Categories
Health

Mobile Boat Clinics Reducing Health Expenses in Rural Assam

As the torrential rain lashed and the Brahmaputra raged, in late May and early June 2025, devastating floods and landslides in Assam and other Northeastern states of India, impacted over 364,000 people across 19 districts in Assam alone. Every year, millions of people are displaced and extensive property, crops and livestock are destroyed in annual floods in Assam and in downstream Bangladesh. Floodwaters cover roads, and many river islands remain cut off for extended periods, making it difficult to reach essential medical services. Therefore, it is clear that delivering sustained and emergency healthcare in riverine regions presents numerous challenges. 

Boat clinics: Bringing the clinic to the people

Today, in Brahmaputra, a boat painted in white and blue makes its way towards a cluster of huts perched on an island. It carries some valuables — a doctor, a nurse, a counsellor, a stack of medicines, diagnostic tools, and, perhaps most importantly, hope. This is the Smile Foundation’s mobile boat clinic, launched in South Salmara under a CSR partnership with MSD Pharmaceuticals. The boat clinic is bringing primary healthcare to some of Assam’s most inaccessible communities — the riverine islands that dot the state’s vast waterways.

These islands are home to thousands of families who often live hours away from the nearest brick-and-mortar health facility. Moreover, the doctors often hesitate to work in remote areas, where low literacy rates, diverse dialects and poor mobile coverage impede health education. For them, seeking medical care has traditionally meant a chain of out-of-pocket expenses: hiring a boat to the mainland, paying for transport to the district hospital, losing a day’s wages and bearing the cost of treatment and medicines.

Smile Foundation’s model flips this equation. Instead of the patient travelling to the clinic, the clinic travels to the patient. In South Salmara, the boat clinic visits on a planned schedule. The team — a locally recruited doctor, nurse, counsellor and driver — provides free consultations, diagnostics and medicines right on the boat.

The hidden costs of distance

Consider a mother whose child experiences a fever at night. The nearest hospital is on the mainland, some two hours away by boat and bus. The journey might cost quite a bit of money that could also be a week’s worth of food.

Many delay seeking care, relying instead on home remedies or local healers until the condition becomes severe. This delay often turns what could have been a small expense into a hospitalisation worth several thousand rupees. By placing a doctor and basic medicines within the community, early diagnosis of conditions like diarrhoea, malaria or hypertension prevents costly complications later. Pregnant women receive antenatal check-ups without travelling miles. Children are vaccinated on schedule.

Community trust and local hiring for boat clinics

When the nurse talking to you is from your island and the counsellor speaks your language, it is much easier to receive care. Smile Foundation’s decision to hire people from the communities where they work not only creates jobs but also helps build trust. Patients are more likely to speak openly about their problems, follow advice and return for check-ups. Trust also plays a vital role in preventive health, which is a crucial yet often overlooked way to reduce medical costs. Boat clinic teams collaborate with frontline health facilitators like ASHAs and health volunteers to educate people about nutrition, maternal health and non-communicable diseases. 

Digital records for long-term savings via boat clinics

Our digital patient database records every interaction, allowing for follow-up visits and referrals. This prevents duplication of tests and ensures continuity of care. Yet again, two factors that can significantly reduce unnecessary spending for patients. It also facilitated further referrals, if needed, to a larger facility, by offering documented history of the patient, reducing both diagnostic time and costs at the next level of care.

Scaling the Model

On the shifting sands of Assam’s river islands, a clinic that floats is often the only one that arrives. The South Salmara boat clinic is a component of a more extensive MSD–Smile Foundation initiative that spans 17 underdeveloped districts in India, including 12 districts and 12 island clusters in Assam.

Each vessel can see hundreds of patients every month — children with fever, mothers in labour, elderly men with chronic conditions — at a cost that is a fraction of building and staffing permanent health centres. For families who live hours away from the nearest hospital, that difference can be life-saving.

But the real measure of success is in what happens afterwards. Money not drained by hospital visits goes into school fees, better food on the table, small loans to start a business. Less debt means fewer families fall into poverty. Health ripples outward into dignity and stability.

If this model can be sustained and expanded, the floating clinic could become as ordinary — and as essential — as the ferry that carries villagers across the Brahmaputra each day.  This would pave the way for a future in which the ambitions of the riverine communities of Assam are not dashed by out-of-pocket health expenses.

Categories
Smile

Why Educating Tribal Children Is India’s Forgotten Frontier

Shreya, a young girl from Himachal Pradesh’s Kangra valley, has a dream: “I want to move so far ahead in life that I don’t have to make my father do the work he currently does. I want to take care of my family.”

Hundreds of kilometers away, in Kulamua, Assam, Antora echoes a similar wish: “I dream of giving my family a comfortable life, a good life.”

These are not extraordinary dreams. They are as ordinary — and as essential — as any dream a child in Delhi, Bengaluru or Mumbai might have. But for millions of India’s tribal children, the simple act of dreaming big is itself an act of courage.

Why tribal education matters

India is home to 10.4 crore people from Scheduled Tribes—8.6% of our population. They belong to hundreds of unique communities, speak dozens of languages, and live across forests, mountains, deserts and islands. Yet, their children face barriers to education that most urban families cannot even imagine.

Think about it while one child’s worry is whether they’ll get a tablet for online classes, a tribal child’s worry might be whether the nearest school even has a roof. While one child is enrolled in coaching for IIT, another is walking five kilometres through a forest just to attend a Class 4 session.

Education, in theory, is the great equaliser. But for tribal children, it often becomes the great divider.

The ground reality

Why do so many tribal children drop out of school?

  1. Geographic isolation: Villages are scattered, schools are distant, roads are nonexistent. For a child in Bastar, a “school nearby” might still mean a two-hour trek through forest paths.
  2. Infrastructure gaps: Even when schools exist, they may not have trained teachers, safe classrooms, toilets or learning materials. A leaking roof can be enough to deter attendance.
  3. Economic pressure: Survival comes first. If a child can graze goats, fetch firewood or work in fields, that’s one less burden on the family. Education becomes a luxury they cannot afford.
  4. Cultural disconnect: Curriculums are designed in urban centres, often ignoring tribal languages, values and lived realities. Imagine being taught history that never mentions your people or science in a language you barely speak.
  5. Bureaucratic hurdles: Even schemes meant for tribal upliftment get tangled in red tape. Delayed disbursements, documentation demands, and lack of local planning all erode trust.

Shreya and Antora: Small stories, big lessons

At Smile Foundation’s Mission Education centres in Kangra and Kulamua, Shreya and Antora have found something rare classrooms that feel like home.

Shreya, once hesitant, now raises her hand proudly: “Pehle mai participate nahi karti thee, ab mai participate kar rahi hoon.” (Earlier I did not participate; now I am involved in everything.)

Antora, for her part, calls her school “a gift for us.”

The national picture: A policy–reality gap

India doesn’t lack policies. From the Right to Education Act to targeted tribal scholarships, from the Eklavya Model Residential Schools (EMRS) to state-level incentives, there’s no shortage of programs on paper.

But execution is still patchy. EMRS schools, for instance, aim to set up one residential school in every block with 50% tribal population. But as of 2023, less than half of the sanctioned schools are fully functional. In many states, dropout rates among tribal children remain significantly higher than the national average.

This gap is not about intent — it’s about delivery.

What needs to change

So how do we turn policy intent into classroom reality? Here’s a roadmap worth considering:

  • Localised, culturally rooted education: Curriculums must respect tribal culture, values and languages. Teaching in mother tongues in early grades can dramatically improve learning outcomes.
  • Vocational pathways: Culturally relevant vocational programmes — be it eco-tourism, sustainable agriculture or forest management — should be woven into secondary education. This makes school meaningful for families too.
  • Flexible access models: Mobile schools for nomadic tribes, year-round admissions and reduced documentation can widen the entry gate.
  • Empowered local monitoring: Panchayats, community leaders and local NGOs should be equipped to oversee schemes, track teacher attendance and plug gaps.
  • Holistic support: Free coaching, counselling and mentoring can help tribal children not just stay in school but aim higher — entrance exams, skill-building and career planning.
  • Higher education access: Setting up IGNOU-style distance education institutes in tribal belts can make college affordable and reachable.
  • Corporate and NGO partnerships: Companies under CSR and NGOs like Smile Foundation can complement state efforts, experimenting with models that government schools can later adopt.

Why it’s worth it

  • Economic dividend: Tribal communities make up a large share of India’s population. Investing in their education unlocks a vast pool of human capital.
  • Social equity: Education is the fastest way to reduce long-standing inequalities rooted in caste and tribe.
  • Cultural preservation: Education that respects tribal heritage ensures languages, art and traditions are not lost.
  • National integration: A child who feels included in the education system is more likely to feel included in the nation’s story.

Every pencil, a new future

There’s a striking image often shared in classrooms of a pencil as a weapon of change. Every time a tribal child picks up a pencil, they challenge centuries of exclusion. They signal to the world: I belong here, I matter, and I will write my own story.

And when children like Shreya and Antora succeed, the ripple effects are enormous. An educated daughter inspires younger siblings. An employed son supports aging parents. A literate household pushes for better governance. One pencil can rewrite an entire community’s future.

Educating tribal children is about giving children born in forests, deserts and mountains the same right to dream as those born in cities.

NGOs like Smile Foundation are showing what’s possible with community-driven, culturally sensitive models. But to scale this, India needs a coalition: governments, corporations, NGOs and citizens working together.

If India is serious about becoming a knowledge economy, about harnessing its demographic dividend, then no child — especially those furthest from the spotlight — can be left behind.

Closing thought

Shreya’s dream is to ease her father’s burden. Antora’s dream is to give her family a comfortable life.

Neither dream should be extraordinary. And yet, in today’s India, they are.

The true measure of our progress as a nation will not be how many AI engineers we export to Silicon Valley, but how many tribal children we empower to dream freely and how many of those dreams we help come true.

Because in the end, a nation is only as strong as the dreams it nurtures.

Categories
Health

Public Health in India: Progress, Gaps and Possibilities

The promise and the paradox

It is a story of both triumph and tragedy. In just two decades, India has pulled off extraordinary feats: it eradicated polio, halved maternal mortality, extended life expectancy and, during the pandemic, ran the world’s largest vaccination drive, administering more than two billion doses through a homegrown digital platform.

But, for every success, there is a worrisome statistic. India remains home to the largest number of stunted children in the world — more than one in three under the age of five. Tuberculosis still kills more Indians every year than any other infectious disease. And even as communicable diseases linger, non-communicable conditions like diabetes, hypertension and heart disease have surged, accounting for more than 60 percent of deaths today.

The paradox of India’s public health system is not of absence, but of unevenness: breath-taking achievements on one hand, persistent fragility on the other.

Legacies of a patchwork system

India’s health system was designed, at least on paper, to be comprehensive. The pyramid model envisioned sub-centres and primary health centres in villages, community health centres at the block level and district hospitals serving as the backbone, with medical colleges and apex institutes offering specialised care.

But this architecture was always underfunded. India spends only 2.1 percent of its GDP on health — among the lowest in the world. As a result, infrastructure has been skeletal in many states: sub-centres without doctors, hospitals without oxygen plants and rural clinics lacking even electricity or running water.

The result is a patchwork of experiences. In Kerala, a pregnant woman can expect near-universal institutional delivery and skilled care. In parts of Madhya Pradesh, that same mother might deliver without trained assistance, her child facing an infant mortality rate nearly nine times higher. India does not have one health system; it has many, divided by geography, wealth, caste and gender.

The human face of health: Frontline workers

If the system has not collapsed under the weight of these inequities, it is because of the invisible army of women who keep it standing.

The ASHAs — Accredited Social Health Activists — serve as the first link between the state and her community. She walks miles under the sun to convince families to vaccinate their children, accompanies expectant mothers to health centres and explains to adolescents why nutrition matters. Anganwadi workers, another 1.3 million, provide early childhood care, hot meals and basic education in village centres, often with little more than a single room and a blackboard.

During COVID-19, these women became frontline warriors — tracking cases, delivering medicines, escorting patients to hospitals. Many fell sick themselves; some died. Their honorarium, often less than a daily wage in the city, was their only compensation.

Civil society organisations, including Smile Foundation, have long recognised the value of working with this cadre. From supporting ASHAs in maternal health awareness campaigns to strengthening Anganwadi infrastructure through partnerships with corporate donors, NGOs amplify what the state begins. But somehow India’s public health system rests on the shoulders of women who are still not formally recognised as workers.

Ambitious programmes, uneven realities

India does not lack ambition. The launch of the National Health Mission in 2005 created a new vocabulary of primary care and community participation. The Ayushman Bharat programme of 2018 sought to transform health access through two pillars: Health and Wellness Centres offering preventive, comprehensive care; and the Pradhan Mantri Jan Arogya Yojana (PM-JAY), the world’s largest health insurance scheme, covering half a billion people.

