Can Meena Build An Indian Google?

Meena wants to become a computer engineer. She believes that if she works hard enough, she can build her own “big business”—maybe a Google. So she is determined to complete her schooling and earn an engineering degree. Young girls like Meena, just 16 years old but with the ambition and confidence to enter the tech world, are a rare commodity even in Silicon Valley; but Meena lives in a slum in New Delhi. Her father works as a day laborer. He used to spend half his income on alcohol, and would come home drunk every night and make so much noise that Meena could not do her homework. He considered Meena a liability, saw no value in her education, and had nothing to be optimistic about.

Sana Azmi too lives in a Delhi slum. She is determined to become a lawyer. Sana has long had this ambition, but her unemployed father had made the decision to withdraw her from school this year, when she turns 16. His plan was to get her married as soon as possible, and he believed that if Sana received too much education, it would be difficult to find a suitable groom in their socioeconomic community. Moreover, they simply couldn’t afford to educate her. Sana begged her Dad to find a way; she told him that without higher education she would be like an “empty room”.

Meena’s father has now stopped drinking and is working long hours to save money for her education. He considers Meena to be the pride of the family, and is hopeful that she will lift the family out of poverty. And Sana’s parents are no longer on the lookout for potential grooms for their daughter. Instead, they are supporting and encouraging her efforts to complete high school and continue on to university.

How did these transformations happen? Through a non-profit group called Roshni Academy, which identifies, trains, and mentors brilliant girls from socioeconomically underprivileged communities. Founded by Saima Hasan when she was a junior at Stanford in 2007, and funded by Silicon Valley business leaders and philanthropists, Roshni has already transformed the lives of more than 500 underprivileged girls, in seven districts of Delhi.

The Roshni formula is simple: empower smart girls with self confidence, critical thinking skills, basic social skills, and life skills—and make them realize that they can succeed by working hard and taking risks. Roshni girls, all of whom live below the poverty line yet maintain top academic standing, undergo intensive education through three training modules over a six-month period. The curriculum covers 25 subjects, ranging from public speaking to conflict management to hygiene. Students are also taught computer and internet basics. At the end of each training season, 60 top-performing students are granted scholarships by the Nurul Hasan Foundation to pursue their secondary and higher education.

I was blown away by the energy and enthusiasm of the Roshni students I met on my recent trip to New Delhi. They were as confident as the students I teach at Duke and Berkeley. They bombarded me with great questions—they had a deep hunger to learn. And they were amazingly optimistic. Like the techies I know, they believed they could change the world. What surprised me the most was that that each of them claimed to have learned English through the Roshni program. This didn’t make sense given the short duration of the course. It turns out that even though they had studied English in school, these girls had never had the opportunity or confidence to speak it. Watch the video below of 15-year-old Roshni student Bazla Ambareen (and the other videos) to understand what I mean.

Conditions for the poor in India are dire, and people live at the extremes; but, sadly, things aren’t always that much better in some parts of the U.S. and in other parts of the world. You don’t have to go as far as Harlem, NY, or Durham, NC, to see poverty and disfranchised youth. In Silicon Valley, you can just visit schools in East Palo Alto or Oakland. In fact, Saima Hasan says that she got the idea for developing the Roshni program while tutoring students in East Palo Alto. That’s where she hopes to pilot, next year, an American version of her program.

My conclusion: if Roshni girls can rise above poverty, alcoholism, gender bias, domestic violence, marriage pressures, religious oppression, and a wide range of complex social and economic obstacles through pure hard work and determination, so can underprivileged communities in the U.S. There is nothing to stop us from lifting our minorities out of poverty and fixing the societal problems such as those that I’ve previously written about—American girls being left out of the tech world.

Editor’s note: Guest writer Vivek Wadhwa is an entrepreneur turned academic. He is a Visiting Scholar at UC-Berkeley, Senior Research Associate at Harvard Law School and Director of Research at the Center for Entrepreneurship and Research Commercialization at Duke University. You can follow him on Twitter at @vwadhwa and find his research atwww.wadhwa.com.

