The Safe Haven of Saheli Kaksh: Kritika’s Story
Saheli Kaksh has become a blessing for girls in Bihar
- English
- हिंदी
Fourteen-year-old Kritika is oscillating between excitement and anxiousness outside her classroom in Adarsh Ramanand Middle School. The excitement of going to her new school and the anxiousness of leaving her old school. The excitement of meeting her new teachers, new classmates further from her home is understandable. But she is not able to explain the anxiousness of leaving her old school. It isn’t about leaving her classmates as most of them will join her in new school. It isn’t about the teachers too. It is something that Krirtika may be hesitant to talk about but is very sure about its significance in her life.
“This school gives me safety. I feel secure. That school wouldn’t provide me that safety,” says Kritika.
Words get jumbled followed by uneasiness before she blurts out in the company of her friends who feel .
“That school I am going to doesn’t have a Saheli Kaksh. A room that is our own. A place that gives us the safety and security ion those days of month,”
But life, like a traffic signal, blinks red when you least expect it. Kritika’s moving to a new school soon—a place without a Saheli Kaksh. The thought twists her stomach. “My new school doesn’t have it,” she confesses, her words heavy with longing. “No trust, no safety, no feeling of being cared for. I wish I could stay forever, but I have to go. Such is life.” She imagines a world where every school has a Saheli Kaksh, where girls like her don’t have to trade comfort for progress.
Her mother, Seeta Devi, sees the change. “Kritika used to miss school—three, four days a month,” she recalls, her hands busy with chores. “Now, she goes every day. The Saheli Kaksh—it’s a blessing. The girls talk about these things openly now, no shame.” absenteeism has faded like morning mist, replaced by laughter and learning. Seeta smiles. “Even the boys understand.”
Across the schoolyard, Sweety Kumari, Kritika’s friend, nods. “When UNICEF came, everything shifted,” she says, her eyes bright. “The Saheli Kaksh, clean toilets, hand-wash stations—it’s like we’re part of something bigger.” Hiradan Kumar, a boy with a shy grin, chimes in: “I’m proud of this school. We went from two toilets to fifteen. The girls have their own space now, and it makes me happy.” Ankith Kumar adds, “There’s a drum of clean water outside every class. No more thirst interrupting our lessons.”
The Bihar Swachh Vidyalaya Puraskar (BSVP) is the magic behind this transformation. It’s not just an award—it’s a revolution, benchmarking 60,000+ schools across 50 indicators: water supply, toilets, handwashing, waste management, and safe spaces like Saheli Kaksh. Adarsh Ramanand shines as one of 54 award-winning schools, a beacon of dignity. Shreya Suhani, another student, beams: “We harvest rainwater, compost wet waste for our garden, separate plastics. Our school fights climate change, and it feels powerful.”
Ontari Sudhakar Reddy, a WASH Officer at UNICEF India, calls it a movement. “We’ve guided BSVP from concept to reality—technical support, heart, and soul.” B Kartikey Dhanji, IAS State Project Director at Bihar Education Project Council, agrees: “It’s raised awareness—health, hygiene, attendance, especially for girls.” Sunil Kumar, Bihar’s Education Minister, adds, “UNICEF’s partnership made this a success. We’re grateful.”
The ripple reaches beyond the school gates. Jalaj Lochan, the principal, marvels at the community’s embrace. “Parents donate soap, water jars—whatever we need.” Motilal Thakur, a Purnea resident, planted a mango tree for his granddaughter’s birthday. “We’re tied to this school,” he says. Madhuresh, another local, nods: “We contribute, we care. It’s progress.”
Kritika stands at the edge of her universe, gazing at the Saheli Kaksh one last time. “This school is the best,” she whispers. “Empowered girls and boys mean an empowered Bihar.” She’ll carry its lessons—dignity, safety, trust—to her new world, hoping it learns from this one. In her mind, she’s still there, resting in that room, dreaming of a day when every school catches up.
Inside these walls, the Bihar Swachh Vidyalaya Puraskar (BSVP) has spun magic. It’s not just a trophy—it’s a revolution, a benchmarking beast with 50 indicators across seven realms: water, toilets, handwashing, maintenance, training, behavior change, community ties. Adarsh Ramanand is one of 54 award-winners, a star among 60,000+ schools, crowned for excellence. “It’s changed everything,” says Sweety Kumari, Kritika’s friend, her eyes alight.
“UNICEF brought the Saheli Kaksh, clean toilets—fifteen now, not two. Boys see it too.” Hiradan Kumar nods, proud: “The girls have their space. It’s right.”
Ankith Kumar points to the hand-wash stations, gleaming new. “We wash before we learn,” he grins. “And water drums sit by every class—thirst doesn’t interrupt us now.” Shreya Suhani chimes in: “We harvest rain, compost waste for our garden, sort plastics. The award made us warriors for the earth.” The BSVP’s seven pillars—water supply, sanitation, hygiene—prop up this school like a fortress. Saheli Kaksh is its crown jewel, breaking taboos with emergency kits and a bed that says, “Rest, you’re enough.”
Kritika’s principal, Jalaj Lochan, beams. “The award’s a mirror—we see our best selves. Fifteen toilets, waste sorted, water caught from the sky. It’s dignity.” The school buzzes with change—absenteeism’s a ghost now, chased off by safety. “Girls talk about periods openly,” Sweety says. “Boys listen.” The award’s 50 markers—operation, maintenance, behavior shifts—have turned this place into a beacon. “We’re not just learning,” Ankith adds. “We’re living better.”
For Kritika, the BSVP isn’t abstract—it’s the Saheli Kaksh’s pulse. “This school’s the best,” she whispers, clutching her books. “It cares.” She dreads her new school, a blank slate without the award’s glow, without her haven. “I wish they’d win it too,” she dreams, “build a Saheli Kaksh, make it safe.” Inside these walls, the award’s legacy shines—clean water, proud toilets, a garden fed by waste, a room that holds her when she falters. It’s a universe she’ll carry, even when the signal turns, and she must leave.