On paper, these are game-changing interventions. In reality, they face hurdles. PM-JAY has struggled with uneven participation by private hospitals, especially in rural areas and allegations of fraud. Health and Wellness Centres, envisioned as the new fulcrum of primary care, have been slow to scale. Critics warn that without strong investment in preventive health, insurance will end up subsidizing hospitalisation, not reducing it.

Nutrition policy tells a similar story. POSHAN Abhiyaan, launched in 2018, was meant to converge multiple schemes to reduce stunting and anaemia. Progress has been incremental but insufficient with more than half of Indian women of reproductive age are still anaemic and childhood wasting rates remain stubbornly high.

Ambition is not India’s problem. Execution is.

The COVID-19 stress test

The pandemic exposed both the fragility and resilience of India’s health system. Hospitals ran out of oxygen, families scrambled for beds and crematoriums overflowed during the devastating second wave. At the same time, local innovations saved lives: community kitchens, mobile health vans, grassroots volunteers and the relentless work of ASHAs and Anganwadi workers.

India also delivered a remarkable achievement: over two billion vaccine doses administered, powered by CoWIN, a digital platform built at scale and speed. It proved that with political will and technological innovation, the country can deliver. The question is whether that urgency can be applied outside a crisis.

The new frontiers: NCDs, mental health and climate

While India is still fighting tuberculosis and dengue, new frontiers of public health demand attention.

  • Non-communicable diseases (NCDs): With 77 million diabetics, India is often called the “diabetes capital of the world.” Hypertension affects one in four adults. These chronic conditions require lifelong management — a challenge for systems designed to tackle acute infections.
  • Mental health: For decades, mental illness was pushed to the margins. The Mental Healthcare Act (2017) promised parity with physical health, but funding remains below 1 percent of the health budget. The pandemic worsened the crisis, yet services are woefully inadequate, with less than one psychiatrist per lakh people.
  • Climate change: Rising heatwaves, floods and pollution are no longer environmental issues alone — they are health issues. Air pollution is now the second-highest risk factor for premature death in India. Climate-resilient health systems are no longer optional.

The cost of neglect

Underinvestment in health is not just a moral failure; it is an economic one. Out-of-pocket spending still makes up more than half of total health expenditure. Every year, millions are pushed below the poverty line because of medical bills. Productivity losses from malnutrition, untreated illnesses and NCDs run into billions of dollars.

The World Bank estimates that every dollar invested in early childhood health and nutrition yields up to $14 in returns. By that measure, India is leaving trillions on the table by failing to invest enough in its people’s health.

Civil society and the bridges they build

Government programmes, however ambitious, cannot succeed alone. Civil society organisations have long filled the gaps — in awareness, last-mile delivery and innovation. Smile Foundation, for instance, runs Smile on Wheels, a fleet of mobile hospitals that bring doctors and diagnostics to underserved areas. During floods in Kerala and Assam, Smile worked on restoring schools and health services, not just distributing rations.

These interventions may be small compared to national schemes, but they matter deeply to the families they touch. More importantly, they demonstrate what works combining state resources with community trust and pairing ambition with grassroots execution.

Towards a public health state

So, what will it take for India to move from survival to dignity in public health? Three shifts are essential.

First, money on the table. Without raising public health spending to at least 3 percent of GDP, infrastructure, workforce, and primary care will remain fragile. Second, focus on prevention, not just cure. Insurance schemes must not crowd out investments in nutrition, sanitation and awareness. Finally, recognition of the frontline. ASHAs and Anganwadi workers must be professionalised, paid and supported — because the future of India’s health depends on their labour.

Choosing the future

India stands at a crossroads. It has proven that it can deliver — eradicating polio, expanding institutional births, building a digital vaccination platform at scale. But it has also revealed how underinvestment, inequity and neglect can undo progress overnight.

The next chapter of India’s public health story must be about systems, not silos; dignity, not just survival. The state must lead, but it cannot do it alone. Civil society, corporations and communities all have a role to play.

As Smile Foundation’s work across villages and slums shows, health is not just about hospitals or insurance cards. It is about the confidence of a mother that her child will survive, the assurance of a worker that illness will not bankrupt him and the dignity of a frontline health worker who is finally valued for her labour.

In the end, public health is not a sector. It is the foundation of everything else — education, productivity, growth, equality. India’s future depends on whether it chooses to build that foundation strong and unshakeable.

Categories
Smile

ESG in India as Trust Infrastructure

Quick take: ESG isn’t a buzzword anymore — it’s the plumbing of trust. For boards, regulators and investors, ESG turns intent into verifiable outcomes; for nonprofits and CSR partners, it turns programmes into decision-useful data. This essay traces ESG’s global evolution, India’s 2025 rulebook, and — crucially — the “ESG infrastructure” inside Smile Foundation’s work that lets companies report with confidence while improving lives at scale.

From buzzword to baseline: a short history of ESG

Two decades ago, sustainability reporting was mostly voluntary and uneven. That changed in the mid-2000s when a UN-convened group of global financial institutions argued that environmental, social and governance issues were material to value creation. Their 2004 report—Who Cares Wins — popularised the term “ESG” and set off a chain reaction across capital markets.

The next milestone came in 2006 with the launch of the UN-supported Principles for Responsible Investment (PRI) — a voluntary code that now covers asset owners and managers who commit to integrate ESG factors in decisions. The PRI was unveiled at the New York Stock Exchange and has grown into a global coalition.

In parallel, the Global Reporting Initiative (GRI) founded in 1997, with roots in CERES, Tellus Institute and UNEP created the first widely used standards for sustainability reporting, later expanded to cover social and governance topics.

Fast-forward to the 2020s and the alphabet soup began to converge. In 2023, the International Sustainability Standards Board (ISSB) issued IFRS S1 (general sustainability disclosure) and IFRS S2 (climate), effective for annual periods beginning January 1, 2024 — arguably the clearest global baseline for investor-grade sustainability disclosures.

Meanwhile, the European Union’s Corporate Sustainability Reporting Directive (CSRD) moved non-financial reporting from “nice-to-have” to mandatory, beginning FY 2024 for the first wave and then phasing in additional companies. In 2025, the EU also voted to defer timelines for later waves, easing near-term burdens while keeping the direction of travel intact.

Markets want comparable, assured and decision-useful sustainability data — not anecdotes.

Current rulebook: where ESG in India meets CSR

India has built one of the most distinctive ESG ecosystems in the world by pairing capital-market disclosures with the world’s only mandatory CSR spend law.

  • Mandatory CSR: Under Section 135 of the Companies Act, 2013, qualifying companies must spend at least 2% of average net profits from the prior three years on CSR activities aligned to Schedule VII. Companies must also file CSR-2, a yearly return detailing projects and spends. NGOs executing CSR projects must register via CSR-1.
  • NGRBC → BRSR: India’s National Guidelines on Responsible Business Conduct (2019) led SEBI to replace the old BRR with Business Responsibility and Sustainability Reporting (BRSR), mandatory for the top 1,000 listed entities from FY 2022–23.
  • BRSR Core & assurance: In July 2023, SEBI introduced BRSR Core—a tighter set of key indicators requiring reasonable assurance, phasing in from the top 150 listed companies (FY 2023–24) and scaling up to the top 1,000 by FY 2026–27; SEBI has since refined timelines and introduced industry standards to make reporting more consistent.
  • Value-chain disclosures: SEBI’s framework extends to upstream and downstream partners (covering major purchase/sales relationships), recognizing that a company’s real impacts and risks sit in its ecosystem. Timelines have been adjusted to sequence capacity building before full compliance.
  • ESG mutual funds: SEBI now allows multiple ESG strategies (exclusions, integration, best-in-class, impact, sustainable objectives, transition) with clear naming norms and stronger anti-greenwashing disclosures.
  • Social Stock Exchange (SSE): SEBI’s SSE enables not-for-profit organizations to raise funds via Zero-Coupon Zero-Principal (ZCZP) instruments on NSE/BSE’s SSE segment—formalizing disclosures and transparency for philanthropic capital. Early listings demonstrate feasibility, and process improvements continue.
  • Regulatory fine-tuning: Like Europe, India is calibrating scope and timelines to balance ambition and feasibility; SEBI announced reviews of ESG requirements and value-chain deadlines in 2024–25.
  • Banking & climate risk: The RBI has issued a draft climate-risk disclosure framework (TCFD-aligned) for banks/NBFCs and launched a climate risk data platform (RBI-CRIS)—a strong signal that sustainability data will increasingly mediate credit and risk.

India’s model attaches reporting (BRSR/BRSR Core) to capital markets, funding (CSR/SSE) to statutory mechanisms, and risk (RBI) to finance. That creates both opportunity and responsibility for NGOs to generate assurable, interoperable impact data that corporate partners can plug straight into their ESG statements.

What “ESG in India” looks like inside a non-profit

ESG infrastructure is everything under the hood that makes an NGO a reliable partner for assured reporting. Think of it as four layers:

  1. Governance & integrity
    • Board independence, conflict-of-interest norms, audit trails, child-protection and safeguarding policies, grievance redressal, whistle-blower channels.
    • Clear procurement policies and vendor due diligence to support partners’ value-chain disclosures under BRSR Core.
    • Interoperability with global frameworks—so data can map to GRI, ISSB S1/S2 or CSRD concepts when a corporate needs it. (GRI provides explicit linkages to BRSR and alignment guidance across frameworks.)
  2. Data & measurement
    • Program logframes and indicator dictionaries that define inputs, outputs and outcomes.
    • Beneficiary registries with consent logs and privacy controls.
    • Monitoring dashboards that generate auditable evidence (attendance, service uptake, clinical or educational outcomes), with sampling plans for verification.
  3. Risk & compliance
    • Controls for financial management (maker-checker, reconciliations, restricted grant accounting).
    • Schedule VII alignment for projects (CSR eligibility), plus readiness for CSR-2 reporting for corporate partners.
    • SSE-readiness: documentation and impact metrics that can support ZCZP issuances where relevant.
  4. Transparency & assurance
    • Routine third-party evaluations, beneficiary feedback loops, and assurance packs (indicator definitions, raw extracts, enumerator protocols).
    • Ability to provide reasonable assurance-ready data on BRSR Core-like indicators (e.g., labour practices in the program supply chain, health & safety, community outcomes).

This is the invisible architecture that lets CSR teams move beyond “storytelling” to decision-useful, assurable impact.

Where Smile Foundation fits: translating programmes into ESG-grade evidence

Smile Foundation’s portfolio—education, primary healthcare, nutrition, women’s empowerment and disaster response—naturally aligns to the S in ESG, with spill overs into E (resilience, renewable integration) and G (transparent partnerships). Without over-claiming specifics, here’s how a well-built NGO infrastructure like Smile’s can power corporate ESG and CSR requirements:

Map programmes to corporate disclosures (BRSR/ISSB/CSRD)

  • Health access & prevention: Our mobile medical units and e-health touchpoints produce prevention and access metrics (screenings, immunisation linkages, referrals completed). These populate social-impact KPIs and value-chain disclosures for healthcare and FMCG partners under BRSR Core — especially where last-mile access is material to product stewardship or license to operate.
  • Nutrition & early childhood: Evidence on anaemia screening, maternal counselling and diet diversity ties into public-health outcomes and for food & beverage partners, contributes to responsible product & community nutrition narratives demanded under BRSR. (GRI-BRSR linkages help translate indicators.)
  • Education & skill building: Learning-outcome tracking (attendance, grade-level competencies) demonstrates human capital creation — useful for CSRD’s double materiality (inside-out community impact and outside-in risk) and ISSB’s focus on human capital where material.
  • Women’s agency: Programs that raise female labour-force participation or leadership in community health intersect with DEI metrics that boards increasingly disclose in ESG funds’ requirements and BRSR leadership indicators.
  • Resilience upgrades: Where feasible, solar lighting, water filtration or climate-smart improvements at clinics/schools can legitimately contribute to E-side goals — especially as RBI nudges lenders toward climate-risk transparency and adaptation finance.

Give boards audit-ready comfort (BRSR Core, CSR-2, SSE)

  • Assurance packs: Programme data configured to BRSR Core expectations (definitions, cut-offs, sampling) de-risks a corporate’s reasonable assurance cycle as SEBI’s glide path expands.
  • CSR compliance: Projects structured to Schedule VII categories and documented to support the company’s CSR-2 filing are now table stakes. NGOs that understand this reduce year-end surprises for boards and audit committees.
  • SSE option: For suitable projects, the Social Stock Exchange can channel philanthropic capital with regulated disclosures via ZCZP instruments—useful for companies seeking transparent, public fundraising for flagship social programmes.