India: Tribal Area Medical Program Traditional & Modern - Gender

WUNRN

http://www.wunrn.com

Women's Feature Service

http://www.wfsnews.org/

India - New Delhi

"India - Another SEARCH intervention has been in improving the hygiene of the traditional Gond 'korma' - the rather dark and dirty hut in which women are isolated during menstruation. While it has been difficult to convince the community to do away with this practice of isolation, SEARCH health workers have managed to at least improve the 'korma', turning it into a clean, comfortable place, with perhaps a bed and a tiled roof. The 'korma' has, in fact, been transformed into a 'women's room', where women meet during their difficult days, rest and share experiences."

________________________________________________________________

Dr Rani Bang has successfully introduced modern medicine and practices of hygiene into tribal lifestyle. (Credit: Shekhar Soni\WFS)

India: Tribal Area Medical Program Traditional & Modern - Gender

By Shoma Sen

Gadchiroli (Women's Feature Service) - Deep in the forests of Gadchiroli, a tribal area of eastern Maharashtra, live the Gond 'adivasis' (tribals), some of the poorest and most neglected people of the state. The region is considered dangerous because large parts of it have come under the sway of Maoist rebels, also known as Naxalites, who have taken up the challenge of organising the Gonds to fight for a society they claim is based on justice and equality. The ensuing conflict between the rebels and the state has turned the region into a "police state", where anti-insurgency security forces are constantly on the vigil, storming Maoist hide-outs and eliminating suspects. The word 'encounter' - a euphemism for such extra-judicial killings - has become a part of local vocabulary.

The forest is usually not a place where one would expect to find qualified doctors, especially ones who have studied at the world renowned Johns Hopkins University in the US. But then Dr Rani Bang and her husband, Dr Abhay Bang, who are both in their fifties, founders of the Society for Education, Action and Research in Community Health (SEARCH), are not "usual". They were determined to take the road less travelled.

Rani Bang (nee Chari), daughter of a doctor and the granddaughter of a prominent Congress Party Member of Parliament (MP) from Chandrapur, met Abhay, the son of the famous Gandhian, Thakurdas Bang of Wardha, at Nagpur's Government Medical College. Abhay was involved in the Sampoorna Kranti (Complete Revolution) movement initiated by political leader Jayaprakash Narayan. On returning from Johns Hopkins, where the couple had gone to pursue higher studies after their marriage, Rani and Abhay resolved to put their powers of healing, as gynaecologist and physician respectively, in the service of government Primary Health Centres (PHCs) for the benefit of ordinary people.

In 1985, the couple set up SEARCH, a multifarious village within a village. Located in Shodhgram, about 15 kilometres from the district headquarters of Gadchiroli on the Dhanora road, SEARCH is a hospital, a de-addiction centre, a voluntary organisation that runs various projects on tribal welfare, health, adolescent sex education and so on. It is also a research institute that has brought out many publications. Reminiscent of a tribal village, it is equipped with all the modern amenities necessary to meet its objectives. Mud houses amidst trees built around a common courtyard, hutments for in-house patients to live in with their families, a temple dedicated to Danteswari Devi, worshipped by the Gonds, and other symbols of tribal culture, are around to make patients feel at home. "We asked the people what kind of a hospital they would like and then designed this facility," says Dr Rani Bang. Of course, the funds to do all the good work come from various government schemes and donors like the Ford Foundation.

The greatest achievements of the SEARCH project have been to bring about a fall in the maternal mortality rate (MMR) of the area through improved neo-natal childcare. This has been done by introducing modern medicine and practices of hygiene into the tribal lifestyle, through camps, visits to villages, training of birth attendants and health workers from among the community and by encouraging city-trained doctors to work in the area.

