Listen to thisA Tale of Transformation
In this piece, I introduce Shohagi, a 30-year-old care leaver who embodies the virtues of care, compassion, resilience, and responsibility. Her story transcends the typical success stories of care leavers, showcasing how a children's home can play a crucial role in shaping an extraordinary human being. Shohagi's journey illuminates the power of nurturing environments to cultivate individuals who deeply value people, culture, and faith. It emphasises the often-overlooked qualities of kindness, sacrifice, and an unwavering sense of responsibility towards others. Her story challenges the conventional Western standards of 'success or better outcome' for care leavers and prompts us to reflect on what it truly means to be human.
Nurturing a Compassionate Soul
Shohagi spent approximately 11 years in a children's home dedicated to caring for the children of sex workers. These children are often marginalised from birth, their very identities stigmatised by societal prejudice. During this time, she blossomed into a kind-hearted young woman, known for her unwavering support of those in need. Her smile had the power to lift spirits, and her ability to mask her own pain while tending to others' needs was remarkable, earning her the affection of peers and teachers alike.
Shohagi's talents extended beyond her compassionate nature. She excelled in dancing, singing, martial arts, and acting, coupled with exceptional leadership skills. These abilities made her an integral part of the children's home's cultural team, crucial in fostering community acceptance.
Breaking Barriers: The Power of Cultural Integration
Life in the home was challenging as it became a battleground for acceptance in an initially hostile community. The local community resisted the establishment of the children's home, fearing that the children from the home would bring the perceived ‘moral corruption’ of their mothers into their own neighbourhoods. They believed that these children, being the children of sex workers, would introduce negative influences such as drugs and trafficking and disrupt family values in the local schools and social fabric. Prejudices were deep, and initially, it seemed impossible for these children to integrate into society. However, through perseverance and innovative approaches, the organisation behind the home gradually gained acceptance.
However, the resistance was palpable, and these children were left marginalised when local schools refused to admit them. In response, the children's home took a bold step by creating its own primary school and health clinic, offering education, medical care and extracurricular activities for the broader community, slowly breaking down barriers.
The formation of a cultural team within the children's home became a game-changer. Trained by prominent instructors in various arts, the team's performances gradually won hearts at local, regional, and even national levels. The children, once shunned, became the pride of the community. Shohagi played a leading role in this cultural revolution, helping to dispel prejudices and showcase the potential of children from disadvantaged backgrounds. The community no longer saw these young people as burdens, but as treasures.
The Dream of a Brighter Future
During my PhD research on care leavers, Shohagi participated as a young adult. After leaving the children's home, Shohagi found her calling as an instructor at the District Shilpokola Academy (Academy of Arts). Despite the modest salary, she found joy in her work, nurturing her dream of becoming a TV actress. However, like many dreams, hers was met with obstacles.
Stepping Into Adulthood: Trials and Triumphs
Shohagi fell in love and married, hoping to start a new chapter in her life. Unfortunately, her life took a challenging turn when her marriage ended after just a year. Her husband's family's rejection due to her background, coupled with her husband's substance abuse issues, led to a painful separation. She tried to help him, even drawing on her painful memories of her mother’s addiction to ganja (marijuana) when she lived in the brothel. As she tearfully recounted,
‘I know the impact of drugs; my mother used ganja when she was in the brothel. I witnessed and experienced the exploitation and abuse of drugs when I was young. Now, I find myself in a similar situation, trying to save someone from addiction, but failing.’
But the deepest challenge came from her brother, a young man struggling with mental health and addiction.
Family Bonds and Unwavering Responsibility
Years passed before we reconnected. During our conversation, she revealed her daily battle to save her brother, who had been struggling with mental health issues since childhood. He was mute, often running away from their mother and disappearing for weeks at a time. He had returned home during the COVID-19 pandemic, gravely ill. He was diagnosed with liver cirrhosis, tuberculosis, and other health complications related to his lifestyle, all stemming from his long-term drug abuse.
Despite facing overwhelming odds and the need for a costly liver transplant, Shohagi never hesitated to sacrifice her job, health, and savings to save her brother. The healthcare system in her country provided limited support, so she took him to the Christian Medical College in Vellore, India, for a second opinion and treatment. Despite the bureaucratic and financial challenges, she showed remarkable strength. She navigated through securing passports and visas and dealing with an unfamiliar medical system while remaining steadfast in her devotion to saving her brother's life. Shohagi persisted by stating,
‘I have no one else. My elderly mother cannot care for him, and I am the only one who can. I am doing everything I can to keep him alive.’
The Battle Continues: Unwavering in the Face of Adversity
For the past four years, Shohagi has fought tirelessly for her brother’s survival, rushing between hospitals and doctors to keep him alive. ‘I can't let him die,’ she told me, her voice filled with exhaustion but also fierce determination. ‘I am doing everything I can.’
Her brother has recovered from tuberculosis, but they are facing the daunting challenge of finding a liver donor for his cirrhosis operation, as well as covering the cost of the operation. If no donor can be found, she has already decided to donate part of her own liver if it matches.