Interoperability by design

Because global companies face ISSB/GRI/CSRD abroad and BRSR at home, Smile’s reporting needs to translate. GRI already publishes BRSR linkage guidance and broader interoperability notes across ISSB and ESRS standards — useful scaffolding for a common indicator dictionary.

Takeaway for CSR partners: you shouldn’t have to “re-build” evidence to suit each disclosure regime. A single, well-governed dataset should map across frameworks.

The cost question — and how to keep it real

Globally, companies have voiced concerns about the cost and complexity of new reporting regimes even as regulators argue the long-term benefits of standardized data. India is seeing similar calibration, with SEBI adjusting BRSR Core timelines and value-chain expectations.

What does that mean for NGO partners?

  1. Right-sizing data: Track fewer, higher-quality indicators that align with corporate materiality. Quality beats quantity — especially under assurance.
  2. Digital by default: Data capture needs lightweight offline capability, privacy controls and exportable audit trails — not bespoke tools that break at scale.
  3. Assurance readiness: Maintain enumerator training logs, SOPs and change histories. Auditors love clear versioning.
  4. Value-chain lens: If a company’s BRSR requires disclosures on its value chain, NGOs should anticipate vendor diligence (safeguarding, labour standards, emissions estimates) and have documentation ready.
  5. Finance-sector pull: As RBI’s climate-risk regime matures, banks will increasingly ask for risk-aware project design (e.g., climate-resilient sites, heat mitigation). NGOs that speak this language will find it easier to attract low-cost capital and CSR co-funding.

An operating model for policymakers and CSR leaders

A. For policymakers

  • Codify NGO outcome taxonomies. Offer standard indicator sets for education, health and nutrition that are assurance-ready and interoperable with ISSB/GRI/BRSR. (GRI already maps BRSR; extend and localize.)
  • Strengthen the SSE. Continue simplifying ZCZP issuance, create a “light” secondary disclosure channel and publish exemplar fundraising documents for replication.
  • Co-finance data systems. Underwrite shared open-source M&E stacks that trained NGOs can adopt with minimal cost.
  • Assurance ecosystem. Build a cadre of social-sector assurance providers (beyond financial audit firms) to reduce costs and speed verification cycles.
  • Align climate and social. As RBI finalizes climate-risk rules, encourage adaptation metrics in community health/education projects to crowd in finance.

For CSR partners

  • Start with materiality. Map your highest-priority BRSR/ISSB topics to programme outcomes (e.g., nutrition, women’s economic agency, adolescent learning). Don’t chase vanity metrics.
  • Co-design the indicator dictionary. Agree on definitions, disaggregation (gender, age, location) and sampling before grant signing.
  • Budget for verification. Reserve 5–10% of programme costs for independent evaluations or assurance packs.
  • Leverage the SSE. For flagship community programmes, consider ZCZP to signal transparency and crowd in co-funders.

What a Smile-style “ESG infrastructure” looks like in practice

Below is a condensed blueprint — not an exhaustive list — of what corporate partners should expect from a mature, assurance-ready NGO:

  1. Policy & governance
    • Board-approved code of conduct; anti-fraud, anti-bribery and safeguarding policies; DEI commitments; conflict-of-interest declarations.
    • Vendor onboarding with KYC, labour-standards declarations and (where material) basic emissions data — supporting partner value-chain disclosures.
  2. Evidence & data
    • Indicator dictionary aligned to GRI linkages with BRSR and cross-references to ISSB topics when relevant.
    • Consent and privacy protocols; GPS-tagged service points where appropriate; tamper-evident records for audits.
  3. Programme controls
    • SOPs for service delivery (e.g., health camps, mobile clinics, community sessions) with compliance logs.
    • Field monitoring with randomised back-checks and grievance hotlines.
  4. Reporting & Interoperability
    • Quarterly partner reports that roll up to CSR-2 needs, with assurance binders (raw extracts, enumerator rosters, QA notes).
    • Optional SSE-style reporting cadence for high-visibility projects.
  5. Risk & Resilience
    • Climate-aware site planning (shade, ventilation, flood-safe storage) to align with the finance sector’s evolving risk lens.
  6. Learning & Improvement
    • Beneficiary feedback loops; adaptive management; and annual learning reviews published for transparency.

Even when the Foundation’s field stories are compelling, this architecture is what allows a CFO, CSO or Audit Committee to sign off with confidence.

A word about “greenwashing” and narrative discipline

ESG’s critics often point to compliance fatigue and inflated claims. The antidote isn’t more slogans; it’s narrow, material and assured reporting. Europe’s CSRD debate shows both the costs and the opportunity of standardised sustainability disclosures; India’s own recalibration via SEBI reflects a similar realism. NGOs that keep their indicator sets tight, auditable and interoperable will win trust — and funding — faster.

Why this matters now

Three forces are converging:

  1. Global baselines (ISSB) and regional mandates (CSRD) demand consistent, investor-grade data.
  2. Indian disclosures (BRSR Core, value-chain) increasingly require assured data from outside the company’s four walls—where NGOs operate.
  3. Financial sector nudges (RBI climate risk) will push lenders to prefer projects and partners with credible risk and impact data.

Smile Foundation’s edge is its ability to translate last-mile service delivery into board-ready evidence which the connective tissue that helps a company satisfy regulators, inform investors and earn community trust.

The road ahead for ESG in India

The ESG conversation is moving from promises to proof. Global standards are converging; India is localising with BRSR Core and strengthening its assurance spine; the RBI is bringing climate risk into finance. In this landscape, the most valuable thing an NGO can offer is decision-useful, assured data — not just moving stories but measurable outcomes that a board can stand behind.

Smile Foundation’s on-the-ground programmes are necessary but the ESG infrastructure behind them is what makes those programmes investable, reportable and scalable. For policymakers, that’s a reason to back shared measurement systems and assurance capacity. For CSR partners, it’s a reason to demand quality and co-create it.

If ESG is the plumbing of trust, then good data is the water that runs through it. Build the pipes right, and the impact flows.

Sources & further reading

Categories
Smile

Doing Better With Less: The Power of Frugal Innovation

In India, public spending on health and education is often stretched thin. Demands are high, resources are scarce, and yet the need for last-mile solutions has never been greater. How do you reach a remote hamlet in Arunachal Pradesh with health services? How do you bring digital classrooms to children in villages where electricity is erratic? The answer, increasingly, lies in frugal innovation — the art of creating scalable, impactful solutions by making the most of what we already have.

Far from being a second-best approach, frugal innovation is about smart design, community trust and radical efficiency. It is also at the heart of Smile Foundation’s journey.

Frugal innovation: From concept to practice

Globally, frugal innovation has come to mean “doing more with less” — not as austerity, but as creativity. In France, abandoned industrial wastelands are being repurposed into new factories. In Boston, underused spaces are densified into modular housing. In India, the Digital Public Infrastructure stack (Aadhaar, UPI, DigiLocker) has become a frugal backbone, enabling secure, low-cost services for 1.4 billion people.

The lesson is that innovation doesn’t always mean cutting-edge labs. It often means rearranging existing resources for maximum value.

Smile Foundation embodies this in its approach — whether through mobile medical vans that double as rural clinics, solar-powered digital classrooms or training frontline health workers with simple yet powerful tools.

Exploiting what already exists

Instead of waiting for perfect infrastructure, Smile Foundation asks: what is already here that can be leveraged?

  • Smile on Wheels: In villages where building a hospital is unfeasible, Smile deploys mobile health vans staffed with doctors and nurses. One van covers multiple villages, offering preventive and primary care to thousands. The resource is modest, but its value is multiplied through rotation, efficiency and trust.
  • E-Arogya Clinics: Small kiosks, sometimes as simple as retrofitted shipping containers, are equipped with diagnostic kits and telemedicine. By reusing affordable spaces and digital platforms, healthcare reaches underserved communities without the costs of full-scale facilities.
  • School Upgrades: Rather than wait for state budgets to trickle in, existing government schools are supported with supplementary classrooms, smart boards or even trained para-teachers. Small additions, but with outsized impact.

This is frugal innovation valorising the underutilised.

Not reinventing the wheel

Smile Foundation does not chase shiny, siloed solutions. Instead, it builds on platforms and systems already in place.

  • Leveraging India’s DPI: Scholarship disbursements, nutritional allowances and training stipends use direct benefit transfer channels. This reduces leakage, lowers costs and builds trust with communities.
  • EdTech Partnerships: Instead of custom-building expensive apps, Smile collaborates with established providers, adapting content into local languages and making it device-friendly.
  • Community Health Networks: By working with ASHAs and Anganwadi workers — already embedded in communities — Smile strengthens existing human capital instead of creating parallel systems.

The approach is modular, like Lego blocks: combine existing elements, adapt and scale quickly.

Anticipating needs, not just reacting

Frugal innovation is about prevention and foresight.

  • Nutrition Enhancement with PepsiCo Foundation: Kitchen gardens are set up in villages, giving families sustainable access to vegetables and helping prevent malnutrition before it sets in.
  • Digital Classrooms: Training children in digital literacy isn’t just about today’s exams. It prepares them for tomorrow’s job market where 85% of jobs in 2030 may not yet exist.
  • Disaster Response: Smile Foundation doesn’t only send relief kits after floods in Assam or Himachal Pradesh. It also helps communities prepare with hygiene awareness, resilient learning spaces and healthcare continuity.

As Benjamin Franklin said, “an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.” In Smile’s work, prevention is often low-cost, high-impact — the essence of frugality.

Case Studies of frugality: Smile’s work

1. Pink Smile, Uttar Pradesh

A mobile unit equipped for anaemia screening reached 4,000 women and children in Mathura. Cost: a fraction of building permanent centres. Impact: reduced anaemia, better maternal health and healthier children.

2. Solar-Powered Anganwadis, Maharashtra

Thirteen Anganwadis were upgraded with solar panels, water filters and basic furniture. For the price of one urban health centre, thousands of children gained safe, sustainable spaces for nutrition and early education.

3. Mission Education, Across 26 States

Grouping children by learning levels instead of grades sounds simple — but it’s frugal pedagogy in action. Minimal costs, but it maximises learning outcomes by meeting children where they are.

Why frugality matters for CSR and policymakers

Frugal innovation isn’t just “NGO pragmatism.” It is a serious economic argument:

  • High ROI: Like community health workers worldwide, every rupee invested yields multiple rupees in productivity and avoided costs.
  • Scalability: Because frugal solutions use modular designs, they can be replicated across states quickly.
  • Alignment with ESG: Frugality builds resilience, maximises social outcomes and ensures governance through transparency. For companies mapping CSR to ESG, this is low-cost, high-trust impact.

Smile Foundation offers CSR partners frugal models that deliver results at scale.

The larger narrative: Dignity in simplicity

Frugal innovation isn’t about “cheap fixes.” It’s about dignity in design — ensuring communities get services that are affordable, accessible and aspirational. A mobile clinic isn’t second-best to a hospital if it delivers care with respect. A solar classroom isn’t a shortcut — it’s an innovation that works with India’s realities.

As India pushes toward becoming a $5 trillion economy, its development story will be judged not only by glittering urban projects, but also by how frugally and effectively we reach its most remote citizens.

Frugal is the Future

Frugality is often misunderstood as scarcity thinking. In reality, it is abundance thinking: unlocking the full value of what we already have. Governments, CSR partners, and non-profits that embrace frugal innovation will not only stretch their budgets but also deepen their impact.

Smile Foundation’s journey shows that small is scalable, simple is powerful and frugal is the future of social impact in India.

Categories
In The Spotlight

Creativity as Social Infrastructure

Development conversations in India usually revolve around numbers. Literacy rates, immunisation coverage, GDP growth, CSR spend, dropout percentages. The debate is framed in metrics and targets — vital, but often incomplete. What gets left out is the intangible: trust, dignity, imagination. These are not always measurable in neat columns, yet they are often the very things that determine whether a programme succeeds or falters.

This is where creativity enters the story. Not as a garnish, not as “soft skills,” but as social infrastructure that binds communities, accelerates learning and humanises public health. Over the past two decades, Smile Foundation has quietly embedded creativity in its education, health and livelihood initiatives. The result is interventions that don’t just deliver services, but transform how communities experience them.

In a world grappling with resource constraints, rising inequalities and fraying social ties, creativity may be the most overlooked yet powerful lever we have.

Why creativity belongs in development

Around the world, policymakers are waking up to the role of creativity in social systems. The World Health Organization, after analysing more than 900 studies, concluded that engagement in arts and creative practices improves both physical and mental health outcomes. UNESCO has placed “cultural participation” within the framework of sustainable development. And in the US, the Surgeon General has declared loneliness a public health crisis, with creative community activities emerging as a key antidote.

