Dressed in heavy red lehengas and saris, with long veils covering their heads, and adorned with jewellery, my sisters were brought to the wedding altar by my aunts, who held their hands and sang local songs.
It was a happy day for my parents, but not for my sisters. They were just 16 and 11 years old and both had to drop out of school.
Growing up in rural Rajasthan, child marriages were very common. The elders in my community did not prioritize education for children. Instead, their focus was on children’s marriages and following social traditions.
For my parents, marriage was a sure way to lessen their “burden” as they no longer had the responsibility to take their children to school. But for my sisters, it was quite the opposite. The girls who were once full of dreams and laughter were now sad. They were no longer children but brides and wives in a stranger’s house.
They now had to cook for the large family, wash everyone’s clothes, and care for the cattle, leaving no time to think about their futures. When my younger sister expressed her interest in studying further, her husband and in-laws did not agree. Hence, she got divorced.
Despite her lost opportunities, my elder sister encouraged me to keep going to school. She pushed me to study and dream of a life beyond the village’s traditions. She convinced our parents to let me pursue a degree.
However, my school had very poor facilities. Students had to bring carpets to sit on, and during the rainy season, everyone gathered in one hall because the old rooms could collapse at any time. The teachers would often come into class and ask the students to stand up and read a chapter aloud while they knitted their sweaters. Neither questions nor creativity from students was encouraged.
I had many friends from Dalit and Adivasi communities. I saw their living conditions, and they struggled with necessities like food, water, and permanent shelter. Education was not a priority for their parents. All my friends from these marginalized communities left school after 10th standard. Most of them married before the age of 15 and had children. Now, they are being exploited in the labour market, with a few involved in liquor smuggling, and most struggling to find respectful jobs.
With constant encouragement from my sister and father, I completed my Bachelor’s degree and even an MBA. But when I looked back, I had no clue why I did an MBA; maybe because it was popular among my peers. My father even sold his land to pay for my college fees. I felt like a ship with no direction, just going with the flow, and now I wish I had someone to guide me back then.
During my studies, I began reading articles on the quality of education in India and how education is crucial for social change. Now, I understand, if my parents had been educated, they might have considered the consequences of child marriage. If my Adivasi and Dalit friends had been educated, they might have found decent jobs and avoided being trapped in antisocial activities.
In 2020, I had the opportunity to work with an NGO focused on digital literacy for government schools in Udaipur, Rajasthan. During my visits to the school, I remember Kamli, who said, “Sir, I want to become a teacher, but my parents want to get me married after 12th standard.” I spoke to her parents, but they were adamant about marrying girls at an early age.
Reflecting on my own school experiences, I saw that even 15 years later, the situation for students had not changed. They were still studying in old, leaky classrooms with no toilets, and teachers continued teaching with guidebooks, writing solutions on the board, and instructing students to copy them into their notebooks.
In these schools, no one was dedicated to understanding and addressing the challenges students faced or motivating them to pursue further studies. There was little regard for students’ interests. I felt compelled to break this cycle. That’s when I decided to learn career counseling and start an NGO to provide students from marginalized communities with access to quality education and the opportunity to live according to their dreams.