On a sweltering afternoon in the outskirts of Kolkata, outside their modest home, 40-year-old Pushpa receives a gentle yet firm nudge from her 10-year-old daughter, Pooja, along with a book of alphabets. “Ma, aap bhi padhai shuru karo (Ma, you should begin studying too),” urges Pooja, believing with all her heart that her mother can learn just as effortlessly as she runs the household. That evening, about a year ago, Pushpa took her first step into a classroom—nervous yet determined. Today, she can read street signs, write grocery lists, and dreams of the day she will leaf through a newspaper on her own.
Miles away, in Patharpratima, South 24 Parganas, 30-year-old Muniya remembers the moment that turned fear into action. One monsoon evening, the river beside their village claimed yet another portion of land. “If we don’t protect our homes, who will?” she asked the women around her, cradling her young child as she spoke. That single question sparked a movement. Together, one sapling at a time, the mothers of that remote village began reclaiming not only the soil under their feet but also their dignity and sense of purpose.
On International Mother’s Day, we celebrate women like Pushpa and Muniya—mothers who are not only nurturing their children but also redefining what it means to be resilient, resourceful, and revolutionary. From urban slums to coastal hamlets in West Bengal, mothers are emerging as the silent architects of change. For them, no dream is too small and no challenge too great—especially when the future of their children is at stake.
For Pushpa, mornings begin before dawn. Cooking, washing, ensuring her husband and three children are ready for the day—this is a rhythm she knows well. But instead of resting during the hot afternoon hours, she picks up a couple of books and heads to class. With each lesson, she is chasing a long-buried dream: learning to read and write. She is one of 20 women attending adult literacy sessions under CRY’s Educate The Girl Child initiative. Initially designed to help mothers support their daughters’ education, the programme sparked something unexpected: the mothers themselves began yearning to learn. Inspired by their daughters’ growing confidence and aspirations, these women began taking small but transformative steps toward their own education.
For most of them, books had been a luxury they could never access. Some had never been to school, while others dropped out after primary classes to take on family responsibilities. Today, they study alphabets, practice numbers, and even complete homework. Rita Devi, a mother of five, is the most enthusiastic learner in the group, while Saina Dewan, who once struggled to calculate grocery expenses, now confidently does her sums. But these classes are more than just lessons—they are sanctuaries. Here, women discuss their struggles, share aspirations, and tackle issues like child marriage, health, and gender equality. Their perspectives are evolving, and so are their families. A 14-year-old boy proudly says his mother now studies alongside him, trying to grasp the same concepts he does. When a mother learns, she not only uplifts herself but elevates her entire household.
In the flood-prone villages of Patharpratima, a group of mothers is defending their homes with bare hands and fierce hearts. Every year, the Gobadhia River swells, washing away homes, dreams, and memories. But not anymore. Led by Muniya, the women have taken up the challenge of protecting their land through nature-based solutions. With help from a local NGO, they’ve built a nursery and are now planting thousands of mangrove saplings. These act as natural barriers, holding the soil and shielding the villages from erosion. It’s grueling work—stooping in the blazing sun, feet soaked in mud, often with children strapped to their backs—but their resolve is unshakeable. Every sapling planted is a promise to their children: of safety, of survival, of a future.
The initiative has also opened avenues for income. By selling saplings to NGOs and local bodies, the women now earn modest livelihoods. But more than money, it’s the identity that matters. These mothers are no longer seen only through the lens of domesticity—they are environmental stewards, community leaders, and protectors of their families’ futures.
In a neighbouring village, 40-year-old Dipali has found her voice in a different way. Through regular parent sessions, she has gained more than awareness—she has discovered agency. Married off early, Dipali never questioned societal norms until she attended a session on the consequences of child marriage. Determined to write a new story for her daughter, she has taken a firm stand: there will be no marriage until her child completes her education. “Back then, there was no awareness, no one to speak up. But now, even if I have to fight alone, I will,” she says with conviction. True to her word, she recently intervened to stop the marriage of a minor girl in her village, proving just how powerful an informed mother can be.
Pushpa, Muniya, Dipali, and countless other mothers are scripting a new chapter—one where maternal care includes intellectual growth, environmental action, and social change. They are proof that empowerment does not begin or end at a certain age—it flows, like maternal love, through every facet of life. Mothers are not just nurturers; they are educators, protectors, and change-makers. Their influence is generational—studies show that children of literate and empowered mothers are more likely to stay in school, challenge gender roles, and pursue fulfilling lives.
In Patharpratima, the mangrove mothers are leading the way in community-led climate resilience. In Kolkata’s slums, the classroom mothers are rebuilding their identities one word at a time. In between, others like Dipali are becoming advocates for rights, equity, and justice. So, this Mother’s Day, let us go beyond flowers and greetings. Let us honour the courage of mothers who dare to dream, who learn from their children, who challenge injustice, and who stand tall even in the face of nature’s fury. Because when a mother rises, she does not rise alone—she lifts with her a family, a community, and the future itself.
Author of the article Ms Trina Chakrabarti is the Regional Director, Child Rights and You (East)