Why does this matter for India? Because our development challenges are not only about access to schools, hospitals or jobs. They are about ensuring that these structures are trusted, embraced and sustained by communities.

Creativity is the bridge. It turns a vaccination drive into a song that resonates in local dialect. It transforms a nutrition lesson into a cooking demo mothers can replicate at home. It converts rote classrooms into spaces where children sing, draw and imagine futures beyond their immediate constraints.

Without creativity, development risks becoming transactional. With it, development becomes transformational.

Education: When learning turns joyful

India’s education system is haunted by what the World Bank calls “learning poverty”— the inability of children to read a simple sentence by age 10. ASER 2022 revealed that only 20.5% of Grade 3 children in rural India could read a Grade 2 text. The crisis is not only about enrolment; it is about engagement.

Smile Foundation’s Mission Education programme offers an alternative lens. Here, creativity is not an extracurricular; it is central to pedagogy.

  • Storytelling as pedagogy: Mathematics lessons are woven into folk tales. Children solve subtraction through a story about goats crossing a bridge.
  • Theatre as confidence: Children too shy to answer questions in class often thrive when given roles in short plays.
  • Art as literacy: Drawing and visual storytelling allow children to grasp concepts before they master abstract alphabets.

Research backs this approach. A 2020 UNICEF report on playful learning shows higher retention rates among first-generation learners exposed to creative teaching methods. The OECD’s “Education 2030” framework identifies creativity as a core competency for future-ready citizens.

The lived experience at Smile centres echoes this. Teachers report that attendance spikes on days with music and theatre sessions. Parents notice children bringing songs and stories home, spreading learning beyond classrooms. For children at risk of dropping out, creativity is often the difference between disengagement and discovery.

Health: Stories that heal

Public health in India is filled with gaps: maternal mortality rates, malnutrition, vaccine hesitancy. Government schemes are ambitious, but uptake is uneven, especially in marginalised communities. Why? Because information alone does not change behaviour. Trust does.

Smile Foundation’s Health Cannot Wait initiative demonstrates how creativity builds that trust.

  • In Uttar Pradesh, local women staged street plays explaining the benefits of institutional deliveries. Mothers who once resisted hospital births began to reconsider.
  • In Rajasthan, puppet shows broke down myths around child nutrition. The laughter of children often convinced parents more effectively than printed leaflets.
  • In Delhi’s slums, murals and wall art promoted hygiene and menstrual awareness in ways that text-heavy campaigns never could.

WHO studies show that culturally resonant creative methods produce higher health adoption rates than generic campaigns. During COVID-19, ASHA workers across India used songs and rhymes in local dialects to demystify vaccines — an approach that reduced hesitancy faster than top-down directives.

By embedding creativity into health outreach, Smile ensures that communities internalise the information passed onto them.

Livelihoods: Creativity as enterprise

India’s demographic dividend risks becoming a demographic disaster if youth lack meaningful livelihoods. Traditional skill training — tailoring, plumbing, mechanics—has value, but creativity adds resilience and adaptability.

Smile Foundation’s livelihood programmes integrate creativity into training:

  • Digital storytelling: Young people from low-resource backgrounds learn photography and media production, then use these skills for community campaigns and freelance work.
  • Craft revival: Women artisans in Odisha adapt traditional embroidery for digital platforms, connecting local heritage to e-commerce markets.
  • Entrepreneurial imagination: Youth are encouraged not only to seek jobs but to innovate — launching micro-businesses that blend traditional crafts with modern demand.

Globally, the “orange economy” — the creative economy — already contributes over $2 trillion annually. UNESCO notes its potential for inclusive growth, especially in emerging economies. Smile’s work illustrates how creative skill-building does more than provide income; it nurtures agency, pride and sustainability.

Disasters: Creativity as recovery

When floods sweep through Assam or earthquakes disrupt Himachal, relief often focuses on food, shelter and medicine. But once basic survival is secured, trauma lingers — especially for children.

Smile Foundation recognises this, integrating creative spaces into relief camps.

  • Art corners allow children to draw their fears and hopes. Psychologists note that such expression is vital for trauma processing.
  • Story circles give communities a space to narrate their experiences, building resilience through collective memory.
  • Music sessions restore a sense of normalcy, turning camps from sites of despair into spaces of hope.

In disasters, creativity is not entertainment. It is therapy, recovery and resilience.

Creativity as dignity

Perhaps the most profound role of creativity is its ability to restore dignity. Development often risks reducing people to data points: enrolments, vaccinations, beneficiaries. Creativity restores personhood.

When a girl paints her dream of becoming a doctor, she is asserting that her identity is larger than her circumstances.
When women act in a play about domestic violence, they declare their agency.
When youth document their communities through photography, they reclaim narrative power.

This dignity is not peripheral but central. True development is not just about distributing services. It is about enabling people to see themselves as creators of their own futures.

Lessons for policymakers and CSR leaders

For policymakers and corporate CSR leaders, the question is: why prioritise creativity in resource-constrained environments?

Because creativity is a multiplier.

  1. Cost-effective: Puppet shows, songs and murals often cost less than glossy ad campaigns but deliver more impact.
  2. Scalable: Stories and songs adapt across geographies faster than rigid program templates.
  3. Sustainable: When communities co-create, initiatives last beyond external funding.
  4. Equitable: Creative methods respect local culture, ensuring solutions are inclusive rather than imposed.

If India is serious about achieving its Sustainable Development Goals — quality education, good health, gender equity and more — creativity must be treated as essential infrastructure.

Smile Foundation’s creative edge

Over 20 years, Smile has demonstrated how creativity can be systematically embedded:

  • She Can Fly harnessed aspirational storytelling to galvanise support for girls’ education.
  • Shiksha Na Ruke leveraged digital storytelling during COVID to keep children engaged when schools were closed.
  • Nutrition Enhancement Programme turned health education into participatory cooking events.
  • Smile on Wheels used posters, songs and interactive games to make mobile clinics more welcoming.

Across programmes, creativity is not a side activity. It is the very reason programmes connect with people.

Global lessons, local action

India is not alone. Across the world, creativity is shaping social outcomes:

  • Rwanda’s Bandebereho programme uses role-play to shift gender norms around caregiving.
  • Brazil’s community theatre projects reduce domestic violence by opening dialogue.
  • Kenya’s art-based sanitation campaigns improved toilet usage in informal settlements.

Smile Foundation is part of this global movement, showing how creativity can anchor India’s development journey in trust, resilience and dignity.

Reimagining Development

The Indian state and its CSR ecosystem invest billions in schools, hospitals and infrastructure. These are vital. But without creativity, they often fail to reach hearts and minds.

Creativity is not ornamental. It is infrastructural. It transforms programmes from transactional to transformational. It shifts narratives from “service delivery” to “human dignity.”

Smile Foundation’s work reminds us that development is not just about roads and policies. It is about stories, songs and spaces where communities imagine better futures together.

If India wants to build a future that is not only prosperous but inclusive, it must recognise creativity as social infrastructure. Because without imagination, there is no sustainable change.

Categories
Livelihood

Hands-On Skills Every Trainee Gains from Industry Interaction

On a humid morning in Gurugram, Priya steps nervously onto the floor of a buzzing retail outlet. She has been training for weeks in Smile Foundation’s vocational centre — learning everything from basic English phrases to the fundamentals of customer service — but today is different. Today she is no longer just a student; she is standing behind an actual counter, shadowing an employee who handles twenty customers an hour without breaking a sweat. Priya watches closely: how he greets, how he scans a barcode, how he deals with a mildly irritated customer who insists that the discount isn’t showing up.

By the end of the day, she has scanned items herself, printed receipts, even attempted a polite upsell. Her hands tremble at first, but by the fifth customer, something clicks. What had seemed abstract in the classroom—“customer interaction,” “transaction accuracy,” “conflict resolution”—suddenly becomes muscle memory. When her trainer later asks what she learned, Priya laughs: “The book said five steps to handle complaints. I forgot them. But I remembered to listen first. That worked.”

This is the quiet revolution of industry interaction where training steps out of the four walls of a classroom and meets the messy, fast, exhilarating world of work. It is where theory bends to reality, where confidence is forged and where employability becomes tangible.

Why industry exposure is not a luxury but a necessity

India is a country of young people. Every month, over a million Indians join the working-age population. But employability remains a stubborn problem. Studies repeatedly show that while many youth have degrees or diplomas, fewer than half are “job-ready” by employer standards. The gap is not always knowledge — it is the ability to apply knowledge under real-world pressures: noise, deadlines, customers, systems, accountability.

Smile Foundation’s skilling programme was built with this gap in mind. Its philosophy is simple: exposure beats rote learning. Every trainee is encouraged to touch, feel and practice the rhythms of industry — whether in a warehouse, a clinic, a hotel kitchen, a call centre or a retail floor.

Why? Because workplaces are living classrooms. And just as doctors learn best in hospitals, future service workers, technicians or entrepreneurs learn best when immersed in actual environments of work.

The skill stack you don’t see in textbooks

Ask any employer and they’ll tell you: the first 90 days decide whether a fresher thrives or struggles. A candidate with theoretical knowledge but no exposure needs weeks of handholding. But one who has shadowed, practiced and made mistakes in real settings is productive almost from day one.

So, what exactly do trainees like Priya or Arjun (a healthcare trainee) gain when industry becomes their teacher? Let’s walk through it — narratively, not as a checklist.

1. Technical literacy becomes second nature

In a hospital ward, Arjun learns how to measure blood pressure. In the classroom, the sphygmomanometer looked like a complicated gadget. In the ward, guided by a nurse, he learns to wrap it snugly around a patient’s arm, to place the stethoscope just so, to listen carefully for the whoosh of blood flow. The first time he tries, he gets it wrong. The nurse smiles and says, “Again.” By the third attempt, he nails it.

That moment — when a skill shifts from anxiety to ease — is the essence of technical training. Whether it’s a multimeter in an electrical lab, a barcode scanner in a warehouse or a hotel’s reservation software, only practice in real conditions can demystify the tool.

2. Process discipline comes alive

Walk into a factory floor and you’ll see why processes exist. The yellow lines on the ground, the checklists taped to machines, the silence when a “defect” is spotted. Trainees often confess they never understood why teachers spoke so much about discipline — until they saw how one missed step could mean rework, loss or even danger.

For Arjun, it was the hand hygiene routine. “Wash for 20 seconds, dry with disposable tissue, sanitise before touching another patient.” It seemed tedious — until a nurse told him a single lapse could transmit infection. Suddenly, the ritual wasn’t about following rules; it was about protecting lives.

3. Safety becomes instinct

At a construction site, a trainer points to a trainee climbing a ladder without fastening his helmet. Work halts. Everyone watches as he’s corrected. It’s a lesson no PowerPoint slide could drive home. Safety, the trainees realise, isn’t theoretical — it’s survival, reputation, liability.

This is true across sectors. In hospitality, handling knives or boiling oil. In logistics, lifting heavy loads without injury. In healthcare, wearing gloves while handling blood samples. Industry exposure turns safety into instinct — something you do before you even think.

4. Quality is no longer abstract

In a retail store, Priya discovers the magic of “first-time-right.” She scans a product, but the discount doesn’t apply. She apologises, rechecks and corrects it. The customer nods, satisfied. Her trainer later explains: “A small error can mean a lost customer. Accuracy is respect.”

That’s the quality mindset: not perfection for its own sake, but precision because real people depend on it.

5. Communication adapts to context

Perhaps the most underrated skill trainees pick up is practical communication. At an Anganwadi centre, a health trainee realises mothers don’t understand technical jargon. “Nutritional deficiency” makes no sense. But “Halka khana, rozana doodh aur ande” (light meals, daily milk and eggs) clicks immediately.

In a call centre, another trainee learns the opposite: being precise, using scripts, logging details in the system. Same skill — adapted to audience.

6. Confidence under pressure

The magic moment comes when trainees face real customers or patients. They stumble, sweat, recover and succeed. Each interaction is a mini-apprenticeship in handling pressure. The confidence it breeds cannot be taught — it must be lived.

The invisible curriculum: Habits and attitudes during industry exposure

What makes industry exposure transformative isn’t just technical learning. It’s the invisible curriculum trainees absorb:

  • Punctuality. Workplaces run on time, not on excuses.
  • Team spirit. Everyone’s job is interconnected; you don’t leave until the next person is briefed.
  • Accountability. Mistakes have consequences but so does honesty and fixing them.
  • Resilience. A tough customer, a long shift, a rude supervisor — bounce back, don’t break.

Employers often say these “soft” skills matter more than technical ones. Smile Foundation’s trainers, therefore, see industry visits as not just about skills, but about shaping professional identity.

