Not Just a Training: How 39 Women in Sundernagar Discovered the Power of Their Own Signatures
The hall at the Farmer Training Centre in Sundernagar hummed with an energy you don’t usually find in government-run classrooms. On one side, a group of women huddled together, nervously flipping through crisp new notebooks. On the other, a few whispered to each other, practicing the words they had always wanted to say but never quite found the courage to. For two days, these 39 women from the remote corners of Kangra district weren’t just farmers or homemakers—they were students of their own futures.
It all began on July 30, 2026, when Dr. Ram Chandra Chaudhary, Principal of the centre, stood before them. But instead of a dry bureaucratic speech, he offered something far more valuable: validation. He told them that their work—growing vegetables, managing households, holding their communities together—mattered. And under the JICA-supported Crop Diversification Project (Phase-2), it was finally time for that work to get the structure and respect it deserved.
Over the next two days, the classroom transformed into a buzzing hub of real talk. Retired agriculture director Dr. P.L. Sharma didn’t lecture them about theories; he walked them through the messy reality of group dynamics. Retired bank manager Hari Singh Kaundal did something even more powerful—he demystified the dreaded bank counter. He showed them that a loan isn’t a favour; it’s a right. That a passbook isn’t just a piece of paper; it’s proof of their existence in the financial system.
Then came the nitty-gritty. Ledgers. Audits. Maintenance of records. Words that once sounded intimidating began to roll off their tongues with surprising ease. The resource persons—Dr. A.R. Sharma, Dr. Sudhir, Dr. Amar Singh Kaundal, and coordinator Dr. Naresh Kumar—broke down complex topics like financial discipline and leadership with one clear message: This is your group. Own it. Run it. Flaw it and fix it, because no one else will do it for you.
But perhaps the most electric moment of the entire two days wasn’t a lecture at all. It was when the women themselves stood up. One by one, they shared their stories—of groups that almost fell apart over petty disputes, of men who mocked their efforts, of the sheer exhaustion of saving pennies when every rupee felt borrowed. Yet, amidst the laughter and the occasional teary eye, there was fierce pride. They weren’t just talking; they were teaching each other.
By the time the final session wrapped up, something had shifted. The women weren’t just carrying back heavy folders of information—they were carrying a newfound swagger. They now knew how to audit their own books, how to navigate government schemes, and most importantly, how to sit across a table and demand their place in the agricultural economy.
This wasn’t just a training program. It was a quiet, powerful revolution—led by 39 women who entered a classroom unsure and left ready to rewrite the rules of their villages, one self-help group at a time.
