After Losing Everything, She Found Her Strength in the Soil — The Story of Rashmi Durvey, Who Today Leads 2000 Farmers in MP

“If you ask someone for one hundred rupees, they will give you fifty, because they don’t believe you can return it.”

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When Rashmi Durvey says these words, she smiles faintly, not with bitterness but with pride. The 33-year-old from Senguda village remembers well the years when her life was measured in borrowed coins and unspoken dreams. 

Today, she stands as a Panchayats (Extension to Scheduled Areas) Act, 1996 (PESA) mobiliser, master trainer, social auditor, and farmer, leading more than 2,000 farmers towards a livelihood built on confidence and cooperation. Her story shows patience, loss, and the gradual awakening of self-belief.

A childhood of limited choices

Rashmi was born and raised in Senguda, a small village in Dindori district, Madhya Pradesh, surrounded by red earth and paddy fields. 

“I was illiterate. Before marriage, I did not think about the future. I did not know there was anything beyond working on the land,” she tells The Better India.

At 18, she was married, and her new life began much like her old one, days filled with cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the house. A year later, she gave birth to a daughter, and two years after that, a son. 

“When I got married, I had no plans,” she remembers. “We had four and a half acres of land, but no real income. My husband did odd jobs; sometimes he would drive someone’s vehicle for fifty or a hundred rupees. Even to buy clothes for a festival, we had to borrow money,” she explains.

Those early years were defined by dependence. “We had to ask for everything. I had no say in any decision, and I used to think that was how life would always be,” she adds.

The first door opens

In 2015, Rashmi joined the Jagriti Self-Help Group (SHG) through the National Rural Livelihood Mission (NRLM). Initially hesitant, she was soon drawn into the rhythm of regular meetings, savings, and discussions about improved agricultural practices.

“When they spoke about savings, I thought, what can women like us do? But I joined because I was curious.” The first step was to save ten rupees every week. “It does not sound like much now, but at that time, our income was so low that even ten rupees seemed impossible,” she explains.

Her family initially tried to stop her. “They asked me, ‘How will you save ten rupees every week when we barely have money for food?’” she remembers. “But I wanted to do this for myself and for my children. I felt that even small savings could help us in the future.”

The group facilitator explained that once a member had accumulated some savings and received a grading, they could access a loan from the Cash Credit Limit (CCL), a fund to support members with small, accessible loans. In Madhya Pradesh, these CCL loans are provided to Self-Help Groups under the DAY-NRLM scheme, with banks offering the funds and the state supporting through interest subvention and other incentives.

“I did not understand what the grading meant,” she says, “but I knew that it was a step forward. Saving even a small amount each week could open doors I had never imagined.”

However, challenges soon appeared. With the household struggling to make ends meet, there were weeks when saving ten rupees felt impossible. 

“Sometimes I had to choose between feeding my children or putting aside that small amount,” Rashmi recalls, her voice getting heavier. “It was frustrating, and often I stopped saving because it felt like I couldn’t keep up.”

This initial struggle planted a seed. Even in those moments of difficulty, she began to see the value of discipline, of small steps toward independence. 

A new chapter with PRADAN

In 2018, her journey took a decisive turn when she joined PRADAN (Professional Assistance for Development Action). Through PRADAN, she gained exposure to Integrated Natural Resource Management (INRM), advanced farming techniques, and community mobilisation strategies.

She began mobilising farmers in Senguda to experiment with regenerative farming and improved practices. “In the beginning, only about one hundred and fifty farmers joined,” she recalls. “Many people doubted me. Some said, ‘Why should we listen to her? She is just a woman.’”

She persisted, visiting families one by one, explaining how cooperation could help them earn more. “Sometimes I came home in tears,” she admits. “But I told myself that if I gave up, no one would ever trust women again.”

Gradually, the results spoke for themselves. As she trained additional community resource persons (CRPs), her reach extended beyond her village. Now, she is working with around 2,000 farmers across several villages. “It didn’t happen in a day,” she says. “It took years of patience and faith.”

Turning Earth into opportunity

During the kharif season, she encourages farmers to grow leafy and seasonal vegetables and to sell them within the village. “Taking the produce outside is costly and uncertain,” she explains. “So I thought, why not sell here and build our own market?”

The idea worked. The local trade created a circular economy and brought farmers an additional income of Rs 12,000 to Rs 15,000 a season. In 2021, she supported a few farmers in growing two vegetable crops on just 0.07 acres of land, helping them earn Rs 35,000. 

“When they saw the money in their hands, they believed,” she says. “After that, no one asked why I was doing this work.”