According to Sunanda, Women's Health Coordinator, SEARCH, maternal mortality has been high in this region because childbirth is carried out at home in the most primitive way. "Women arrive at the hospital only in cases of an emergency, due to factors such as lack of transport, finances and, initially, a lack of faith in modern medicine. But this is gradually changing." This positive behavioural change - including a growing preference for institutional deliveries - is largely because workers of SEARCH take the pains to explain the danger signs to pregnant women so that they understand when they must go to a hospital. "We explain about the anatomy, nutritious food and convince the mothers-in-law to feed the pregnant women well," elaborates Sunanda, who has been with the project for 15 years. Sunanda is originally from Nagpur and has done her MA in Sociology. She and her husband are both social workers employed by SEARCH.

Local customs are the reason for infant deaths, too. Traditionally, Gond mothers starve themselves for an easier birth, don't nurse for three days after their babies are born, and don't clothe the newborn for five weeks. As a result, pneumonia kills a large number of infants. In an attempt to address this concern, SEARCH has been encouraging mothers to check the weight of their newborns, among other measures. SEARCH has also trained birth attendants (TBAs), who can be any committed person who has attended to around four child births in the village.

Another SEARCH intervention has been in improving the hygiene of the traditional Gond 'korma' - the rather dark and dirty hut in which women are isolated during menstruation. While it has been difficult to convince the community to do away with this practice of isolation, SEARCH health workers have managed to at least improve the 'korma', turning it into a clean, comfortable place, with perhaps a bed and a tiled roof. The 'korma' has, in fact, been transformed into a 'women's room', where women meet during their difficult days, rest and share experiences.

Elucidating the SEARCH approach to improving the well-being of the Gonds, Sunanda speaks of the need to understand the essentials of Gond culture and build on their tribal heritage. "We don't laugh at the tribals, their beliefs or superstitions," she says. "Their medicine is mainly herbal medicine and black magic practised by traditional healers. We tell the people that they should also take our modern medicine. We encourage them to bring their healer along and try to train him in modern medicine. Now the traditional healers trained by us carry malaria slides and give tablets."

At the other end of the spectrum, Rani Bang has been working on the Gond tribal medicine, conducting scientific experiments to ascertain their veracity. She feels that the use of asafoetida (hing) to treat fungal infections of the skin; garlic for vaginal infections; and boiled guava leaves for anal fissures probably have a sound scientific basis.

Her book 'Goin', a Gondi word for 'friend', has a study of the flora of the area as seen through the eyes of Gond women and traditional healers. Her research has introduced her to a wealth of tribal knowledge and anecdotes. Yet, despite her wide exposure to tribal customs, there are times when she is left startled. Once she was taken aback when a woman casually pointed to a plant which she claimed was useful to "kill a husband"!

But how can people work so selflessly in an area of conflict? Don't Rani Bang and her colleagues sometimes feel intimidated by their difficult circumstances? Says Rani, the recipient of the National Award for Women's Development Through Application of Science and Technology, 2008, as well as many national and international awards, "What is there to fear? After all, everybody has to die some day?"

source: http://www.wunrn.com/news/2009/05_09/05_25_09/052509_india.htm

Why Mumbai belongs to all of us

By Tushar Gandhi Feb 07 2010

Tags: News

The “Mumbai for Ma rathi Manoos” wa r cry has once ag ain been raised to shore up the sagging political fortunes of the Thackeray family. When the Shiv Sena-BJP combine came to power in 1993, under the guise of reverting to the original name they replaced Bombay with Mumbai. I wonder when they will discard the anglicised Thackeray and revert back to their original Marathi surname Thakre?

According to ancient history, a grouping of seven islands comprising Colaba, Mazaga on, Old Woman's Island, Wadala, Mahim, Parel, and Matunga-Sion formed a part of the kingdom of Ashoka the Great of Magadh, ironically in North India. The Bhaiyas and Biharis whom the Thackerays accuse of being outsiders in Mumbai, come from the region, which was a part of Ashoka the Great’s empire. We judge everything according to history and the history of Mumbai proves that its earliest known ownership was with a North Indian.

