individuals in India never get the opportunity to become high-skilled workers in the first place due to disparities in primary and secondary education, especially in rural and under sourced areas.
Strengthening the grassroots education ecosystem is therefore a key long-term strategy to combat brain drain. The logic is twofold: first, a larger and more equitably educated population means India can afford to lose some talent and still have plenty at home; second, individuals who are deeply rooted in their communities and empowered from a young age may be more inclined to contribute locally rather than seek validation solely abroad.
Community-based initiatives have shown promise in this regard. For example, the Smile Foundation’s Empowering Grassrootsprogramme works with over 500 community-based organisations to improve schooling, nutrition and mentorship for children in rural villages, urban slums and tribal regions. By investing in early education, life skills and local role models, such programmes aim to produce a generation of achievers who have strong ties to their home communities.
The Foundation’s Mission Educationinitiative provides not just academics but also healthcare and nutrition to tens of thousands of children from marginalised backgrounds. The impact of these efforts is seen in improved learning outcomes and higher aspirations among students who otherwise might have been left behind. Crucially, these grassroots programmes also instill a sense of social responsibility and confidence in youth.
A student from a village who succeeds through community-supported schooling may feel a commitment to give back or build something in their hometown, rather than simply join the urban migration rat-race or go abroad. In essence, community schooling and mentorship can create socially rooted, resilient citizens who see viable futures in India.
This approach addresses a subtle facet of brain drain: the narrative of success. If success is consistently portrayed as “going to America” or working in a foreign multinational, young talent will gravitate to that image. But if success stories emerge of innovators and leaders who arose from rural India and stayed to improve their communities, it broadens the imagination of what is possible domestically. There are already examples – entrepreneurs building startups in smaller Indian cities, NGOs led by foreign-educated Indians who returned, local governance champions, etc.
Scaling up grassroots capacity-building can multiply these examples. Over time, bolstering educational equity (more quality schools, teachers and scholarships across India) will enlarge the talent pool and reduce the feeling that one must escape India to fulfill one’s potential. It’s a slow solution, but a sustainable one for long-term brain gain: ensuring India’s intellectual capital is grown and retained from the bottom up, not just retained at the top. As the Economist might put it, the country needs not only world-class universities but also world-class primary schools, so the brightest minds of the next generation see a future in India at every stage of their development.
The diaspora dividend: From brain drain to brain bank
While brain drain poses challenges, India’s global diaspora also represents a tremendous asset – a “brain bank” that India can draw upon. The 32-million-strong Indian diaspora (including people of Indian origin) has achieved remarkable success overseas and many remain emotionally and economically connected to India. One clear benefit is remittances: India has been the world’s top recipient of remittances for over a decade. In 2022, the Indian diaspora sent home an unprecedented $111 billion in remittances, equivalent to about 3.3% of India’s GDP. This is larger than India’s earnings from IT exports or any single category of export. These inflows help stabilise India’s balance of payments and support millions of families.
Notably, about 36% of these remittances came from high-skilled Indian migrants in the U.S., UK and other high-income countries – a testament that even many well-educated Indians abroad send money to support parents, invest in property or fund charities at home. On the other hand, less-skilled migrants in the Gulf contributed around 28% of remittances. In sum, what India loses in direct talent, it partly gains back in financial flows from its overseas citizens.
Remittances to India reached $111 billion in 2022 – by far the largest in South Asia – but as a share of GDP (3.3%) they are lower than smaller countries that rely more on labour migration.
Beyond money, the diaspora boosts India’s soft power and global influence. Indian-origin CEOs of global companies, for instance, have often acted as unofficial ambassadors of India’s talent to the world. The likes of Sundar Pichai (Google) or Satya Nadella (Microsoft) bring visibility to India’s strengths in tech and management. Diplomatically, countries with a strong Indian diaspora (like the U.S., UK, Canada) tend to have interest groups and caucuses that lobby for good relations with India. Culturally, the spread of Bollywood, yoga and Indian cuisine worldwide owes much to diaspora communities acting as cultural carriers. All of this strengthens India’s global standing in ways that are hard to quantify but valuable.