For farmer Bharti Marko, seeing the results changed her outlook entirely. 

“When Rashmi guided me to plant vegetables on my small plot, I thought it would fail,” Bharti says. “But the profit came sooner than expected. It gave me hope, something I had never felt before.”

Another farmer, Mamta Podwal, nods in agreement. “Rashmi showed us that we did not need to wait for outsiders to help us,” she says. “She taught us to make small changes that can bring big results. Now I earn almost double what I used to, and my children can go to school without worry.”

Recognition and social auditor success

Rashmi’s leadership did not go unnoticed. In 2021-22, she became a social auditor, earning about Rs 10,000 a month. 

“At first, people did not accept me,” she recalls. “They laughed when they saw me using the computer. But when they realised I could handle the work better than most, they started to respect me.”

She topped the social auditor selection test that same year. “I never imagined I would come first,” she says, smiling. “But many questions were about INRM — things I had already learnt through PRADAN.”

Today, she audits projects across ten Panchayats, identifying gaps and promoting transparency. “Earlier, Panchayat officials didn’t trust us,” she says. “Now they request our team specifically. That trust took time to build.”

Menaka Bhoi, an executive at PRADAN who has worked with Rashmi for years, praises her achievements. “Rashmi is known for her integrity,” she says. “She notices every detail and resolves conflicts calmly. People trust her because she is genuine.”

“Farmers in her network now earn roughly Rs 70,000 a year,” Menaka explains. She has encouraged over two hundred and fifty farmers to grow vegetables on 15 acres of land. Her work has inspired more women to take leadership roles in the block.”

Loss and renewal

Rashmi did not always experience the highs of life, even after joining the Jagriti Self-Help Group and later working with PRADAN. Just as her career seemed to be taking flight, tragedy struck, reminding her that the path to change is never without hardship. 

Her husband passed away suddenly, leaving her alone with two young children. “For a while, I lost all strength,” she says. “I did not want to work; I did not want to meet anyone. Everything seemed pointless.”

But her children pulled her back. “I looked at my daughter and son and thought, if I stop now, what will happen to them? I had to keep going,” she says.

She channelled her grief into work. “When I was in the field, when I saw crops growing, it gave me peace,” she says. “Work became my healing.”

She began producing vermicompost, creating an additional income stream while promoting sustainable farming. “It is good for the soil and for our pockets,” she says. “Every handful feels like new life.”

Her children became active participants in her work. “Sometimes my daughter helps me measure the compost,” she says, laughing. “My son counts the vegetable crates. They are proud when people say our crops look healthy. It gives me joy to see them grow with me.”

The women who followed

For Mamta, a farmer and later a secretary of her village organisation, the mentorship was life-changing. “Rashmi has a rare energy,” Mamta says. “She does not order people; she encourages them. Watching her gave me the courage to become a master trainer myself.”

“With my increased income, I helped build our house,” she says. “Before, I never imagined my name could be on any papers.”

Bharti smiles as she recalls her early sessions with Rashmi. “I was shy, and Rashmi is talkative,” she says. “She made me speak up during NRLM sessions. Later, we sat for the social auditor exam together and both passed.”

Bharti now works as a livelihood facilitator, earning about Rs 13,000 a month. “Whenever I organise training, Rashmi helps me mobilise people,” she says. “If I get stuck, she is the first person I call. She always says, ‘Don’t stop; try again.’”

Both women have seen attitudes in their villages change. “Earlier, people laughed when women talked about work,” Mamta says. “Now, I manage activities in 12 villages. People call me ‘madam’. It still surprises me.”

Rashmi’s greatest achievement may not be the number of farmers she has trained, but the shift in thinking she has nurtured. Exposure visits and recognition from district authorities have further strengthened her resolve. “When visitors come from other places to learn from us, I feel proud,” she says. “It shows that Senguda has become an example.”

Standing tall

Today, Rashmi earns her own living, raises her two children, and continues to lead training programmes across the region. She rides her scooter through the village roads, stopping to speak with farmers, her confidence unmistakable.

“I used to depend on others for every little thing,” she reflects. “Now I take my own decisions. I want every woman to feel that strength.”

Senguda is no longer the village it once was. Fields that once stood fallow now yield vegetables and leafy greens. Women keep records, manage meetings, and discuss marketing strategies with ease. Farmers now understand the value of cooperation, sustainable agriculture, and timely savings.

Rashmi looks at the fields and smiles. “I never imagined I could make such a difference,” she says. “If I can, any woman can. All it takes is courage, patience, and the belief that we are capable.”

All pictures courtesy PRADAN