The seven islands of Mumbai passed through many hands, the sultans of Gujarat, the Portuguese and the Bri tish. Every ruler left behind proof of residence in Mumbai. The Mauryans left behind the Kanheri, Mahakali and the caves of Gharapuri more popularly called Elephanta. The sultans of Gujarat built the Dargahs at Mahim and Haji Ali, the Portuguese built the two Portuguese churches, one at Prabhadevi and the other St Andrews at Bandra. They built forts at Sion, Mahim, Bandra and Bassien.

The Portuguese named the group of seven Islands ‘Bom Baia’, Good Bay.

The British built a city out of the group of seven islands and called her Bombay.

The original settlers of the seven islands, the Koli fishermen, worshiped Mumbaidevi, her temple still stands at Babulnath near Chowpatty.

The Kolis called the island Mumbai, ‘Mumba, Mother Goddess’.

In 1662, King Charles II of England married the Portu guese Princess Catherine of Braganza, and received the se ven islands of Bom Baia as part of his dowry. Six years later, the British Crown leased the seven islands to the English East India Company for a sum of 10 pounds in gold per annum. It was under the Engli sh East India Company that the future megapolis began to take shape, after the first war for independence Bombay on ce again became a colony of the British Empire. History has forgotten this but the first Parsi settler came to Bombay in 1640, he was Dorabji Nanabhoy Patel. In 1689-90, a seve re plague epidemic broke out in Bombay and most of the European settlers succumbed to it. The Siddi of Janjira attacked in full force. Rustomji Dorabji Patel, a trader and the son of the city’s first Parsi settler, successfully defeated the Siddi with the help of the Kolis and saved Bombay. Gerald Au ngier, Governor of Bombay bu ilt the Bombay Castle, an ar ea that is even today referred to as Fort. He also constituted the Courts of law. He brought Gujarati traders, Parsi shipbu ilders, Mu slim and Hindu ma­nufacturers from the mainla nd and settled them in Bombay.

It was during a period of four decades that the city of Bombay took shape. Reclamation was done to plug the br each at Worli and Mahalakshmi, Hornby Vellard was built in 1784. The Sion Causeway connecting Bombay to Salsette was built in 1803. Colaba Ca useway connecting Colaba island to Bombay was built in 1838. A causeway connecting Mahim and Bandra was built in 1845. Lady Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy, the wife of the First Baronet Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy donated Rs 1, 57,000 to meet construction costs of the cau seway. She donated Rs 1,00,000 at first. When the pro ject cost escalated and mo ney ran out half way through she donated Rs 57,000 again to ensure that the vital causeway was completed. Lady Jamsetjee stipulated that no toll wou ld ever be charged for those using the causeway. Today Mumbaikars have to pay Rs 75 to use the Bandra-Worli Sea link, conne cting almost the same two islands. Sir J J Hospital was also built by Sir Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy.

The shipbuilding Wadia family of Surat was brought to Bombay by the British. Jam shedji Wadia founded the Bombay Port Trust and built the Princess Dock in 1885 and the Victoria Dock and the Mereweather Dry Docks in 1891. Alexandra Dock was built in 1914. A Gujarati civil engineer supervised the bui lding of the Gateway of India. The Tatas made Bombay their headquarters and gave it the iconic Taj Ma hal Hotel and India’s first ci­vilian airlines, Air India. The Godrejs gave India its first vegetarian soap.

Cowasji Nanabhai Daver established Bombay’s first cotton mill, ‘The Bombay Spinning Mills’ in 1854.

By 1915, there were 83 textile mills in Bombay largely owned by Indians. This brou ght about a financial boom

in Bombay.

Although the mills were ow n ed by Gujaratis, Kutchis, Parsis and Marwaris, the wo rk force was migrant Mahrashtri ans from rural Maharashtra. Premchand Roychand, a prosperous Gujarati broker founded the Bombay Stock Ex change. Premchand Roychand donated Rs 2,00,000 to build the Rajabai Tower in 1878. Muslim, Sindhi and Punjabi migrants have also contributed handsomely to Mumbai. Mumbai is built on the blood and sweat of all Indians. Apart from its original inhabitants, the Kolis, everyone else in Mumbai, including Thackeray’s ‘Marathi Man oos’, are immigrants.