The concept of “brain circulation” is gaining traction as a way to turn brain drain into an advantage. Instead of a one-way loss, India can benefit if its overseas talent remains engaged and circulates knowledge back. There are numerous examples of this: Indian professors in the U.S. co-authoring research papers with colleagues in India; successful Indian entrepreneurs in Silicon Valley mentoring or investing in Indian startups; doctors of Indian origin abroad conducting free medical camps or training sessions in India; and the returnees who come back with new skills.
In fact, the rise of India’s IT and outsourcing industry in the 1990s and 2000s was catalysed by diaspora professionals who returned or built business bridges – the founders of major IT firms and many venture capital funds had international experience. Today, the Indian startup scene sees significant funding from diaspora investors. The Global Innovation Index rankings of recent years have noted India’s progress and attribute part of it to the knowledge linkages of its diaspora scientists and engineers. A fascinating observation is how China leveraged its diaspora: many Chinese-origin scholars abroad began citing and collaborating with China-based researchers, boosting China’s scientific output. India is trying a similar approach, encouraging its scientists overseas to contribute to domestic research from afar.
Moreover, not all who leave are gone forever. A trend of reverse migration or “brain gain” has begun in small numbers. Some Indian professionals, after a decade in the West, choose to return home for personal or professional reasons – be it the pull of family, the attraction of India’s growing market or a desire to contribute to their homeland. For example, in the past few years, senior executives from Silicon Valley have moved to Bangalore to lead Indian tech firms or venture funds.
Certain government initiatives, like the ones mentioned (Ramanujan fellowships, etc.), have convinced expatriate researchers to come back. While these returnees are still a trickle compared to the outflow, they have outsized impact by bringing global expertise to India’s institutions. Each such case also serves as a symbol of possibilities, showing that India can be a place where world-class careers are possible.
In essence, India’s aim is to strike a balance – to maintain a healthy circulation of talent. As one commentator framed it, the goal should be not to completely halt brain drain (which is neither feasible nor desirable in an open world), but to transform it into brain circulation where the Indian “brain network” spans continents but remains connected to India. With strategic engagement, the vast Indian diaspora can be India’s “brain reserve,” contributing to national development through remittances, investments, knowledge exchange, and even return migration. Or as a pithy saying goes, if China has built physical infrastructure across the world, India has built influence through its people. Harnessing that influence is key to turning the brain drain narrative into one of brain gain.
Toward brain gain
Reversing India’s brain drain is a complex challenge – akin to “navigating a labyrinth,” as one policy forum described it. There is no single magic bullet; it requires coordinated improvements across India’s educational, economic and governance landscape. The analysis above suggests a dual focus strategy. In the short to medium term, India must continue enhancing domestic opportunities for excellence: better universities, more R&D funding, thriving industries and liveable cities.
When talented Indians see that they can fulfill their aspirations at home nearly as well as abroad, the incentive to leave will naturally diminish. Initial signs are encouraging – India’s rising economy and vibrant tech sector are already persuading some to stay, and even luring back a few who left. If sustained, investments in research, innovation and education will gradually make India a global knowledge hub in its own right, not just a supplier of talent to hubs elsewhere.
Equally important is the long-term groundwork of human capital development. This means fixing the leaky pipes at the source: providing quality schooling and mentorship at the grassroots so that all Indians with ability can rise. By broadening and diversifying the talent pipeline, India ensures that one person’s emigration is not a catastrophic loss because many others are ready to step up. And those who do rise from humble roots might be more inclined to drive change in their communities, creating a virtuous cycle of development. Over time, a more inclusive and robust domestic talent pool will reduce the desperation or necessity that often underlies brain drain. It will also produce leaders who are socially rooted and perhaps less inclined to permanently relocate, preferring instead to improve conditions in India. As this happens, the narrative shifts “from brain drain to brain gain” – with India not only sending out talent, but increasingly attracting talent and capital back.
Finally, embracing the diaspora as partners is crucial. Rather than lamenting those who left, India is learning to leverage their success. The vision of Viksit Bharat (Developed India) 2047, by the time India reaches 100 years of independence, explicitly counts on diaspora collaboration and returnees to boost India’s leap into a developed, innovation-driven economy. This is a pragmatic and modern outlook: in a globalised world, migration can be a win-win if managed well.
