HELTER-SHELTER

From caste-based exclusion to glaring infrastructure gaps, Gujarat's anganwadi centres are failing the very children they are meant to serve

- BY POOJA BIRAIA/PATAN & SABARKANTHA, GUJARAT

On a weekday afternoon, the an-ganwadi centre in Rozu village in Gujarat's Patan district is locked. A recent downpour has left the path slushy, and a large pool of stagnant water hugs the edge of the compound. Perched casually on the boundary walls are a group of men smoking bidi, playing cards and chatting. Not a child is in sight.

The structure looks like it is on the verge of collapse. Its roof is covered with tarpaulin sheets, the walls cracked and leaking, and right next to it lies a ruined structure that once functioned as the government's original anganwadi.

Moments later, Shilpaben Solanki, an anganwadi helper (AWH), and her senior Manjulaben Gauswami, an anganwadi worker (AWW), arrive with keys. “There are no kids today, which is why the centre was locked,” said Solanki, who is in her 30s. Both women speak reluctantly through their sari pallu, lifting it only when coaxed. Inside is a single large room with gunny bags of grains, a dusty cupboard, a table and a water dispenser. Except for a lone plastic slide, nothing indicates that this is a space for early childhood care and learning. The cupboard has medicines, syringes, first aid and drawing books neatly stacked up, but the women say they remain unused.

Recently, children had come for immunisation, but that was an exception. “Parents don’t allow their children to stay for meals,” said Gauswami. “They collect take-home rations and vaccines, but that's it.”

The reason? Solanki is a dalit, and caste discrimination continues to dictate who can touch whom—even in spaces meant for public service.