One Step at a Time: The Quiet Courage of Shilaben

At the far edge of Motikhervan village, in the sunbaked earth of Tapi district, stands a small house. Its mud-stained walls carry the scent of smoke and turmeric. A pair of slippers sits by the door. Inside, the fan turns slowly, cutting through the still air. Steel vessels are stacked in a neat kitchen corner; outside, water trickles from a tap as clothes drip-dry on a sagging wire. This is home for Gamit Shilaben, 38. A widow. A mother. A farmer. A woman who kept moving, even as life took things away.

Her husband passed away in 2022, after years of drinking wore away his body. Since then, she’s shouldered everything: two children, a household, and a field that doesn’t always answer her efforts. Her son, 18, works at a dairy. Her daughter, 15, braids her hair each morning and travels to Ukhalda for school, books pressed tightly to her chest.

The house is in Shilaben’s name, but the land remains under her father-in-law. No government water or power for the field. Each season, she asks neighbors to let her draw electricity from their lines. Sometimes it works, sometimes the crops dry up waiting for help.

Farming is uncertain, shaped by weather and goodwill. Still, she walks the fields, fixes pipes, and hopes for clouds. She keeps a few animals, wakes early to feed them, and keeps their shed clean. She saves a little each month—no one told her to, but she knows she must prepare for tomorrow.

Her biggest worry is her daughter’s education—fees, books, bus fare. Every rupee is counted twice. Some days, her elderly mother-in-law helps with a small pension. That quiet support keeps them afloat.

Shilaben never complains. She doesn’t talk about sacrifice. Her work speaks for her—cooking, farming, saving, enduring, and hoping.

She doesn’t dream of luxuries. Only of the basics her family needs.

She wants to learn stitching. "If I know sewing," she says, "I can earn with my hands". I won’t have to wait for rain or power. Her dreams aren’t grand, but they are steady. A claim to her land. Power for her fields. A few goats. A stitching class.

Nothing is fast or easy. But she moves forward, one seed, one rupee, one morning at a time.

In that quiet, steady rhythm lies her strength. Real and unshaken.

Shilaben’s journey is one of quiet strength and everyday courage — the kind our Single Mother Foundation is privileged to walk alongside. Together, we aim to create spaces where single mothers can reclaim stability, dignity, and new sources of income. If you’d like to be a part of this mission and know more, reach us at connect@singlemotherfoundation.org.

Brought to you by Nishant Joshi, in the hope that Shilaben's voice echoes beyond her village