Migrants gain skills and income abroad, and with the right incentives and attachments, their homeland can benefit through remittances, investments and knowledge transfer. The key is keeping the connections alive. India’s policies are gradually moving in that direction – from easier OCI (Overseas Citizen of India) cards to involving diaspora experts in advisory roles. If India succeeds, it will exemplify what some scholars term not a brain drain but a “brain circulation” system, where human capital flows out but also circulates back in new forms.
In conclusion, India’s brain drain challenge is real and pressing, but it is not insurmountable. The country’s vast population means it can continue to supply global talent, but with wise policy it can also increasingly retain talent and welcome it back. The road to brain gain runs through strengthening institutions at home and building bridges abroad. By tackling educational inequities, improving research ecosystems, incentivising returns and leveraging its diaspora, India can turn the tide. The transformation will not happen overnight – it’s a generational endeavour – but the stakes are high. A India that keeps its best minds (or welcomes them back after they win laurels abroad) will be in a far stronger position to innovate, grow economically, and solve its development challenges.
The brain drain, in other words, can be converted into a brain trust. As India marches towards great-power status, retaining its human capital will be as vital as any infrastructure or economic reform. The coming years will test whether India can indeed channel its famed talent pipeline inward for its own advancement, fulfilling the promise of “brain gain” after decades of brain drain.
Health NGOs: Partnering for Better Healthcare Delivery
The world in the aftermath of COVID-19 can be distinctly divided into two eras: pre-pandemic and post-pandemic. The crisis was not only a global health emergency but also a profound social rupture that redefined how we live, communicate, work and engage with systems meant to support our well-being. The pandemic was a stress test — one that laid bare the structural vulnerabilities in our societies and revealed uncomfortable truths about everyday life that had long gone unaddressed.
As COVID-19 swept across countries and continents, it dismantled the illusion of preparedness. It exposed glaring gaps in public health education, particularly revealing how deeply misinformation can embed itself in the absence of trusted communication channels. This time also highlighted the fragility of frontline response mechanisms in our country. While all of us witnessed the crumbling medical infrastructure in our country, the silent crisis was unfolding in the realm of health awareness on a community-level.
The persistent cracks in public health education amplified the scale of suffering, leading to preventable confusion, fear and mistrust. Thus in a post-pandemic world, the real battleground in a public health crisis scenario is not just in hospitals, but in homes, schools, streets and community centres. In fact, the need for accessible and community-driven health education has never been more evident than now.
The decline of public health education in India
In February 2025, the United States government significantly scaled back the operations of USAID (United States Agency for International Development) by terminating a large number of its global projects. This decision sent ripples through the international development and public health sectors, where USAID has long played a pivotal role in providing both humanitarian aid and development assistance, especially in low- and middle-income countries.
While India, with its expanding economy and increasingly self-reliant health initiatives, may be relatively insulated from the full brunt of these cuts, the same cannot be said for many nations which were heavily reliant on external support for health education, disease prevention, etc.
The global public health community was taken by surprise. Beyond its immediate operational impact, the withdrawal of USAID funding has led to a noticeable contraction in the global public health job market. This has reduced career prospects for thousands of early-career professionals, particularly those pursuing or recently completing a postgraduation in Public Health and similar degrees in the health space.
The withdrawal has led many international projects to cease operations, followed by limited donor funding and shrinking NGO operations. Due to this, the pipeline between public health education and employment has been severely disrupted. For students and professionals seeking to apply their expertise in global or community health contexts, this moment represents both a crisis and a call to reimagine how nations can build self-sustaining public health systems that are not overly dependent on foreign aid.
Reduced funding for public health degrees further undermines the already limited emphasis on effective public health communication.
Emphasising the lessons learnt from COVID
A key challenge in India’s public health landscape that came to the fore during COVID is the disconnect between health policy and grassroots communication. Much of the public health messaging is top-down, technical and not tailored to the linguistic or social realities of diverse communities. This gap becomes particularly dangerous in crisis scenarios such as the pandemic, where misinformation spreads faster than facts and communities are left without trusted local sources of guidance.