The writer is founder president, Mahatma Gandhi Foundation.

source: http://www.mydigitalfc.com/news/why-mumbai-belongs-all-us-365

Towards a self-dependent life

TIMES NEWS NETWORK

Pune: Asha school for mentally and physically challenged students, run under the aegis of the Army Wives’ Welfare Association (AWWA), Southern Command, has decided to impart vocational training to its students above the age of 18 years, to make them self-dependent.
Sunita Khanna, president, AWWA, Southern Command, said, “We plan to offer vocational training to these youths in the future. Many of our students are competent enough to be taught skills, which will then help them move towards self-reliant lives.”
Khanna was speaking on the sidelines of the annual day programme of the school organised at the Armed Forces Medical College on Tuesday. The theme of this programme was ‘Journey of evolution, from stone age to modern age’. Drama and singing performances were given by the students of the school.
Speaking to TOI, Chhaya Naware, principal, Asha school, said, “There are nearly 15 youths above the age of 18 at the school, who can get trained for vocational works.” Highlighting details of the training, she said, “Emphasis will be on vocational training, which will enable the students to earn their own money. They will be taught how to make candles, chalks, greeting cards, wrapping papers, carry bags etc. From the next academic session, we will also impart computer skills to select students.”
Naware said at present there are 133 students in the school. Out of this, 35 are students are wards of civil personnel. The students — including those with cerebral palsy, mentally challenged, autistic and hearing impaired — are provided with individualised training programmes.
Parent of a special child, Bhagvan Kanyal, said, “The society really needs schools like this. Thanks to AWWA, education for such children at a low cost is now possible.”
Started in 1993, the school reaches out to mentally and physically challenged children from families with civil and defence forces backgrounds both. It isequipped with several teaching aids for the development of special children. It runs on the guidelines of the Asha school, Delhi. Asha school, Pune, was registered in 1998 by the state government and recognised by the Union ministry of social justice and empowerment.
Physiotherapy for students
In an attempt to make its students healthier, the Asha school is planning to rope in a physiotherapist for the students. Trainers from various parts of the country, including Jaipur, will impart the training. TNN

source: http://epaper.timesofindia.com/Default/Scripting/ArticleWin.asp?From=Archive&Source=Page&Skin=TOINEW&BaseHref=TOIPU/2010/02/11&PageLabel=6&EntityId=Ar00602&ViewMode=HTML&GZ=T

Sathi reunites 42 kids with their parents...

Sathi reunites 42 kids with their parents

Laxmi Birajdar | TNN

Pune: Lots of play and a 30-day de-addiction-cum-rehabilitation programme helped the 42-odd children, who were picked up from the Pune railway station, in coming back to a healthy lifestyle and have a positive attitude towards life. The camp was held last month by NGO Sathi at Khanapur, near here.
Picked up by Sathi, which works towards rescuing missing children, they were reunited with their parents at a function held at the Don Bosco Youth Centre, Koregaon Park, on Wednesday.
The camp put the children through various sessions like exercises, meditation, reading, moral values, sports and cultural activities. “The camp helped me realise the ill-effects of consuming tobacco, alcohol, whitener and gutkha. I realised that one becomes bad because of bad company,” said Saddam, a teenager who lived on various railway platforms all over the country for over six months before being rescued by Sathi.
Thirteen-year-old Mohammed Shakeel from Orissa went missing after staying with his mother in Mumbai for 15 days. Fourteen-year-old Vikas Jadhav from Pune had been staying on various railways platforms for the last five years. Indulging in tobacco, gutkha and whitener, he would sweep trains and make Rs 50 to Rs 60 per day, which he would spend on his addiction. “I got into bad company and that’s what got me into bad habits. After undergoing the camp, I decided that I’ll never leave my mother again,” said Vikas, who now wants to pursue schooling. His mother, Nanda, couldn’t hold back her tears on being reunited with her son. “Vikas left home because his uncle used to beat him frequently. I tried to find him all these years, but to no avail. I will not to let Vikas out of my sight,” she said.
The 30-day camp was supported by the Department of women and child development. “These children are among the many we find on railway platforms regularly. The amount of time they have spent on railway platforms ranges from a month to over five years,” Arun Aravind, programme officer at Sathi, said.
Chief guest at the function, Snehlata Godbole, assistant commissioner, Department of women and child development, said the responsibility of the rescued children now lies with their parents. “Do not remind the children of their past mistakes. Children make mistakes because parents go wrong somehow, somewhere. So it’s better for the parents to take responsibility of their children and give them lots of love without blaming them anymore,” Godbole said. The parents who had come to pick up their children were also counselled by a counsellor from the Muktangan de-addiction centre.