Her financial resources are nearly depleted, and she now partially relies on donations from friends, the parents' organisation of the children’s home, and a generous Japanese couple who treated her and others from the home as their own children. All these people have been a lifeline for Shohagi during these difficult times.
A Philosophy of Care: The Power of Nurturing Environments
In our continued conversations, when asked about Shohagi’s career, personal life, and motivations, her response is profoundly moving. Despite her heavy burden, she does not see herself as a victim. She said,
‘What can I do, Sir? My home taught me never to abandon someone in need, especially my own brother. We learned to see each other’s problems as our own and to celebrate each other’s happiness as if it were our own. We were taught to be good human beings, to support and help others, and to take responsibility according to our abilities.’
Her dedication was not born out of obligation but out of a deep-seated love and the lessons she had learned in the children’s home. It was there that she was taught the importance of helping others, taking responsibility, and showing kindness even in the face of adversity. These values guided her every decision as she continued to care for her brother despite the overwhelming burden. Her words reminded me of the powerful influence that a nurturing environment can have on a child’s development.
In a world where success is often measured by wealth, status, and achievements and for young care leavers, success or outcome is measured by their ability to secure a job, independent living, and integrate into society. Shohagi’s story offers a different perspective, challenging these narrow definitions and revealing a deeper, more meaningful measure of achievement.
Shohagi's success lies not in material wealth, but in her boundless capacity to care for others, particularly her ailing brother, even at great personal cost. This young woman, who once dreamed of becoming a TV actress, now finds her purpose in being her brother's keeper, navigating the complexities of his health issues with unwavering dedication. When asked if she regretted sacrificing her own dreams, her response was both simple and profound:
‘I don't regret anything. My home taught me to be grateful for what I have and to never abandon those who need me. My religion also encourages me to follow this path. If God asks me what I have done for my brother, I want to be able to say I did everything I could.’
These words underscore the lasting impact of her upbringing in the children's home. The values instilled in her - gratitude, compassion, and responsibility - have shaped her into a beacon of humanity.
Shohagi's moving statement, ‘Home didn't teach us to be ungrateful,’ reminds us of the profound influence that children's homes can have in nurturing compassionate individuals. Her story demonstrates that with the right environment, these institutions can create not just independent adults, but caring citizens who enrich society.
In Shohagi's selfless devotion, we see a different kind of triumph - one that may not be quantifiable in traditional terms but resonates deeply with our shared humanity. Her journey challenges us to broaden our definition of success, recognising the immeasurable value of kindness, love, affection, gratitude, and responsibility towards others.
Ultimately, Shohagi's narrative invites us to reconsider what truly constitutes a life well-lived. It compels us to look beyond surface-level achievements and appreciate the profound impact of a life dedicated to the service of others, reminding us of the potential within each individual to make a meaningful difference in the world, regardless of their beginnings.
Reflection: Challenging Conventional Narratives
Reflecting on Shohagi’s story, it is evident that her journey transcends the common narratives often associated with children’s homes, particularly those perpetuated in Western literature. Much of the existing research focuses on the negativity of institutional care—highlighting issues like poor outcomes or success in terms of education and health, weakened family ties, lack of individualised love, lack of preparation for independent living, abuse, neglect, and attachment issues. While these challenges may be partly true in different contexts, Shohagi’s life offers a compelling counter-narrative that forces us to consider a broader, more nuanced view of success.
Shohagi’s resilience, compassion, and deep sense of responsibility challenge the negative portrayals of children's homes. Her story raises important questions about how we measure the ‘success or outcome’ of care institutions. Should success be solely defined by the avoidance of failure, or should it also include the development of individuals who contribute to the world with empathy and strength?
This discussion is particularly relevant in the context of Western research, which often approaches institutional care with a focus on deinstitutionalisation. But Shohagi’s story prompts us to rethink this stance. Her experience reflects that, under the right conditions, children’s homes can nurture not just survivors but individuals who enrich the world. Shohagi’s unwavering dedication to her brother, despite the emotional and social barriers she faced, stands as a testament to the potential of care institutions to foster remarkable qualities like resilience, love, and compassion.
The question posed — whether qualities such as Shohagi’s would be recognised as a ‘better outcome’ in Western literature — challenges us to reconsider how we view institutional care. In Shohagi’s case, success is not measured by financial status or educational accolades but by her ability to care deeply for others and to offer unconditional kindness.
Conclusion: The True Measure of ‘Better Outcome or Success’
Shohagi’s life challenges the conventional narratives of institutional failure, encouraging us to broaden our definition of success outcomes, particularly for care leavers. Her story calls for a paradigm shift, urging us to recognise that care institutions, when functioning well, can foster not only functional adults but extraordinary individuals who bring love, compassion, and resilience into the world. Shohagi’s journey is not just a personal triumph but a powerful reminder of the profound impact that human kindness and care can have on society.