Stories from the ground: When theory met reality

  • Ritu, hospitality trainee: “I had memorised how to fold napkins in class. But in the hotel banquet hall, with 200 chairs to set before a wedding, I learned speed and teamwork matter as much as technique.”
  • Faizan, retail trainee: “In class, we practiced customer greetings. But on the shop floor, I realised body language is half the greeting. The trainer taught me to stand tall, smile and look at the customer — not the screen.”
  • Meena, healthcare trainee: “I learned about empathy in class. But it became real when I held the hand of an anxious patient before a blood test. Sometimes care is touch, not words.”

Why industry exposure matters for employers

Employers benefit too. When trainees arrive with exposure, they require less handholding, adapt faster and reduce errors in the probation phase. Industry partners often remark that Smile Foundation trainees feel “workplace-ready” in weeks, not months.

This alignment also strengthens CSR linkages. Corporate partners see skilling as talent pipeline building — a strategic investment in future workers.

The policy angle: Why India must scale industry exposure

India’s skilling ecosystem is vast — multiple government schemes, private training providers and CSR initiatives. Yet one critique recurs: the employability gap. Reports by bodies like NASSCOM and McKinsey highlight how theoretical training often fails to translate into workplace readiness.

The National Skill Development Corporation (NSDC) has been pushing for more apprenticeships, internships and industry partnerships. Smile Foundation’s model complements this vision — proving that even short, structured exposures can dramatically improve outcomes.

Beyond jobs: Industry exposure as dignity

There’s a deeper layer too. For many trainees from marginalised backgrounds, stepping into an office tower, a hotel lobby or a hospital ward is transformative. It’s not just about learning skills — it’s about belonging.

When Priya tells her parents she worked a full shift at a retail store, they beam. For the first time, they can picture her in a professional role. That sense of dignity of seeing oneself as part of India’s modern economy is as important as the pay check.

Smile Foundation difference

Smile Foundation’s skilling programme integrates industry interaction not as an add-on, but as a core pedagogy. Partnerships with companies in retail, hospitality, healthcare, IT/ITeS and logistics ensure that trainees move fluidly between classroom drills and workplace immersion.

  • Exposure visits turn theory into observation.
  • Guest lectures bring role models into the classroom.
  • Job shadowing lets trainees watch, then try.
  • Internships embed learning in real workflows.

The result is higher placement rates, lower attrition and more confident youth.

The way forward

India’s demographic dividend is often described as an opportunity or a ticking time bomb. Which way it tilts depends on whether millions of young people like Priya and Arjun find meaningful, dignified and sustainable work. Classrooms are necessary, but they are not sufficient. The bridge between aspiration and employment is industry interaction—structured, mentored, reflective and scaled.

As one employer put it: “A trainee who has spent even a week on my shop floor is worth three months of classroom learning.”

From exposure to empowerment

When we talk about “hands-on skills,” we are really talking about hands-on lives. The skill to greet a customer confidently, to handle a tool safely, to log data correctly, to calm a nervous patient — they are pathways to dignity, growth and independence.

Smile Foundation’s skilling programme shows that with the right blend of classroom teaching and industry immersion, India’s youth are fully trained.

And in that transformation lies the promise of an employable, empowered and equitable future.

Categories
Education

What India Really Spends on Schooling

On paper, school is free for most Indian children. In real life, families pay—often a lot. Fees (even in government schools in some places), uniforms, transport, textbooks, coaching: the small bills add up to a big barrier. When the national statistics office released its latest education-spending snapshot this August, it confirmed what parents already feel in their wallets and what many non-profits see in the field: the cost of schooling is rising, urban families pay more than rural households, private coaching is mainstream — and boys typically attract more spending than girls.

This matters because behind every rupee lies a choice. When a household decides which child gets a private school seat, who gets coaching, whether to buy the reference book or take the bus to school, it is making an investment judgment about a child’s future. If those judgments consistently favour boys — and the data suggest they often do — we shouldn’t be surprised when learning gaps and labour-market gaps persist years later.

The question, then, is not just how much India spends on school education, but who it spends on, what it spends on and whether that spending translates into learning. Put differently: How do we make every rupee count — for girls, for poor households and for the students most at risk of falling behind?

This essay is a field-level view of India’s school spending in 2025 and a practical playbook for making it work better. It draws on the Government of India’s Comprehensive Modular Survey: Education (CMS:E) 2025, the Annual Status of Education Report (ASER 2022), the government’s foundational literacy and numeracy mission (NIPUN Bharat), UDISE+ updates and frontline experience from educators and implementers—including Smile Foundation.

The bill for “free” education

The new CMS:E survey (April–June 2025) set out to answer a basic question: what do households actually spend on a child’s schooling in the current academic year? It deliberately separated schooling costs from private coaching costs (unlike earlier rounds) and it broke spending into realistic buckets — course fees, transport, uniforms, textbooks/stationery and “other.” Three patterns stand out.

  1. Government schools dominate enrolment but families still pay.
    Government schools account for 55.9% of enrolments country-wide (about two-thirds in rural India). And while most children in government schools don’t pay course fees, a full 26.7% do — and that share rises to 25.3% in rural areas. In non-government schools, the near-universal expectation is payment: 95.7% of students report course-fee outgo.
  2. The per-student cost to families varies massively by school type and location.
    Average household spending per student in government schools is ₹2,863, compared with ₹25,002 in non-government schools (rural + urban combined). Urban households spend more than rural households across every line item — fees, transport, uniforms and books. Course fees are the single biggest item, averaging ₹7,111 across India (urban ~₹15,143; rural ~₹3,979).
  3. Private coaching is no longer niche.
    27% of all currently enrolled students took (or are taking) private coaching this year — more in urban areas (30.7%) than rural (25.5%). At higher secondary, urban families spend nearly ₹9,950 a year on coaching versus ₹4,548 in rural India.

These are national averages; states differ widely. Early media analyses of the CMS:E point to higher total spends in states like Haryana and Manipur with Bihar on the lower end — reminding us that affordability and access are intensely local. And the top line gender story is sobering: families spend more on boys than girls, with boys more likely to be in private schools and in private coaching.

A final, crucial footnote: 95% of school-education spending comes from the family itself; government scholarships show up as the primary funding source in just 1.2% of cases. For the median Indian household, the school bill is personal and nontrivial.

Do higher outlays buy better learning? Not necessarily.

The uncomfortable truth is that spending is not the same as learning. India’s rural learning levels took a clear hit after COVID-19 disruptions. ASER 2022 found that just 20.5% of Grade-3 children in rural India could read a Grade-2 text — evidence of widespread “learning poverty.” A drop in basic arithmetic mirrored the reading slide. If more rupees automatically delivered outcomes, we wouldn’t see this picture.

The government’s answer is NIPUN Bharat — a national mission to ensure every child acquires foundational literacy and numeracy (FLN) by 2026–27 (end-Grade 3, or Grade 5 at the latest). The emphasis is on simple but powerful ideas: teach at the right level, mother-tongue based instruction in early years, hands-on learning, frequent low-stakes assessments and teacher support. The core insight is also financial: the cheapest remediation is the early remediation because every year a child falls behind, costs compound for families and the system alike.

The good news is that the current administrative data point to improving retention and lower dropouts, including in difficult transition grades. UDISE+ updates for 2024–25 highlight declining dropout rates at the preparatory, middle and secondary stages compared with recent years. But within the averages lie hard-to-reach districts and pockets where girls, tribal children and first-generation learners remain at greater risk.

Bottom line: Money matters—especially for transport, coaching and the “hidden” costs of school. But learning gains hinge on how we spend and what we do in classrooms and communities.

Where families bleed and how to plug the leak

If you trace the line items from the CMS:E tables to field realities, five drains explain why schooling feels expensive even in “free” systems:

(1) Transport
For secondary school, the nearest viable option is often several kilometres away. Daily mobility — especially for girls — requires safe, affordable transport. CMS:E shows urban transport outlays far exceed rural spends, but in rural blocks with scattered habitations, simply getting to school is the barrier.

(2) Coaching
Coaching fills perceived gaps — test prep, board exams, competitive entry. It also widens inequality when only some can pay. The survey’s 27% coaching uptake is an all-India average; in many towns it’s much higher at secondary levels.

(3) Fee “exceptions”
Even where fees are officially minimal, parents report paying for “development funds,” “activity charges” or periodic collections — especially in low-fee private schools.

(4) Learning materials and uniforms
Where textbook supply chains slip or where multiple “guide” books are encouraged, household costs rise.

(5) Lost time
What the tables don’t price: hours spent navigating admissions, collecting scholarships or chasing transfers — costs that hit casual labour households hardest.

The policy fixes are not mysterious: reliable school transport for girls, predictable and timely textbook/uniform provision, transparent fee regulation and better in-school teaching so families don’t feel compelled to pay for coaching. India has many of these ideas on paper; the bottleneck is execution.

What does gender have to do with it?

A lot. The most striking finding in the new education-spend data is the gender gap in household outlays: boys see higher average spend than girls, in both rural and urban settings and across school types. More boys are enrolled in private schools and more boys attend coaching. When money is tight, a household might rationalise: “Let the boy take the bus; the girl can study at home.” Repeat that logic in millions of homes and you get the macro picture we see today.

But there’s another, less discussed piece that girls’ learning levels recover faster when schools and communities invest in FLN and safe access. The returns to girls’ education are well documented — delayed marriage, lower fertility, better child health — but even at the micro level, when a Grade-3 girl moves from “can’t decode a sentence” to “can read a short paragraph unaided,” everything changes: her confidence, attendance and willingness to persist through Grade 10. That’s precisely why the focus on NIPUN Bharat is not “soft” — it’s hard economics. Early skills lower the need for expensive late-stage fixes (remedial coaching, re-enrolment drives) and raise the return on every rupee families spend.

Making rupees work harder: Five levers that align with what Smile Foundation does on the ground

Smile Foundation operates where budgets are to be utilised efficiently and choices are hard. The approach has increasingly converged on a simple rule: move early, move locally, move with families. Here are five spending-smart levers — policy + practice — that track closely with what organisations like Smile implement.

1) Fix the foundation (FLN), not just the façade

If a Grade-3 child can’t read a Grade-2 text, the entire edifice wobbles. ASER 2022’s reading shock underscored that we can’t coach our way out of foundational gaps. Smile Foundation’s learning centres and school support programmes tilt resources to early-grade reading and numeracy — teacher mentoring, small-group instruction by level, multilingual material, and continuous low-stakes assessments. Every percentage point of improvement at Grade 2–3 reduces downstream family spending on emergency coaching at Grade 9–10. This is the cheapest way to improve board-exam pass rates five years later.

Policy fit: NIPUN Bharat’s 2026–27 target makes this the system’s top priority; CSR and philanthropy should follow suit — fund early-grade teacher support and community-based reading camps before flashy test-prep grants.

2) De-risk the daily commute — especially for girls

A scholarship that pays for exam fees but ignores transport is a leaky subsidy. In many districts, bike grants, bus passes or pooled vans are the single most cost-effective way to raise girls’ attendance and reduce drop-outs. Smile’s community mobilisers often solve attendance problems by negotiating transport — sometimes as basic as mapping safe walking groups and arranging parent volunteers for the last mile.

Policy fit: State schemes that underwrite secondary-school transport for girls pay for themselves through higher retention (and lower early marriage). CMS:E’s line items show families already spend real money on transport; smart programmes co-pay that spend rather than duplicating it.

3) Replace after-hours coaching with in-school mastery time

Coaching will not disappear but it can shrink if school time is used for catch-up and mastery. Structured “practice hours” before or after school, run by trained community educators and teachers together, have shown results in multiple states at low cost. Smile Foundation leans on volunteer tutors, alumni and mothers’ groups to run reading circles and math clubs — free substitutes for paid coaching.

Policy fit: Schools that hit NIPUN benchmarks should get small, flexible grants for mastery periods; CSR partners can underwrite community tutors and basic learning aids that lower families’ coaching expenditures.

4) Put scholarships where they change behaviour

CMS:E shows just 1.2% of students report government scholarships as their first funding source. That is strikingly low. Part of the problem is friction — forms, bank links, proof documents; part is design — benefits that don’t target the biggest barriers. The empirical case is strong for girls-only, Grade-to-Grade persistence scholarships, transport stipends and device/data vouchers tied to attendance and FLN milestones. Smile’s own scholarship models increasingly “bundle” mentorship + counselling + cash so money translates into attendance — and attendance into learning.

Policy fit: Shift from generic fee reimbursements to barrier-aligned micro-scholarships that tackle transport, devices or exam fees at exactly the point families face the cost.

5) Make parents partners

Households finance 95% of school spending and make the hard calls; they must be in the loop. Parent workshops that demystify the syllabus, homework routines and exam timelines cost little and save a lot. In Smile-supported geographies, simple tactics — home-learning kits, attendance nudges via WhatsApp and parent–teacher circles — raise study time at home, reducing later coaching dependence.