Since the country anyway faces an acute shortage of trained public health professionals. While doctors and nurses are integral to healthcare delivery, public health educators, field health workers, are also equally pertinent. Partnerships are key among these players, further reinforcing that health education must be localised and people-driven.
The role of civil society is also pertinent herein. For instance, Smile Foundation emerged as a vital grassroots entity that mobilised resources, health workers as well as community volunteers to reach underserved communities. This was evident through key initiatives such as the Health Cannot Wait campaign, which provided protective gear to frontline health workers and hygiene kits to vulnerable populations.
Additionally, through our community health programmes, we sensitised communities on critical health issues via telecounselling and other outreach efforts, helping to bridge the gap between formal healthcare systems and local realities.
These efforts put forth an example to highlight the power of decentralised, trust-based communication in times of crisis as well as the need to strengthen civil society linkages as a permanent fixture of India’s public health ecosystem. It is clear that formal education must be complemented by grassroots capacity-building, particularly in areas where formal health services are still inaccessible.
In India, women’s progress has often been told as a story of triumph — classrooms once closed to girls now filled with ambitious students, workplaces brimming with female professionals and political platforms featuring women leaders who once would never have been given a seat at the table. On paper, the numbers speak of remarkable advancement like more women earning degrees than ever before, joining STEM fields, launching start-ups and leading social change. Laws around inheritance and workplace safety, government schemes supporting girls’ education and employment and even quotas in politics appear to cement a steady march toward equality.
But for too many Indian women, education and employment do not automatically translate into safety, respect or agency. The independence that should signal freedom often triggers resentment, stigma or violence. Women who visibly succeed are still punished for defying patriarchal expectations and institutions meant to protect them frequently fail. The paradox is striking: India celebrates women’s empowerment in headlines, while everyday stories reveal how precarious that empowerment remains.
The paradox of progress and peril
On July 10, 2025, Radhika Yadav, a 25-year-old state-level tennis player and coach from Gurugram, was shot dead by her father. Her crime was independence. Radhika had built a coaching venture, gained public recognition for her achievements and supported her family financially. In many societies, her success would be a cause for celebration. In her home, it triggered resentment and violence.
Her story is not isolated. In Odisha, a 20-year-old college student who filed a formal sexual harassment complaint against her professor set herself on fire after institutional inaction. In Pune, young women in a hostel who sought police support were dismissed, harassed and denied protection. In each case, women who showed agency — by filing complaints, by standing up, by seeking justice — were betrayed not just by individuals but by the systems meant to protect them.
The tragedy is systemic. Empowerment, when unsupported by institutional safeguards and cultural change, becomes perilous. Women’s agency may place them in greater danger if patriarchal backlash is left unchecked. This is the dissonance India grapples with today: symbolic empowerment that often collides with lived powerlessness.
Numbers behind the narrative
The statistics paint an equally unsettling picture.
In 2022, India reported 445,256 crimes against women — over 51 cases every hour, a 4% rise from the previous year (NCRB).
The national rate stood at 66.4 crimes per 100,000 population, with Uttar Pradesh topping the list (65,000 cases), followed by Maharashtra and Rajasthan.
Over 30,000 cases of rape were registered, with Rajasthan, Uttar Pradesh and Madhya Pradesh leading the grim tally.
NFHS-5 data shows that 29% of women still face marriage-related violence, with alarming figures in Karnataka (44%), Bihar (40%), Telangana (~38%) and Manipur (39%).
At the same time, NFHS indicators on bank account ownership, mobile usage and property rights highlight progress in women’s economic and social agency. More women are included in financial systems, education is climbing and their visibility in workplaces is growing.
But the paradox of rising visibility with rising violence persists. Empowerment and vulnerability sit side by side, underlining that access without safety is an incomplete victory.
Structural failures: Laws without teeth
India has no shortage of laws designed to protect women — from the Sexual Harassment of Women at Workplace Act (2013) to amendments in criminal law following the Nirbhaya case. Welfare schemes promise support through conditional cash transfers, employment initiatives and maternal health entitlements.
