How You Can Keep the School Bell Ringing for Bengaluru's Most Vulnerable Children

“I didn’t go anywhere before. I would be at home or simply play in the mud. This is my first time attending a school. (Bohot accha lagta hai yaha aana) I really like coming here.” 

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This simple admission from a seven-year-old boy at Pragathi Charitable Trust captures a void many of us cannot imagine — a childhood without the structure, safety, or hope that school provides. 

For children from Bengaluru's migrant communities, life before Pragathi often meant being left behind while parents searched for daily wages, with older siblings sacrificing their education to care for younger ones.

But, beyond Bengaluru’s skyline of glass towers, a steady change has been taking root. For over 20 years, a steady voice of compassion has been challenging this cycle of neglect.

“They are all neglected by the education system because of their poverty,” says M Nagarajaiah, the founder of Pragathi Charitable Trust, his voice heavy with the weight of decades of grassroots work.

“The migrant workers are keen on their livelihood, while they understand the importance of education, they usually don’t care for it. If they get 10 rupees or 20 rupees per day through their child’s labour, they will be happy. They think, 'I am also without education, I am living.’ So, they don't bother about education.”

How one man decided to change what he saw

It was this heartbreaking cycle that Nagarajaiah decided to break. After providing relief to rain-affected families during the 2005 Bengaluru floods, he saw the deeper need. “We assessed the situation in the community, observed that there are a lot of school dropout children, children engaged in labour and rag-picking children.” 

With a resolve forged in 35 years of social service, he started Pragathi Charitable Trust.

Today, the trust operates three learning centres in Kempapura, Sumanahalli, and Amruthalli, specifically for school dropouts, non-school-going child labourers, and children engaged in rag-picking. 

Their mission is clear and transformative: after providing one year of nurturing training and basic education, they facilitate each child's admission into a nearby government school, setting them firmly on the path of formal education.

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Step into any Pragathi centre, and you step into a world of structured care. The day begins with the Indian national anthem, a soft, collective voice rising with hope. Under the guidance of dedicated teachers like Kamala Ma’am, a veteran of 20 years, the children are gently introduced to a world of learning and possibility.

The timetable, from 9:30 AM to 3:30 PM, is a careful blend of basics and joy.

“We teach subjects such as English, Kannada, Math and Hindi,” says Kamala Teacher. “After 1 to 1.30 lunchtime, afternoons are reserved for painting, dance, and drawing.”

This holistic approach is crucial. It’s not just about making them ready for mainstream government schools; it’s about making them feel like children. It’s in the games of hide-and-seek and badminton they play after lunch, and the Tom and Jerry drawings that adorn the walls.

Breaking the cycle, one child at a time

Ask the children what they love about the centre, and their answers are pure and telling.

“I like it. This school is very good. All the food is free,” says Kishan, highlighting how a simple meal can be a powerful incentive.

Their dreams, once stifled, now have room to soar. You won't find a child who says they want to be a rag-picker. Instead, you meet eight-year-old Devraj with a spine of steel, declaring, “I want to be a soldier… to serve the country.” 

You hear 11-year-old Saina, who recently relocated from Nepal, full of rhythm and hope, sharing her ambition: “I want to be a dance teacher.”

At its heart, Pragathi acts as a vital bridge, a facilitator between a marginalised community and the formal education system. This model isn't just hopeful; it’s proven.

“From our three centres, out of 110 children, 65 children have been admitted to formal schools this year,” confirms Nagarajaiah. Historically, about 60% of their children successfully transition and continue their formal education.

The success stories are living testaments to this impact. Take Aishwarya, whose parents are migrant construction workers. She joined Pragathi as a young girl, was mainstreamed into a government school, and has now beaten overwhelming odds to complete her M.Com. She is no longer defined by her parents' profession but is preparing for a career in teaching.

Then there is Bhima, another alumnus. He studied up to SSLC and now drives an auto. His path may seem modest, but his education provided him with the dignity and skills to build a stable, legitimate livelihood, breaking free from the precarious cycle of daily wage labour.

The fight to keep their classrooms alive

For two decades, Pragathi has been this beacon, sustained solely by the compassion of donors. The entire operational ecosystem — the food, uniforms, stationery, dedicated teachers' and helpers' salaries, and the rent for the buildings — is nurtured by public contributions.

But this lifeline is fragile. The cost to run one of these learning centres is just Rs 27,700 per month. This isn't an abstract figure; it's the direct cost of hope for dozens of children.

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When asked what would happen if the centres had to close, Nagarajaiah’s response is steadfast, yet reveals their vulnerability. “We don't think like that. We will not let that happen. We will not leave them or abandon them suddenly. We will look for something, ask for help, but try our best to make this initiative continue.”

Your chance to build a bridge

Nagarajaiah’s life mission is a testament to action over words. “I am not a computer man,” he says with quiet dignity. “I don’t want my services to go stagnant. If possible, I want to keep giving back to the grassroots.”

You can help turn his prayer into a promise. You can ensure that the next Aishwarya gets to complete her M Com, that the aspiring soldier and dance teacher have a foundation for their dreams, and that the quiet hum of learning in Kempapura never fades.

His dream for the children is the same as ours for our own. He has a heartfelt message for those who can help: “We are doing this for migrant workers' children. If there is any support, it will be a great help. We will deeply appreciate their contribution.”

You can be the reason a child trades rag-picking for a textbook. For just Rs. 27,700, we can fund an entire learning centre for a month, giving dozens of children a year of care, education, and a ticket to a formal school. No amount is too small for a contribution.

Let’s keep these schools of hope open. Donate today. Become the reason a child gets to write a new story.

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All images courtesy Pragathi Trust Bengaluru