I went to India and I saw poverty.
I saw hunger.
I saw pain.

I went to India and within one hour I’d seen things that some people never see in a lifetime. I had experienced more than enough to make the strongest human weep. More than enough to make them cry. I went to India and my nerves were frayed within seconds. My senses overloaded. My nostrils were ready to drop from my face and my retinas burned with sheer exhaustion. The chaos and extremes hit me like a forklift truck. Every step I went deeper into the unknown explosion of chaos, colour and extremes. It sucked me in and didn’t let me go. It gripped me in a chokehold. I went to India and everything I thought I knew about the world vanished in a flash and I realised I knew absolutely nothing at all. At least nothing that mattered in India. The comfort of my working class western world was no use here.

I went to India and I saw the definition of poverty. Not the definition you read about in books or see on TV. Real poverty right there in front of me – scorching itself into my eyes, etching itself into my heart and forcing me to acknowledge it. If I looked the other way it followed me. If I closed my eyes I heard it. If I covered my ears I smelt it.

I went to India and I saw poverty.
I saw hunger.
I saw pain.

And then I went to a place called Jaipur and I saw something else.

I saw hope.

By chance I met a man. A man who had a dream of helping others. A man who gave up a managerial role at a good job to set up a school in the slums. A school for the women and children. He used his savings. To start with he used to walk around the slums knocking on houses, asking parents to let their children come to his school, free of charge. Before this some of the children spent all day locked in a room whilst their parents went to work. I know this because one time I went with him, knocking on doors, gathering children. Eventually the children started coming on their own. They needed no persuasion to go to school. It was a luxury. They received food and clothes. A safe environment. And an education. And then this man set up classes for the women of the slums, the illiterate ladies who couldn’t find very good jobs. These ladies can now read, write and speak in Hindi and English. The illiterate ladies from the slums can now do better maths than myself, a girl with a degree from one of the best universities in the England. The ladies are now learning how to sew, they are making clothing with the intention of selling these garments to make a living.

I went to India, to the slums of Jaipur and I saw children with nothing receiving an education. I saw weary children with tired eyes smiling and laughing. I saw children nurturing boxes of crayons like they were clinging onto the latest Xbox. But most of all I saw hope. Hope because this man wanted more for those who had less. This man is called Nitin.

Nitin and his wife are doing incredible things. They now have an Airbnb and run a hostel as a way to fund their slum projects. They provide free immunisations for children and pregnant ladies. The school is small and the numbers are large but no one is turned away.

I went to India and I saw poverty.
I saw hunger.
I saw pain.

But inside those four walls in the slums of Jaipur I saw a happy place. Thanks to Nitin I saw a place of hope. A place of smiles and dreams of a better life. Inside those four walls, although I still saw poverty and hunger and maybe even pain, I saw children with an education, women working towards better lives. My ears heard shy laughter. My eyes saw small faces light up at the mention of song. And my hands felt little fingers grasp them, at first in search of comfort and then as an act of friendship.

The name of Nitins’ school is ‘Saksham’ Centre for Child Education and Women Empowerment.

In Hindu the word Saksham means ‘capable’. We are all capable. Sometimes all we need is a chance.

I went to India and I saw lots of things.
I saw poverty, hunger and pain.
I saw suffering and I saw joy.
But what I saw more than anything else was heart.
And kindness.
And a whole lot of hope.

At the moment we are all suffering with the coronavirus, it is affecting lives worldwide and we are riddled with anxiety. But we will cope. And we will get through it if we help each other and take care.

India has now suspended the majority of its visas and is moving to close its borders. Nitin funds the school by Airbnb’ing rooms in his house. Obviously, everybody has cancelled their bookings which means he cannot pay the rent on the school. It is £170 a month. If he can’t come up with this rent the school will close and with it the hope of all those children and women of the slums that rely on it.

Big Dave has just set up a Just Giving page to try and raise the money to pay the rent of the school, which is an awesome achievement in itself considering he’s only just learned how to use his email 🙂 (well done Big D!). If you could donate anything at all it would be greatly appreciated. If you can’t spare any money but would be kind enough to share this post we would be equally as grateful!

You can find his page HERE (just click)

Other links which may interest you:

Facebook: Saksham – Center For Child Education & Women Empowerment

Instagram: ngo_saksham

Women’s Clothing Brand – by the women of the slums

Facebook: Indigo Inde

Instagram: Ashanari