But implementation falters. Workplace complaints go unanswered. Police refuse to register FIRs. Court delays deny justice for years. Social expectations continue to push women back into caregiving roles regardless of their education or employment. Too often, policies treat women as beneficiaries of welfare rather than agents of change.
The result is a widening gulf between empowerment as a statistic and empowerment as a lived reality. Women may have a bank account, but not the freedom to decide how to use it. They may have a seat at a workplace, but not protection from harassment. They may hold a degree, but not the autonomy to marry or move freely.
A global lens: India is not alone
This paradox is not unique to India. Across the Global South, women’s empowerment on paper frequently clashes with entrenched patriarchal realities.
In Bangladesh, rising garment sector employment has given millions of women financial independence — yet reports of gender-based violence remain high, particularly against working women.
In Kenya, despite women’s strong presence in informal markets, land ownership remains overwhelmingly male, constraining women’s decision-making.
In the United States, women occupy leadership roles in record numbers, yet face rising maternal mortality rates, particularly among Black women, pointing to systemic neglect of gendered health needs.
Globally, progress in economic participation is often undermined by stagnant or worsening indicators on safety, health and representation. The UN’s 2023 SDG Gender Snapshot warns that not a single target on gender equality is on track to be met by 2030. Less than 1% of women and girls live in countries with both high empowerment and low gender inequality.
India’s paradox is thus part of a global crisis: the risk that empowerment rhetoric outpaces structural reform.
Feminist movements and the call for gender education
If structural failures weaken empowerment, feminist movements provide the counterweight. From protests after the 2012 Delhi gang rape to campaigns against child marriage and workplace harassment, India’s women’s rights movements have consistently forced political and social attention onto issues often brushed aside.
Globally too, feminist movements have held democracies accountable. In Latin America, campaigns like Ni Una Menos mobilised millions to confront femicide. In the Middle East, women-led protests in Iran and Afghanistan defied authoritarian crackdowns. These movements demonstrate that gender equality advances only when power is contested, not when it is benevolently granted.
One enduring solution lies in gender education. Integrating feminist studies, critical thinking and gender awareness into classrooms can help dismantle harmful norms early. Schools are not just spaces of instruction, but of social conditioning. By challenging unequal power dynamics in education itself, India can build generations less bound by patriarchal structures.
Civil society’s role: Bridging the gap
During COVID-19, when formal systems collapsed, India saw the importance of grassroots organisations in action. The Smile Foundation’s Health Cannot Wait campaign reached vulnerable communities with hygiene kits and protective gear. Its community health workers conducted tele counselling and awareness campaigns when misinformation was rampant.
Beyond health, Smile Foundation’s Swabhimanprogramme, launched in 2005, embodies how civil society can strengthen empowerment. Swabhiman works with socially excluded women across urban and rural areas, focusing on nutrition, healthcare and livelihood. It capacitates women through community practices, enabling them to seek healthcare, earn independently and participate in decision-making. Importantly, the programme engages men and boys to challenge patriarchal attitudes — tackling empowerment as a societal transformation rather than a women-only project.
Its impact is measurable: 68 women-led businesses and micro-enterprises were created in FY24, alongside thousands of women trained in financial literacy, digital skills and entrepreneurship. Each case is a reminder that empowerment anchored in skills, safety and social awareness can translate to genuine agency.
The way forward: Beyond symbolic empowerment
So what would it take to move from symbolic empowerment to substantive equality? A few pathways emerge:
Safety as a non-negotiable baseline: Without bodily safety and institutional accountability, empowerment is precarious. Police reform, gender-sensitive law enforcement and fast-track courts must be prioritised.
Redefining empowerment: Policies must shift from seeing women as beneficiaries of welfare to agents of change. Schemes should embed women’s decision-making power, not just extend support.
Feminist education: Gender studies should be integrated into mainstream curricula, building critical thinking around equality from an early age.
Economic independence + social support: Skilling programmes must go hand-in-hand with safety nets and family sensitisation, ensuring women who step into workspaces are not penalised at home.
