Baskets, Blisters, and a Mother's Will: Vanitaben's Quiet Fight for Her Sons

In Motikhervan, where the sound of rickshaws and sugarcane cutters blends with birds at dawn, Kotvaliya Vanitaben quietly begins another day. She is 35, a widow, and a mother of two sons. Their home stands on the land of her in-laws, a place where five lives intersect, but where joy is often measured in small, hard-won moments.

Life was different once. When her husband was alive, laughter filled the rooms and dreams felt within reach. But his struggle with alcohol ended his life too soon, and the loss left Vanitaben to carry the family forward on her own. In the shadows of grief, new difficulties grew—her father-in-law’s words sometimes sharp, the days long and work demanding. The burden of supporting her boys fell on her alone, and even the smallest expenses for their schooling felt out of reach.

Her eldest son, forced by circumstance, left school behind and now drives a rickshaw through the village lanes, his childhood shortened by the weight of responsibility. The younger son, who studied till eighth standard, now goes with his mother to cut sugarcane in the fields. Vanitaben’s hands are rough from labor and from weaving bamboo baskets, her skill passed down from generations before her. With each basket, she stitches hope for something better.

They have a home, though not much land. Money comes in small flows: a widow pension, a bit set aside in the post office, and what she can earn through labor. She dreams of more—of learning sewing, of owning a sewing machine, of being able to work from home so she does not have to leave her children to seek bamboo in distant forests. Her in-laws do what they can, and sometimes, just that little support keeps the family going.

Vanitaben wishes for a life where her sons can finish their education, where she can provide for their futures and their marriages, where the home has a toilet and the dignity that comes from stability. She is interested in animal husbandry, hoping it might open a path toward self-reliance. But for now, every day is a careful balancing act between what is needed and what is possible.

In Vanitaben, you find the kind of strength that endures quietly, without fanfare. She wakes each morning, not for herself, but for her sons, determined that hardship will not be the end of their story.

At Single Mother Foundation, we walk with women like Vanitaben, whose hands create hope from simple materials and whose love keeps families together even in the hardest times. True change grows from neighborly support, from giving women the tools and training to earn and provide for their children’s dreams. Every story is a promise that dignity and opportunity can belong to all. If you wish to help mothers like Vanitaben shape a brighter future, write to connect@singlemotherfoundation.org.

Brought to you by Nishant Joshi, who believes that stories like Vanitaben’s carry hope into the corners of the world where it is needed most.