source: http://epaper.timesofindia.com/Default/Scripting/ArticleWin.asp?From=Archive&Source=Page&Skin=TOINEW&BaseHref=TOIPU/2010/02/11&PageLabel=5&EntityId=Ar00502&ViewMode=HTML&GZ=T

~Sahayata: for flood victims

As massive floods in Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh and Maharashtra swept through the three Indian states, destroying homes, crops and livestock, many survivors lost virtually everything, finding it difficult to restore even the simple lives they once knew..The situation is grim and millions of people are badly affected.

Pankhudi Foundation has launched "Sahayata"- Collection Drive for flood victims from all the states who are in need of help and support from everyone in the country. Sahayata is a nationwide collection drive led by all ~Pankhudi chapters (Bangalore, Delhi, Hyderabad, Kolkata, Mumbai, Pune) and starting from 20^th October (Tuesday) - 30^th October (Friday) afternoon.

www.pankhudifoundation.org

http://pankhudifoundation.org/campaigns.shtml#sahayta

Pune Collection Centres:

Aundh Biswajith 9730012420

Kharadi Amruta 9850887477

Shivaji Nagar Wakdewadi

Shrikanth 9730580513

Hinjewadi Biswajith (IBM) 9730012420

Murthy (Ansys) 9225652268

Shrikanth (Tata Blue Scope Technologies) 9730580513

Pimple Saudagar Murthy 9225652268

Khadki Dipika 9923428470

Pallavi (CME-Khadki) 020-30621687, 9730489506

Vishranthwadi Jimmi 9011066997

Neha 9371123511

Magarpatta Krunal 9881066492

Viman Nagar Nivedita 9422105013

Wakad Prajakta 9860635407

Sinhgad College Prasad 9890714001

Bhosri, Pimpri Priti 9970025192

Parvati Ruby 9823239188

NIBM Shareek 9049930858

Pune University Swapna 9158900992

Deccan Umesh 9657702725

Hadapsar Yogesh 9011040424

The youngest headmaster in the world...

source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/8299780.stm

Around the world millions of children are not getting a proper education because their families are too poor to afford to send them to school. In India, one schoolboy is trying to change that. In the first report in the BBC's Hunger to Learn series, Damian Grammaticas meets Babar Ali, whose remarkable education project is transforming the lives of hundreds of poor children.

At 16 years old, Babar Ali must be the youngest headmaster in the world. He's a teenager who is in charge of teaching hundreds of students in his family's backyard, where he runs classes for poor children from his village.

The story of this young man from Murshidabad in West Bengal is a remarkable tale of the desire to learn amid the direst poverty.

Babar Ali's 'school' has some 800 students

Babar Ali's day starts early. He wakes, pitches in with the household chores, then jumps on an auto-rickshaw which takes him part of the 10km (six mile) ride to the Raj Govinda school. The last couple of kilometres he has to walk.

The school is the best in this part of West Bengal. There are hundreds of students, boys and girls. The classrooms are neat, if bare. But there are desks, chairs, a blackboard, and the teachers are all dedicated and well-qualified.

As the class 12 roll-call is taken, Babar Ali is seated in the middle in the front row. He's a tall, slim, gangly teenager, studious and smart in his blue and white uniform. He takes his notes carefully. He is the model student.

Babar Ali is the first member of his family ever to get a proper education.

