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Childrens stories from our charity school in India

Some life stories written by the girls at P.U.S.S. (a charity boarding / residential school in Naharkanta, India) where the girls and young women are learning to read, write and do needlework because of donations made from the UK.

G. B.

I am Gouri Bhoi. I was born in Madhuban near Paradeep on the shore of the Bay of Bengal. At the age of six months my mother sold me to a leprosy patient for a few coins. Then, in 1999, my adopted father Sarat Bhoi died in the Orissa super cyclone, so I am alone in this world.

I have been living at the PUSS hostel and studying at the school for the last seven years. I hope this year that I shall pass my exams and then I shall be able to go on to further studies in college.

S. M.

My name is S. M. I was born in a leprosy colony in Naya Bazaar in Cuttack District of Orissa. My mother contracted leprosy when I was still in her womb. All her family members hated her for this, and my father divorced her. She moved here and there, begging to survive, and finally took refuge in the leprosy colony in Naya Bazaar where I was born. She works for the other patients in the colony, and is fed and clothed in return. I believe I have an elder sister, still living at home, but I have never seen her. Neither my father nor any other family member has ever visited me, because I was born in a leprosy colony.

I have been living and studying at PUSS for ten years. I enjoy the training and practice in needlework and patchwork that we receive, and I aim to earn my living with these skills and to stand by my mother.

...I aim to earn my living with these skills and to stand by my mother

A. M.

I am A. M., I am fourteen years old. Seven years ago my father came home drunk and demanded dinner from my mother. He had had no work for two days, and there was no money and no rice or any other food in the house.

My father had already sold the last cooking pot to buy liquor. He demanded food, louder and louder, and cursed my mother. She scolded him because he had sold the cooking pot. They went on quarreling for about two hours, and in the end my father poured kerosene over my mother and burned her to death.

My father was taken away by the police, but there was nobody to take care of me or my younger sister. A cousin uncle called M. M. who lives at a leprosy colony called Gandhi Colony in Cuttack District took us in, and then he brought us to the PUSS hostel in Naharkanta. We have been here for seven years now; I am in class seven and my sister is in class six. We are confident that the education we are receiving here will enable us to be productive citizens and to earn a reasonable living.

More life stories from the childrens school in Orissa India on our Childrens' Stories 1 page.

Thank all of you for all you do to help these three girls and the other 260 children from not dissimilar backgrounds who live and study at PUSS.
Malcolm Harper, Filgrave

© Friends of the Children of Orissa