What about the system side? Where the state can tilt the field

None of the above absolves the system from doing the heavy lifting. Four system-level moves will stretch household rupees and public budgets alike:

A. Lock in FLN as a non-negotiable K-3 outcome.
Keep measuring what matters — decoding, fluency, number sense — and give teachers practical coaching, not just trainings. The best money in education is spent on teacher support tied to in-class practice, not one-off workshops.

B. Predictable textbooks and uniforms.
CMS:E shows textbooks/stationery and uniforms are the second and third largest expenses after fees. When the supply chain is timely, families trust the public system and are less likely to jump to low-fee private schools simply for predictability.

C. Transparent fee rules and enforcement.
Clarity on what can be charged, when and by how much reduces the nickel-and-diming that alienates parents. Where self-financed schools are part of the landscape, fee-transparency dashboards and grievance redress protect families.

D. Target the transition years.
UDISE+ data show improvements, but the hardest grades remain VIII→IX and X→XI, when distances grow and exams bite. A mix of bridge courses, counselling, transport support and career exposure can keep students on track and make every preceding rupee spent worthwhile.

A note on caution and comparability

The CMS:E press note is admirably clear about its limits: it is designed for national-level estimates in the current academic year; state-level cuts require care; and the results aren’t directly comparable with 2017–18 NSS education rounds because the 2025 survey separated coaching from schooling costs and re-classified pre-primary. Treat it as a sharp snapshot, not a trend line.

That said, triangulation with UDISE+ and ASER gives a coherent picture: families pay substantial out-of-pocket costs; learning at the foundation needs urgent attention; dropouts are improving overall but remain fragile where distances and language barriers loom.

Where Smile Foundation fits: Stretching the household rupee

It’s tempting to think of a non-profit as a scholarship engine. But Smile Foundation’s field learning points to a different North Star: reduce the reasons families feel they must spend. A scholarship helps one bill; a stronger elementary experience lowers many bills for years.

Across its Mission Educationhttps://www.smilefoundationindia.org/education/ and allied programmes, Smile focuses on:

  • Early-grade mastery (reading and number sense) that prevents costly remediation later.
  • Mother-tongue, activity-based classrooms that keep first-generation learners engaged and reduce reliance on coaching.
  • Teacher mentoring inside classrooms because the best “ed-tech” is a confident teacher with the right routines.
  • Parent engagement that turns households from passive payers into active learning partners.
  • Barrier-aligned micro-support (transport, exam fees, devices) to keep girls in school through transition grades.
  • Career exposure and skilling bridges (for older students) so families see the return on schooling and persist through secondary.

Each of these levers is low-cost, scalable and — crucially — evidence-aligned with the way India’s education rupees actually flow.

The equity case: Spend where it bends the curve

If boys attract more spending, then public and CSR rupees must tilt to girls as return-maximising investments. Three principles help:

  1. Pay for the barrier, not the label.
    In a district where distance is the killer, transport stipends for girls will outperform generic fee scholarships. Where language is the barrier, fund bilingual FLN materials and classroom assistants.
  2. Front-load money.
    ₹1 spent in Grade 2 is worth ₹10 in Grade 10. Put cash, coaching and materials early.
  3. Make funding visible to families.
    When parents see their daughter decode a paragraph, commute safely and pass board exams, their own spending follows on books, on continued schooling, on aspirations.

The real “ROI” of school spending

Economists debate rates of return; families care about something simpler: Does my child learn? Does she stay in school? Does he get a fair shot at a job or higher study? By those measures, India’s education rupees will work hardest when three links strengthen together:

  • Access (you can get to school),
  • Learning (you make real progress there) and
  • Momentum (you keep going through the tough transitions).

Data can tell us where the money goes. Only practice — in schools, households and communities — can tell us how to make it go further.

If the CMS:E survey is a mirror, the reflection is clear: families are carrying the system. Let’s carry them back by investing where their burden is heaviest and where each rupee has the biggest multiplier: early learning, safe access, transparent costs and targeted support that keeps girls and first-generation learners in the game.

That is the surest path to making “free” education feel free again.

Sources (select)

  • MoSPI (NSO) Press Note: Results of Comprehensive Modular Survey: Education, 2025 (April–June, 2025)—key tables on enrolment by school type; share paying course fees; per-student spending by school type and item; private coaching prevalence; funding sources; comparability caveats.
  • Times of India summary of CMS:E gender gap in household education spending (boys higher than girls; with rural–urban splits and coaching differentials). (The Times of India)
  • Careers360 recap of CMS:E boys’ greater presence in private schools/coaching and higher per-student spending. (Careers360)
  • ThePrint on state-level expenditure contrasts (highest vs. lowest). (ThePrint)
  • ASER 2022 national findings on foundational learning (Grade-3 reading at 20.5% in rural India). (ASER Centre)
  • NIPUN Bharat / NEP 2020 goal: universal FLN by 2026–27. (Press Information Bureau, Department of School Education)
  • UDISE+ 2024–25 press updates on reduced dropouts and better retention (national). (Press Information Bureau, www.ndtv.com)
Categories
Women Empowerment

Where Do Women Stand in India?

Where do women stand in India’s social and political landscape today? The answer is a story of both inspiring progress and ongoing struggle. For generations, Indian women have fought to claim their space in society – from legendary freedom fighters in the Independence movement to modern lawmakers shaping the nation.

A legacy of women leaders in Indian politics

When we look back, women’s participation in Indian politics is anything but static – it’s been a dynamic force growing stronger each decade. Even during the freedom struggle against British colonialism, women played crucial roles: from Sarojini Naidu raising her voice for equality to the fierce leadership of Sucheta Kripalani and Aruna Asaf Ali. These trailblazers proved that women’s leadership was integral to India’s destiny. After independence, India broke global norms by granting universal suffrage to women and men alike from the very first election – a historic step that many Western democracies took decades to achieve. In fact, it was only in 1950 – with the birth of the Republic of India – that all women in India finally won the unconditional right to vote. This early commitment set the stage for women to enter public life as equals in principle, if not always in practice.

Over the years, women have risen to some of the highest offices in the country, shattering glass ceilings that once seemed impenetrable. India was one of the first nations in the world to elect a woman Prime Minister – Indira Gandhi took office in 1966, showing that a woman could lead the world’s largest democracy. Since then, we’ve seen women become Presidents (like Pratibha Patil), powerful Chief Ministers (from Jayalalithaa to Mamata Banerjee) and influential opposition leaders.

At the grassroots too, change was set in motion by progressive policies: the 73rd Constitutional Amendment (1992) reserved one-third of seats in village panchayats for women, a quota later increased to 50% in many states. This means millions of women in rural India have had a chance to serve as village council heads (sarpanchs) and local representatives. From village councils to Parliament, more women than ever before are stepping into leadership roles, determined to shape their communities and country.

Yet alongside these shining examples, the reality for most Indian women remains a mix of advancement and adversity. Today, far more girls attend school and university than in previous generations, and many more women join the workforce and community leadership roles than before. The very sight of women gathering in village meetings or contesting elections – once a rarity – is gradually becoming commonplace. Women in India continue to raise their voices for equal rights and social change, whether on the streets in protest or within the halls of policymaking. But despite this active participation, deep-rooted challenges persist and the journey toward true equality is far from over.

Women representatives participate in a local governance meeting in India, highlighting the growing (if still limited) presence of women in grassroots politics. Over the decades, the numbers tell a story of both progress and disparity. Indian women have proven their resolve by increasingly exercising their right to vote and contest office, but they still struggle to secure a fair share of actual power. In the following sections, we’ll dig into the data on women’s political participation, examine the barriers that continue to hold women back and explore the efforts – from legal reforms to grassroots initiatives – that aim to bridge the gender gap in Indian politics.

By the numbers: Women’s political participation today

In recent years, data shows that women’s political participation in India has been steadily rising, even if representation in power remains skewed. Consider the act of voting – the most fundamental expression of democracy. Women’s voter turnout has climbed dramatically since the early decades of independence. In 1962, only about 46.6% of eligible women cast their ballots, reflecting both social barriers and an enduring gender gap. Fast forward to the latest national election in 2024 and nearly 65.8% of women voters turned out to vote. This surge in female voter participation signifies an important cultural shift.

In fact, the once-wide turnout gap between men and women has virtually evaporated. For the first time in India’s history, women matched or even slightly surpassed men in voting rates in the 2010s – notably in 2019, female voter turnout actually exceeded male turnout (women made up roughly 49.5% of voters that year). Indian women, even in rural and traditionally conservative areas, are increasingly claiming their political voice at the ballot box, often outnumbering men in polling booths and defying anyone who doubts their commitment to democracy.

This growing assertiveness isn’t limited to voting. More women are also stepping forward to contest elections – to not just vote for leaders, but to be the leaders. The change from the past is striking. Back in 1957 (India’s second general election), only 45 women in the entire country ran as candidates for Parliament. At that time, seeing a woman’s name on the ballot was like spotting a unicorn. Fast forward to the 17th and 18th Lok Sabha elections in 2019 and 2024 and the number of women candidates swelled into the hundreds.

In the 2024 general election, 797 women candidates entered the fray out of 8,337 total candidates. That’s a seventeen-fold increase in women’s participation as candidates since the 1950s. It’s an encouraging sign that more women want to run for office and serve, even if many face an uphill battle in the male-dominated arena of electoral politics. For context, women’s share among all candidates was about 9.5% in 2024 – a slight rise from 9% in 2019. Clearly, political parties are still overwhelmingly fielding men, but the needle is slowly moving as women push into these spaces.

Now, how about representation in the legislatures – the people who actually win and hold office? Here too, the trend is upward, though the pace has been agonisingly slow. In 1952, women made up just about 5% of the Lok Sabha, India’s lower house of Parliament. Only 22 women were elected in that first Lok Sabha of independent India, out of 489 MPs. Fast forward over 70 years: in the current Lok Sabha (elected in 2024, the 18th Lok Sabha), 74 women MPs were elected, comprising 13.6% of the house. This is the highest number of women Parliament has ever seen – yet it’s still only one out of every seven MPs.

In fact, women’s representation dipped slightly in 2024 compared to 2019 (when there were 78 women MPs, about 14.4%), reminding us that progress is not always linear. The upper house, Rajya Sabha, has seen a similar gradual rise – from roughly 7% women in the 1950s to about 13% in 2023. These figures underscore a sobering reality: even in 2025, Indian women are vastly underrepresented in the highest corridors of power. A country that had a woman Prime Minister over fifty years ago still hasn’t cracked the code to gender balance in its Parliament.

At the state level and local levels, however, there are some bright spots. Several state assemblies have seen increases in women MLAs (Members of Legislative Assembly), though none have anywhere near parity. But it’s at the level of local governance – the panchayats and municipalities – where India has made a quantum leap, thanks to constitutional quotas. Today, women form almost half of all local government representatives. As of 2023, about 46.6% of the 3.23 million panchayat representatives are women. That’s roughly 1.5 million women leading village councils, sitting in block committees and making decisions for their communities. This is a stunning transformation from a few decades ago when village leadership was almost entirely male.

In many local bodies, reserved seats for women have normalised the presence of sarpanchnis (women village heads) and council members – creating a pipeline of experienced female leaders at the grassroots. In 2022, women made up about 44% of local government representatives nationwide and that share has only grown. This means the face of local governance in India is increasingly female, which could, over time, change attitudes about women in leadership and create bottom-up pressure for greater representation in higher offices.

The data points to an optimistic conclusion: women in India are more politically engaged than ever before – they are voting in massive numbers, contesting elections in greater frequency and gradually winning more positions of power. Each percentage gain represents millions of women’s voices being heard. However, numbers alone don’t tell the full story. A rising graph of participation doesn’t automatically equal real empowerment. To truly understand where women stand in India’s socio-political spaces, we must also confront the harder question: what obstacles are women still facing, and why – despite greater participation – do they remain so underrepresented in actual decision-making? The next section delves into these challenges.

The gender gap and ongoing challenges

For all the gains women have made, stark gender gaps and deep-rooted barriers continue to define their political journey – in India, as in much of the world. It’s a bitter truth that while women make up nearly half of India’s population and voters, they occupy only a small fraction of its power structures.

Globally, women remain underrepresented at all levels of decision-making and India is no exception. According to the World Economic Forum’s latest analysis, at the current rate of progress it will take an estimated 123 years to achieve full gender parity worldwide. (This bleak figure is actually an improvement – it was 132 years as of 2024, so the world inched 9 years closer in the past year.) Still, 123 years is far too long to wait for equal representation. And for many Indian women, the pace of change feels glacial, especially when their daily reality includes discrimination, safety concerns and unequal access to resources.

