
Nita Bhil still remembers the moment she thought her whole life would fall apart.
Her parents—bricklayers from a marginalized caste in India—had arranged a match for Nita’s sister. To save money, they’d decided to have Nita, their youngest of seven daughters, married off at the same time. She was 14 years old.
“I was shocked; I couldn’t believe my ears. I saw my dreams crumbling before me,” says Nita today, four years later. “You see, when a girl is forced to marry early, her hobbies, passions and choices are halted forever. But we have dreams, too. And we deserve the chance to fulfill them. I decided I could not lose hope.”
Nita boldly rejected her parents’ plan; after much debate, they agreed to delay her wedding.
Today in Kutch—a culturally and ethnically distinct region of Gujarat, in western India—one in five girls is forced to marry before she turns age 18. Most of these girls bow to the immense social and family pressure, built from generations of women denied agency over their own lives.
But AJWS grantee organization SETU Abhiyan has found a unique and effective way to give girls in Kutch the power to choose and it’s rooted in what SETU staff call “the soul of the Indian democratic system.”
In India, the world’s largest democracy, villages self-govern through locally-elected and government-funded councils called panchayats. Female voices are historically sidelined in panchayats, even though a Gujarati law requires 50 percent of members must be women.
In 2020, SETU piloted the Balika Panchayat initiative (“balika” is derived from the Sanskrit for “girl”)—village councils of eight to 10 adolescent girls and young women, based on the panchayat model. Balika Panchayats allow girls to gather, learn leadership skills, and effect real change in their communities. These councils get small unrestricted budgets to create community projects benefitting women in their village, and SETU helps foster a connection between the girls and local leaders. This power to choose shifts how girls see their place in the world—from wives and mothers to equal Indian citizens with voting power and important perspectives.
“A young woman in a village in Gujarat—she may not understand what freedom or choice means, and so she doesn’t know what’s possible beyond a life that’s been decided for her,” says Kavyamshi Biswas, SETU’s documentation coordinator. “She has no conception of what else her life could look like. But through our programs, she takes a first step towards a different future. We crack the door open to allow a space where she can dream.”
SETU established a Balika Panchayat in Nita’s small village, Lohariya, in 2022. Nita was elected as its leader and got to work immediately. Nita knew there were major barriers to education for girls in Lohariya; the nearest high school is in another village, and parents didn’t want their daughters to walk. Her friends were being forced to drop out—pushed one step closer to an early marriage.
Under Nita’s leadership, her Balika Panchayat lobbied the Gujarat state government to provide transportation to school; Lohariya’s adolescent girls are now driven to school in a van.

Nita’s Balika Panchayat also created nameplates for homes in Lohariya, announcing the name of each family’s eldest daughter—a small but impactful shift in a society where families place greater value on sons than daughters, and where households are identified by the father or husband.
“If the family doesn’t have a daughter, then the nameplate has the daughter-in-law’s name. And if there’s no daughter-in-law, then it’s the mother,” says Nita.
With SETU’s support, Lohariya’s village panchayat offered a meeting space for the Balika Panchayat. Now 16-years old, Nita sits at her desk proudly, her back straight and hands clasped. She’ll finish high school soon and hopes to continue her studies. She’s still not ready to get married; there are too many important things to achieve. She wants to study political science and then, she says, become India’s prime minister.
“I tell girls: You must fight for your future. No one can fight for your future if you won’t,” she says.

This drive has always defined Nita. But through the Balika Panchayat, she’s transferred it to her friends and neighbors—girls who could’ve been brides, but today are students and have long-term goals beyond marriage. The impact isn’t lost on Nita.
“When I’m at home, I’m a daughter. When I get married, I’m a wife. But when do I get to live for myself? When will I be defined by just being me?” she asks. “That’s what the Balika Panchayat gives us: a place to be ourselves. To feel that freedom, and the power and strength that come with it.”