Raj Govinda school is government-run so it is free, all Babar Ali has to pay for is his uniform, his books and the rickshaw ride to get there. But still that means his family has to find around 1,800 rupees a year ($40, £25) to send him to school. In this part of West Bengal that is a lot of money. Many poor families simply can't afford to send their children to school, even when it is free."It's not easy for me to come to school because I live so far away," he says, "but the teachers are good and I love learning. And my parents believe I must get the best education possible that's why I am here."

Chumki Hajra is one who has never been to school. She is 14 years old and lives in a tiny shack with her grandmother. Their home is simple A-frame supporting a thatched roof next to the rice paddies and coconut palms at the edge of the village. Inside the hut there is just room for a bed and a few possessions.

Chumki Hajra, a pupil at Babar Ali's school, describes her day

Every morning, instead of going to school, she scrubs the dishes and cleans the homes of her neighbours. She's done this ever since she was five. For her work she earns just 200 rupees a month ($5, £3). It's not much, but it's money her family desperately needs. And it means that she has to work as a servant everyday in the village.

"My father is handicapped and can't work," Chumki tells me as she scrubs a pot. "We need the money. If I don't work, we can't survive as a family. So I have no choice but to do this job."

But Chumki is now getting an education, thanks to Babar Ali. The 16-year-old has made it his mission to help Chumki and hundreds of other poor children in his village. The minute his lessons are over at Raj Govinda school, Babar Ali doesn't stop to play, he heads off to share what he's learnt with other children from his village.

At four o'clock every afternoon after Babar Ali gets back to his family home a bell summons children to his house. They flood through the gate into the yard behind his house, where Babar Ali now acts as headmaster of his own, unofficial school.

Lined up in his back yard the children sing the national anthem. Standing on a podium, Babar Ali lectures them about discipline, then study begins.

Babar Ali gives lessons just the way he has heard them from his teachers. Some children are seated in the mud, others on rickety benches under a rough, homemade shelter. The family chickens scratch around nearby. In every corner of the yard are groups of children studying hard.

Babar Ali was just nine when he began teaching a few friends as a game. They were all eager to know what he learnt in school every morning and he liked playing at being their teacher.

Now his afternoon school has 800 students, all from poor families, all taught for free. Most of the girls come here after working, like Chumki, as domestic helps in the village, and the boys after they have finished their day's work labouring in the fields.

"In the beginning I was just play-acting, teaching my friends," Babar Ali says, "but then I realised these children will never learn to read and write if they don't have proper lessons. It's my duty to educate them, to help our country build a better future."

Including Babar Ali there are now 10 teachers at the school, all, like him are students at school or college, who give their time voluntarily. Babar Ali doesn't charge for anything, even books and food are given free, funded by donations. It means even the poorest can come here.

"Our area is economically deprived," he says. "Without this school many kids wouldn't get an education, they'd never even be literate."

Seated on a rough bench squeezed in with about a dozen other girls, Chumki Hajra is busy scribbling notes.

Her dedication to learning is incredible to see. Every day she works in homes in the village from six in the morning until half past two in the afternoon, then she heads to Babar Ali's school. At seven every evening she heads back to do more cleaning work.

Chumki's dream is to one day become a nurse, and Babar Ali's classes might just make it possible.

The school has been recognised by the local authorities, it has helped increase literacy rates in the area, and Babar Ali has won awards for his work.

The youngest children are just four or five, and they are all squeezed in to a tiny veranda. There are just a couple of bare electric bulbs to give light as lessons stretch into the evening, and only if there is electricity.

And then the monsoon rain begins. Huge drops fall as the children scurry for cover, slipping in the mud. They crowd under a piece of plastic sheeting. Babar Ali shouts an order. Lessons are cancelled for the afternoon otherwise everyone will be soaked. Having no classrooms means lessons are at the mercy of the elements.

The children climb onto the porch of a nearby shop as the rain pours down. Then they hurry home through the downpour. Tomorrow they'll be back though. Eight hundred poor children, unable to afford an education, but hungry for anything they can learn at Babar Ali's school.