Let’s talk about Indian politics on the ground – a realm still dominated by men, where women who dare to enter often face hostility or condescension. One major challenge is sheer cultural inertia and patriarchal attitudes. For decades, politics was seen as a “man’s domain,” and vestiges of that mindset linger. Female politicians frequently have to work twice as hard to be taken seriously. They are subjected to sexist remarks, their competence questioned, their private lives scrutinised.

The idea of a woman wielding authority can provoke backlash in a society where many still expect women to be deferential. The system wasn’t built with women in mind and sometimes it shows its teeth to those trying to change it. Indeed, women who speak up or step out of “their place” often face disproportionate criticism and even abuse. It’s not uncommon to see outspoken women leaders being trolled on social media or heckled in legislatures with misogynistic jibes. This toxic environment can discourage women from pursuing public life – yet many persist, fuelled by a desire to change the very system that marginalises them.

One of the most pernicious manifestations of patriarchy in Indian politics is the phenomenon of “proxy women” or Pradhan Pati (literally, “husband of the chief”). This refers to situations – particularly in rural local bodies – where a woman is elected to a position (often due to a reserved seat), but the real power is wielded by her husband or a male relative.

In some village councils, the elected woman sarpanch is essentially a figurehead while her husband (jokingly dubbed the sarpanch pati) sits in on meetings, makes decisions, and signs documents on her behalf. It’s the oldest trick in the patriarchy playbook: satisfy the letter of women’s reservation laws by installing a woman in the seat, but preserve male control behind the scenes. This “proxy politics” undermines the very purpose of empowering women through reservations and unfortunately it’s widespread in certain areas.

As one government report noted, women constitute nearly 46% of panchayat representatives, however, their effective participation remains low, especially in northern states like Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, Haryana, and Rajasthan, where male relatives often control decision-making”. The term Pradhan Pati has entered the political lexicon to name and shame this practice. It highlights how deeply entrenched gender norms can subvert progressive laws – families and communities may feel uncomfortable with women in power, so they enforce the old norms by propping up the men in the shadows.

Women serving in local office often face immense pressure from family and community to act as rubber stamps. Interference by husbands or male kin not only robs women of agency but also robs the community of genuine female leadership. As a result, many women representatives struggle to exercise their authority. They are talked over in meetings, excluded from important discussions or simply ordered by their family on how to vote or govern. It’s common to hear anecdotes of a villager approaching the husband of a woman pradhan to get things done – because everyone “knows” he’s the real boss. This is profoundly disempowering for women who genuinely want to lead. It also shows that changing laws (like introducing quotas) is not enough on its own; social attitudes have to evolve so that a woman leader is respected in her own right.

Additionally, lack of support and resources holds many women back. Politics is a game that often runs on money, connections and the old boys’ network. Women, who historically have had less access to financial resources and public networks, find it harder to fund their campaigns or connect to mentors. Political parties – the gatekeepers of electoral tickets – often hesitate to nominate women in winnable seats. Some party leaders still harbour biases that women are “weak candidates” or won’t be able to handle the rough-and-tumble of electoral combat. This results in women being passed over for party tickets or being fielded in unwinnable constituencies as token candidates.

The old prejudiced question, “Can she win?” still hangs over women aspirants, even when data shows women legislators perform as well or better than their male counterparts when given a chance. There’s also a networking gap – many male politicians groom their sons or younger male colleagues to succeed them, whereas women often lack similar patronage. The absence of adequate support systems – from funding to security to mentorship – means women entering politics must often blaze a trail on their own.

Another harsh reality: violence and safety concerns. Politics in some parts of India can be violent and women candidates have faced harassment, threats and even physical assault. In areas with intense political rivalries, a woman canvassing door-to-door might fear for her safety in ways her male colleagues don’t. Online violence is another modern scourge – women in public life are routinely subjected to trolling, abuse and threats on social media, with attacks often targeting their gender or personal life. This creates a chilling effect, as some women decide the mental toll of a public role is simply too high.

Finally, the double burden of domestic responsibilities cannot be ignored. Society still largely expects women to be primary caregivers and homemakers. Thus, a woman in politics often juggles multiple roles – managing her household and children alongside a demanding public career. The long hours and travel that political life entails can strain family life, and without supportive partners or infrastructure (like childcare), many women simply cannot afford to devote themselves fully to politics. It’s a classic Catch-22: we need more women in leadership to push for policies (like childcare, flexible work, parental leave) that would help ease these burdens, but the burdens themselves make it harder for women to ascend to leadership.

One might imagine the everyday heroism of women who persist despite these challenges: the young woman sarpanch who studies government manuals at night because her husband never lets her speak in meetings; the female MP who endures jeers in Parliament with steely grace; the first-time candidate who campaigns with a baby on her hip because she has no alternative. These stories exemplify both the resilience of Indian women and the unfair weight placed upon them.

The Indian government and civil society are aware of many of these issues, and there have been efforts to address them. For instance, a government panel in 2023 recommended “exemplary penalties” for those caught engaging in proxy leadership, to crack down on the Pradhan Pati culture. They suggested measures like publicly swearing in women leaders in open village assemblies (to affirm that she holds the office), appointing women-only ombudspersons to hear complaints and even creating support networks and training for elected women. The logic is clear: it’s not enough to reserve seats for women; we must ensure women can actually exercise the power of those seats.

Similarly, activists and NGOs are conducting leadership workshops for women in local government, teaching them about their legal powers, budgeting and public speaking, and crucially, how to push back when someone tries to usurp their role. These efforts, though on a modest scale, are vital sparks of change.

The United Nations and other international bodies have also emphasised the importance of women’s equal participation. UN Women has repeatedly stated that women’s underrepresentation in decision-making is a loss for society and achieving gender parity in political life is a prerequisite for true democracy and sustainable development.

The World Economic Forum’s Gender Gap Report ranks countries on political empowerment – and India currently ranks low (in 2023, India was 127th out of 146 countries on overall gender gap, with particularly poor scores in political representation). This is a reminder that India, despite being the world’s largest democracy, has much work to do to ensure that its democracy is inclusive of all its citizens.

In summary, women in India stand at a crossroads of change. They have made significant strides in participation and visibility, yet they continue to battle systemic sexism and structural barriers that men do not face. The gender gap in politics is about power, attitude and culture. Bridging it requires a transformation in how we as a society view women as leaders.

Pushing forward: Reforms and the road ahead

The challenges are steep, but they are not insurmountable. History shows that change is possible when pushed by collective will and bold reforms. To truly elevate women’s position in India’s political sphere, a multi-pronged approach is needed – combining legal mandates, institutional reforms and social initiatives. This means tackling the problem at all levels: from Parliament down to the village and from political parties to households.

A critical step that has long been discussed, and finally saw a breakthrough, is the idea of reservations (quotas) for women in state and national legislatures. For decades, activists and progressive politicians campaigned for a Women’s Reservation Bill that would reserve 33% of seats in the Lok Sabha and State Assemblies for women (similar to the quota in panchayats). After many false starts, this historic reform was passed by Parliament in 2023. The Constitution (106th Amendment) Act, 2023 – often hailed as the Nari Shakti Vandan Adhiniyam – became law, aiming to ensure that one-third of all seats in the national and state legislatures will be earmarked for women. If implemented, it could swiftly raise women’s representation in the Lok Sabha from the current ~14% to at least 33% – the biggest leap in history. It’s as if the political map of India is being redrawn with women at the centre.

However, the bill comes with its own caveats and timeline (its provisions will be enacted after the next delimitation of constituencies, which means it may not take effect until a future general election, possibly 2029). The journey from 13.6% to 33% representation will still take time and political will to realise. Activists are urging that the implementation be expedited and not lost in procedural delays. Passing a law is only half the battle; enforcing it is the next. Still, the very passage of the Women’s Reservation Bill marks a paradigm shift. It’s an official acknowledgment that extraordinary measures are required to correct the historical imbalance.

It is turning the slow drip of progress into a fire hose – forcing open the gates for women to enter en masse into decision-making roles. If one out of every three lawmakers in India is a woman in the near future, it could profoundly change not just legislation on women’s issues, but the very culture of policy-making (potentially making it more collaborative and inclusive, as some studies suggest happens with more women at the table).

Yet, quotas alone won’t solve everything. Political empowerment must be accompanied by social, economic and cultural empowerment. There’s a saying: “Give a woman a seat at the table and then watch to ensure she isn’t on the menu.” Women who enter politics need an environment that allows them to thrive and lead effectively. This is where capacity-building and support systems become crucial. We need robust programmes to train and mentor aspiring women leaders.

Imagine leadership development workshops across the country, where experienced women politicians and professionals coach younger women in public speaking, navigating party structures, crafting policy and running effective campaigns. Some of this is already happening in pockets – for instance, the government committee on Panchayati Raj recommended creating federations of women panchayat leaders for peer support and partnering with educational institutions to provide leadership training for women in local office.

Similarly, civil society organisations are running “campaign schools” for women, teaching them practical skills like filing nominations, fundraising and using social media for outreach. Expanding these training programmes nationally could massively boost women’s confidence and competence in the political arena. When a woman knows her stuff – knows the rules, the procedures, the tricks of the trade – it’s much harder for others to sideline her.

Mentorship is another key. Every successful person in politics often has a mentor or a guide. Creating mentorship networks that pair young female political aspirants with seasoned women leaders can help transfer knowledge and create solidarity. Senior women who have broken barriers can lend a hand to the next generation, advising them on handling both policy issues and bias they will inevitably face.

In an ideal scenario, each political party would have a structured mentorship and training wing for women – identifying promising talent at the grassroots and grooming them for larger roles. This is not wishful thinking; some parties have started women’s wings and leadership programs, but these efforts need to be more than symbolic. Parties must also walk the talk when it comes to candidate selection. One concrete ask from activists is for parties to voluntarily field women in at least 33% of the constituencies, even before the reservation law compels them to. This means winnable seats, not just token contests.

A few parties in recent state elections have indeed given 40–50% tickets to women (with notable success – women candidates often have a higher win ratio). It’s time this becomes the norm, not the exception, across the political spectrum. Voters, too, can play a role by demanding their parties put forward more women and by supporting women candidates at the polls.

Another area of focus should be strengthening laws and mechanisms to ensure women’s safety and dignity in politics. This includes stricter action against those who harass or assault female candidates and better enforcement of codes of conduct to prevent sexist hate speech during campaigns. The Election Commission of India could consider guidelines to rein in candidates who make misogynistic comments or attempts to intimidate women opponents.

On the logistical side, providing facilities like childcare or flexible meeting times can make it easier for women (especially young mothers) to participate in politics. Some local bodies have experimented with creches at panchayat meeting venues – small steps like these send a powerful message that women are welcome and accommodated in these spaces, not just reluctantly tolerated.

Education and awareness campaigns at the community level are also vital. If a village’s elders understand that a woman sarpanch has the same authority as any man, they might be less likely to default to the husband for decisions. Public campaigns to celebrate women leaders or community dialogues about the value of women’s leadership, can slowly chip away at societal biases. The media, too, has a role: representation of women politicians in media should move beyond focusing on what they wear or their family background and instead highlight their work and impact. Visible success stories of women leaders can inspire others and change perceptions.

The road ahead requires a coalition of stakeholders – government, civil society, communities and women themselves – pushing together. It means not just top-down reforms, but bottom-up societal change. Revolutions don’t happen by waiting politely; they happen by persistent pressure and rebellious hope. Indian women and their allies must keep the pressure on – to implement the reservation law quickly, to hold parties accountable, and to challenge sexist norms wherever they see them. Each barrier knocked down creates momentum for the next.

Women as agents of change

Amid these systemic efforts, it’s important to remember that women are not just beneficiaries of change – they are often the drivers of change themselves. Across the globe and in India, women have proven themselves indispensable agents of change, activism and social transformation. Whenever society has moved forward – whether in movements against colonialism, fights for civil rights or struggles for environmental justice – women have been on the frontlines, leading with courage and compassion. They have organised communities, challenged oppressive systems and advocated for the marginalised.

In India, think of the Chipko movement in the 1970s where village women literally hugged trees to prevent deforestation or the anti-liquor agitations led by women that spurred social reform in states like Andhra Pradesh. From grassroot activism to policy innovation, women’s contributions have been game-changing. They bring perspectives that prioritise community well-being, inclusivity and long-term thinking – qualities the world desperately needs in leadership.

Women activists and leaders also often embed storytelling in their approach to change. They use the power of personal narrative and empathy to rally others. Whether it’s a mother advocating for better sanitation in her village by recounting how lack of toilets affected her daughters or a young parliamentarian sharing her journey to inspire schoolgirls, these stories break through cynicism and inspire action. Stories have the power to transform hearts and transformed hearts change the world.