Civil society and CSR partnerships: NGOs and corporate partners must expand outcome-driven models, pooling resources to deliver measurable change — from digital inclusion to entrepreneurship.
With or without power
India’s women today live in contradiction. They are more educated, more visible and more ambitious than any generation before. But their achievements are too often shadowed by danger, stigma and systemic neglect.
True empowerment is not about counting women in classrooms or boardrooms, but about ensuring those women can walk home safely, speak without fear and claim their rights without retaliation. It is about shifting from symbolic progress to structural power.
The choice India faces is stark, that of continuing celebrating milestones while ignoring the dangers or confront the paradox head-on by investing in safety, feminist education and inclusive systems. Civil society, movements and policy reforms together can ensure that empowerment is not a veneer but a lived reality.
Because empowerment without safety is not empowerment at all.
If you’ve ever tried elbowing your way through India’s college admission season, you know the feeling. Application portals crash, cut-off percentages soar into the stratosphere and social media fills up with stories of students who scored 99% yet are still scrambling for a seat. Welcome to the rat race of Indian higher education, where aspiration outpaces opportunity and affordability remains a nagging wall many cannot climb.
Delhi University, for instance, has around 70,000 undergraduate seats across 91 colleges. Sounds decent until you realise that over 2.6 million students apply each year. Even if you’re among the select few to secure admission, another hurdle stares you down: the cost. Parents dip into savings, take out loans or swallow their pride and borrow from relatives. For millions of others, even that isn’t an option.
Scholarships as equalisers
For a child from a tea-estate in Assam or a Dalit family in Bundelkhand, a scholarship is validation that their hard work matters, that talent can trump circumstance. Scholarships level the playing field, ensuring that higher education is not just a privilege of the wealthy but a right accessible to all.
And the need is acute. Seats in government-funded universities with low fees are limited, while private institutions charge in lakhs. Without scholarships, thousands of brilliant students simply disappear from the education pipeline.
Smile Foundation, for instance, runs a scholarship programme that doesn’t just stop at tuition — it covers books, mentorship and skill-building. That extra layer matters. Imagine being the first in your family to enter a university. The culture shock, the academic rigor, the peer pressure — these can all derail you. Scholarships that provide both money and mentorship act as scaffolding, helping students stay the course.
A quick detour: Where did scholarships come from?
Scholarships have a surprisingly dramatic backstory. Ancient Greece revered learning but reserved it mostly for the elite. Every so often, though, acts of generosity opened doors — Alexander the Great famously funded a school under Aristotle. Rome followed suit, with wealthy patrons occasionally supporting poor but bright students.
By the Middle Ages, as universities like Oxford, Bologna and Sorbonne emerged, scholarships became more structured. Churches and monasteries established charitable endowments. Some students even entered early versions of work-study programmes — labouring in return for tuition.
Fast forward to the Enlightenment, when Europe’s wealthy and royalty began pouring money into scholarship funds as a way to promote knowledge and, frankly, legacy. The U.S. took things further: Harvard offered early scholarships, while the G.I. Bill of 1944 revolutionised access by enabling millions of returning soldiers to study.
Today, scholarships worldwide are a multibillion-dollar enterprise. From global giants like the Rhodes Scholarship to grassroots community grants, they remain the bridge between potential and opportunity.
India’s story
India has always had a tradition of patronage in education. Nalanda and Takshashila attracted scholars from Asia, often supported by royal or monastic assistance. Later, during colonial times, structured systems evolved. Philanthropists like Jamsetji Tata (1892) funded Indian students abroad. By 1944, the government had launched the Post-Matric Scholarship for Scheduled Castes, a ground breaking move to counter entrenched caste barriers.
Post-independence, the challenge was clear. While India promised universal education, economic disparities and caste inequities created walls. To tackle this, the state and UGC (University Grants Commission) built extensive scholarship frameworks — targeting Dalits, OBCs, tribal communities, women and the poor.
Some milestones:
1998: Post-Matric Scholarships for OBCs.
2008: National Means-cum-Merit Scholarship Scheme (NMMSS).
2009 onwards: A proliferation of state-specific and minority-focused scholarships.