While discussing activism, it’s crucial to highlight that women’s empowerment is not just a political issue, but a social one that touches education, health and economic independence. Empowerment is holistic: a woman who is educated, healthy and financially independent is more likely to participate in politics and community leadership. Recognising this, many organisations in India are working at the grassroots to enable women to stand on their feet and raise their voices. One such initiative is the Swabhiman programme by Smile Foundation – a flagship women’s empowerment program that epitomises the idea of change starting from within communities.

Swabhiman (meaning “self-respect” or “pride”) was launched in 2005 to bridge the very gaps that hold women back, especially in underserved communities. The philosophy is equip women with the resources, knowledge and skills they need to become self-reliant change-makers. This involves ensuring access to education, because knowledge truly is power. The programme helps girls and young women pursue schooling and vocational training – whether it’s computer courses, tailoring or financial literacy – opening up economic opportunities for them.

Economic independence is a game changer for women. When a woman earns her own income, she gains confidence, bargaining power in her family and the freedom to make life choices. Swabhiman focuses on exactly this, helping women get job-ready or start small enterprises so they can support themselves and their families. Over the years, tens of thousands of women have received vocational training through Swabhiman, turning their talents into livelihoods.

Equally important is health and nutrition, an often overlooked facet of empowerment. A woman who is chronically ill or malnourished cannot participate fully in public life. Swabhiman’s community health workers visit neighbourhoods to educate women about reproductive health, maternal care and nutrition. They organise health camps and connect women to medical services, ensuring they and their children stay healthy. This not only improves quality of life but also frees women from the constant worry of illness, allowing them to focus on personal growth and civic engagement. As an example, through health and nutrition counselling, thousands of women have learned about family planning and child healthcare, leading to better outcomes for entire communities.

What’s truly inspiring is how Swabhiman fosters leadership at the grassroots level. The programme forms women’s groups and community networks. Women who once rarely stepped out of their homes are now attending weekly meetings, voicing their concerns and learning to solve problems collectively. They discuss issues like local sanitation, girls’ education or domestic violence, and they approach local authorities as a united front to demand action.

In essence, these women are practising politics at the micro level – getting a taste of advocacy and governance in their own communities. Many have gone on to become community leaders, such as members of school committees or health volunteers, and a few have even contested local elections, emboldened by the confidence and support system they developed.

The ripple effects of empowering one woman are immense. Take, for instance, the story of Shyama from Haryana (one of the women highlighted by Swabhiman’s Stories of Change). During the COVID-19 pandemic, Shyama’s husband lost his job and her family was pushed to the brink. Through Swabhiman, Shyama accessed a vocational course in tailoring and was provided initial support to start a small tailoring business at home. She not only earned income to sustain her family through the crisis, but she also gained a newfound confidence.

Today, Shyama trains other village women in stitching and together they’ve formed a self-help group to sell handcrafted garments. Her journey from a housewife with no say in family finances to an entrepreneur and mentor is a testament to what empowerment programmes can achieve. There are countless such stories – of Yashoda in Bengaluru, who used health workshops to become a community health advocate after seeing her family struggle or Ishwati in Maharashtra, who transformed from a daily wage laborer to a savvy small business owner with a micro-loan and training. Each story echoes the truth that when women are given knowledge and opportunity, they uplift not only themselves but everyone around them.

Programmes like Swabhiman illustrate the power of investing in women at the grassroots. They address the interconnected challenges of gender inequality – education gaps, lack of skills, poor health, social norms – in a holistic way. By doing so, they create a pathway to dignity and equality for women who have been on the margins. An educated, skilled, healthy woman with self-confidence is far more likely to assert her rights, participate in local governance or even pursue a political career.

In other words, the seeds of future women leaders are being sown in these community programmes today. The women who learn to raise their voice in a community meeting might tomorrow raise their voice in a state assembly.

These women are living proof that empowerment is not a top-down gift but a bottom-up revolution. When women stand up for themselves, they inevitably stand up for broader social progress, be it in fighting poverty, improving healthcare or demanding justice. We see this in how empowered women invest in their children’s education, campaign against social evils like child marriage and form the backbone of grassroots movements. They are the unsung heroes making daily revolutions in homes and neighbourhoods, which eventually ripple out to transform society.

In conclusion, where do women stand in India? They stand at the forefront of change – as voters, leaders, activists, mothers, workers, dreamers and doers. They stand on the shoulders of the giants who came before (the freedom fighters, the pioneers in politics) and they stand arm-in-arm with each other, forging a path where none existed. India’s socio-political landscape is being slowly reshaped by their hands. Every additional percentage of women voting, every new woman elected to office, every girl who finishes school, every woman who learns a skill and gains confidence – these are the foundation blocks of a more just and equal India.

Women’s participation is growing, their voices getting louder. But the work is far from finished. The halls of power are still largely male, and centuries-old patriarchal attitudes don’t vanish overnight. The promising laws and policies (from reservations in Panchayats to the new Women’s Reservation Bill) now need faithful implementation and societal support. The challenges of proxy power, gender bias and violence must be met with firm resolve and innovative solutions.

Yet, if there is one thing to be optimistic about, it is the indomitable spirit of Indian women. They have shown that they will not be passive or silent. Whether it’s a village woman asserting herself in a Gram Sabha or the women’s movements that have swept urban streets on issues of safety and equality, there is a relentless energy pushing forward. Each generation of women builds on the victories of the last and breaks new ground for the next.

It is the hope that keeps a woman contesting an election she’s told she can’t win, the hope that fuels activists demanding a seat at the table and the hope passed to a young girl that she can be anything she wants – even the Prime Minister. And it is collective action that will turn that hope into reality: action by women and men, by communities and leaders, to ensure women are not just standing, but thriving and leading in every arena of Indian life.

In the final reckoning, empowering women is not a zero-sum game – it uplifts entire families, communities and the nation. As more women take their rightful place in India’s socio-political spaces, India’s democracy itself becomes more vibrant, responsive and just. The road to equality may be long, but with each step taken by strong women (and supportive allies), the destination draws nearer. Where do women stand in India? They stand resolutely on the frontlines of change and if we listen to their voices and support their rise, they will lead India to a brighter, more equitable future for all.

Sources:

  • Firstpost – Women in Indian Politics: A story that has changed little over the years
  • Indian Express – From 1951-2019: How women voters outnumbered men in Lok Sabha polls
  • Indian Express – Govt panel proposes ‘exemplary penalties’ for husband proxies running panchayats
  • Drishti IAS – Issue of Pradhan Pati in Panchayats (analysis of proxy leadership in local bodies)
  • World Economic Forum – Global Gender Gap Report 2025: Key Findings
  • NextIAS Current Affairs – Women’s Political Participation in India (summary of female voter turnout trends)
  • Shankar IAS Parliament – Women’s Participation in Politics (historical Lok Sabha representation data and global comparison)
  • Hindustan Times – 22 in 1951 to 78 in 2019: How has India fared in electing women? (historical data on women MPs in Lok Sabha)
  • Smile Foundation – Women Empowerment Programme – Swabhiman (programme description and impact statistics)
Categories
Education

How Closing One Primary School Changes Life for the Worse?

In Joynagar and Kadamtoli — two villages in Bangladesh’s Kachua upazila — the closure of a single school did more than halt classes. It ripped a seam in the community life. The effects are not contained to the children who once filled its benches. They spread into homes, businesses and the ambitions of a generation that will now come of age without the anchor of a nearby school.

We talk a lot about access to education in the abstract — about literacy rates and enrolment figures, about Sustainable Development Goal 4’s promise of inclusive, quality education for all by 2030. But the conversation rarely lingers on the lived reality of what happens when that access is physically removed. This is the story we avoid because it forces us to confront the uncomfortable truth that losing one rural primary school can erase decades of progress, not just for individual children but for entire communities.

A symbol of hope, born from the ground up

The story of this school began not with a government budget but with a gift of land. In 2004, local social worker Abdur Rahim Patwary and other community members pooled 20 decimals of land so children could learn without walking miles. It was a humble building — three classrooms, a handful of teachers, 200 eager pupils. For a brief time, the school was a living proof of what collective action can achieve.

Then, two years later, the money ran out. The bureaucratic support never arrived. And one day, the gates closed. No formal announcement, no relocation plan. Just an absence that settled into everyday life, quietly rearranging futures.

Primary school education interrupted, lives derailed

When a rural primary school closes, children don’t simply move to the next nearest one. In practice, it means longer walks — often along unsafe or flood-prone routes — or prohibitive transport costs. Parents, weighing the risks, sometimes decide it’s safer or cheaper to keep children at home.

For girls, the consequences are especially severe. In the absence of a local school, concerns about safety and propriety rise. Early marriages become more likely. Household work replaces homework. Over time, the educational gap between boys and girls widens, entrenching inequality for another generation.

And the impact is not only academic. Rural schools are often the hub for vaccination drives, midday meal schemes and community meetings. Their closure cuts off these lifelines, leaving a void in both services and social connection.

The quiet economics of school closures

Education experts often frame school closures as an educational crisis. But they’re also an economic one. In Joynagar and Kadamtoli, families with means began migrating to areas with better schools. Property values dipped. Local shops saw fewer customers. The absence of young families made it harder to justify investment in roads, water systems or even internet connectivity.

This is the downward spiral rarely captured in policy debates: the loss of a school accelerates rural decline. It’s not just that children lose lessons; it’s that entire villages lose reasons to stay, invest and grow.

The teachers left behind

When the school closed, its teachers — once community pillars — were left jobless. Many had no choice but to move away or take up work unrelated to education. The loss isn’t just about headcount; it’s about mentorship, continuity and the trust built between educators and families over years.

A national problem in microcosm

The case of Joynagar and Kadamtoli is not an anomaly. Across South Asia, rural school closures are becoming more frequent — often justified under the logic of “rationalisation” or budget efficiency. But these closures disproportionately hit low-income and marginalised communities, the very groups most at risk of being left behind.

Globally, UNESCO estimates that 272 million children and young people are out of school — a 3% rise since 2015, reversing hard-won gains. In countries like India and Bangladesh, where rural populations remain large, the loss of a local school can set back not just educational attainment but public health, gender equality and economic resilience.

The human cost behind the numbers

The children affected by school closures don’t fade neatly into statistics. In Joynagar, one girl now spends her mornings collecting water instead of learning to read. A boy who used to dream of becoming a doctor now helps his father in the fields. These shifts may seem small to outsiders, but they shape trajectories in permanent ways.

When a child misses the foundation years of education, catching up becomes exponentially harder. Illiteracy limits job opportunities, reduces awareness of rights and keeps families locked in poverty. The deprivation is quiet, almost invisible to those outside the village — but its effects will echo for decades.

The missing safety net

It shouldn’t take the personal intervention of a new upazila education officer to reopen a school. Yet in Joynagar, that’s exactly what locals are hoping for. They’ve submitted a petition. The officer has promised a site visit. It’s a small step, but it reveals the fragility of rural educational infrastructure: without sustained funding and oversight, these institutions can vanish overnight.

National education policy often assumes that if a school closes, children will simply transfer elsewhere. But this ignores the realities of rural geography, poverty and gender norms. What’s missing is a mandatory safety net: a guarantee that no community will be left without a functioning primary school within accessible distance.

A matter of justice

We often talk about education as a human right. But rights are only as strong as the systems that uphold them. Closing a rural school without a plan for immediate replacement is not just a logistical oversight — it’s a breach of that right.

The irony is painful: in a world obsessed with digital progress and AI breakthroughs, there are children counting on their fingers because they don’t own a notebook.

From loss to action

Not all is despair. Initiatives like Smile Foundation’s Shiksha Na Ruke are stepping into the breach, helping children in difficult circumstances continue their studies through community-based learning kits, mentorship and alternative learning centres. But these are stopgaps, not substitutes for a functioning public education system.

If we are serious about meeting SDG 4, the starting point is deceptively simple: keep existing schools open. Fund them adequately. Staff them with trained teachers. Make closure the absolute last resort, not the first budget-cut option.

Because when a school disappears, the loss is not contained to a building. It’s in the wedding of a 14-year-old girl who might have been a teacher. It’s in the empty shop on the village’s main road. It’s in the silence where children’s voices used to rise in chorus, reciting lessons they believed would take them somewhere.

If you are a policymaker: write protection clauses into education budgets. If you are a philanthropist or corporate leader: fund not just new schools but the survival of existing ones. If you are a citizen: ask your elected representatives what they are doing to prevent closures in the most vulnerable areas.

Because in Joynagar and Kadamtoli, the community’s future is hanging on whether those gates will ever open again. And in thousands of villages like them, the story is the same.

The question is whether we’ll notice before the silence spreads.

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