Despite gaps in awareness and accessibility, scholarships in India have undeniably been engines of social mobility.
Why do they matter in today’s India
Let’s zoom in on the present. Scholarships are investment multipliers.
Breaking poverty cycles: When a student gets a degree, their family income potential often triples within a generation.
Equity for marginalised groups: Women, Dalits and Adivasis — long excluded — are offered a fair shot.
Regional balance: Scholarships enable students from remote or rural areas to access top institutions.
Human capital: As India races to be a $5 trillion economy, it needs skilled graduates — not just in engineering or medicine but across humanities, social sciences and emerging industries.
Invest in a child’s education today and you’re not just lifting them — you’re strengthening the economy and democracy itself.
The personal face of scholarships
Numbers are important, but the true weight of scholarships lies in stories.
Radhika Yadav, Madhya Pradesh: The daughter of a farmer, she dreamt of studying law. A scholarship covered her tuition and hostel fees. Today, she’s a practicing lawyer fighting for land rights of small farmers — people like her father.
Amit, Bihar: His mother works as a domestic helper. Without a scholarship, he would’ve dropped out after Class 12. Instead, he pursued computer science and now teaches coding to kids from low-resource settings..
Seema, Delhi slum cluster: With a scholarship, she studied nursing. During COVID-19, she was on the frontlines, saving lives, proving the ripple effect of that one intervention years earlier.
Every scholarship awarded is, in effect, an investment in a human story — one that often pays back many times over.
But the system isn’t perfect
Here’s the tricky part: scholarships can be riddled with bureaucracy. Application forms are long, documentation requirements absurd (imagine asking a daily wage worker for notarised income certificates) and disbursement often delayed. Awareness is another issue — thousands of scholarships go unclaimed each year because students simply don’t know they exist.
There’s also a mismatch between where scholarships exist and where they’re needed most. Urban students with internet access and coaching often corner opportunities, while rural or first-generation learners miss out.
The New Frontier: Digital & data-driven scholarships
Thankfully, things are changing. The National Scholarship Portal (NSP) now aggregates thousands of schemes in one place. AI-driven platforms are helping match students with scholarships suited to their profiles. Corporates are stepping in too — linking CSR funds to education initiatives.
Imagine a near-future scenario:
A student logs into a portal, fills a single profile.
AI scans their background, grades, location,\ and interests.
Instantly, it generates a personalised list of scholarships they qualify for.
Applications are auto-filled, verified digitally and funds disbursed directly into their bank account.
It’s already happening in parts of India. The challenge is scaling it to every village and town.
The Gender Dividend
Scholarships for women are particularly powerful. Educated women marry later, have healthier children and participate more in the workforce. Each of these outcomes boosts GDP. A UNICEF study found that every additional year of schooling for girls increases their future earnings by 10-20%.
Targeted scholarships for women in STEM, medicine or even vocational training are game-changers. Imagine if India doubled its female laboUr force participation — it could add $770 billion to GDP by 2025 (McKinsey). Scholarships are one of the most cost-effective levers to make that happen.
Beyond access, towards innovation
As India positions itself as a knowledge economy, scholarships must go beyond funding access. They must incentivise research, innovation and entrepreneurship. Imagine scholarships tied to climate solutions, rural health innovations or AI ethics. These would not only empower individuals but also align education with national and global priorities.
Equally, scholarships should nurture soft skills — communication, leadership, resilience—often the missing pieces between a degree and employability. Smile Foundation’s model of pairing financial aid with mentorship is precisely the kind of holistic approach India needs.
If we want to reap our much-touted demographic dividend, we need to ensure no bright child is forced to drop out because of money. If we want innovation, we need scholarships that push research. If we want equality, we need targeted scholarships for women, Dalits and marginalised groups.
Invest a rupee in scholarships today and watch it multiply in the form of stronger families, healthier communities and a more competitive nation tomorrow.
Scholarships are about recognising that brilliance is universal —e ven if opportunity is not. They are about saying to every child: your dreams are valid and we will help you chase them.
India is at a tipping point. We can either let financial barriers waste the potential of millions or we can turn scholarships into rocket fuel for our nation’s growth story.
