The Antara Foundation Blog

Cearet Sood The importance of the First 1000 Days was only a concept that I had studied in my second year of college, as a part of the Indian Economic Development module. Infant Mortality Rate, Maternal Mortality Rate were just definitions to me, meant to be reproduced in examinations. I was taught their relation to Gross Domestic Product and per capita growth. Economics, at university level in India, is taught without emotion. We learn everything as it is. As it exists, without ever questioning it. This lack of discourse, instead of demotivating me, encouraged me to find answers for myself. Post college, I studied liberal arts. There, I had to unlearn a few things which I had been taught as an economics student. Never assume things or preexistence of knowledge and never take things as they come- always question, protest, demand, rage - do whatever it takes to initiate change. If you want to be a changemaker, you have got to start from the start. By this, I mean to say that one needs

Prerna Gopal. As women, we are always expected to be careful of our surroundings, of who we talk to, and even how we conduct ourselves. Our path is often blocked by the constant fear of finding ourselves in situations that lead to trouble. Thus, things that come easily to the other half of society often elude our grasp, making it all the more difficult to survive in a man’s world. Being raised in a liberal family that sees no difference between men and women, makes me question the marginalization of women, every day. I came across a situation during my field visit to a sector called Manoharthana in Jhalawar, Rajasthan. An inebriated man walked into a sub-centre, that was being run by an Auxiliary Nurse Midwife (ANM) and also had a few male patients present. He threatened all those who sat in the clinic and forced them to tend to his self-induced problem. Eventually, the other male patients managed to pacify this nuisance of a man and handled the situation as they felt necessary. It

Mahadevan Nambiar As a student of public policy, the Antara Foundation held a lot of promise because of their approach of building solutions that are can be scalable and sustainable. This would mean that every intervention envisions the foundation working with the government and eventually institutionalizing the solutions it builds. Furthermore, the fellowship offered an opportunity to be on the field, something which was sorely missing from my otherwise sanitized and academic experience. Primary Health Centre, Dahikhera (Khanpur Block) For the fellowship, I am placed in the field office located in Jhalawar, Rajasthan. It was an interesting time to be in Rajasthan as the hot sun gave way to clouds full of rain. I was assigned to work on the pilot of the Rajsangam App in the Khanpur block of the district. The work itself was pretty straightforward- I was to assist with the rollout of the app, work on improving the use and adoption rates as well as monitor its progress. The ap

Adityavarman Mehta Having conducted field research on maternal, child health and nutrition outcomes in South Africa, Ghana and Kenya, I was eager to explore these issues in low-resource settings in India. As a sociology and global health student, working for the Antara Foundation in Rajasthan presented a number of captivating intellectual challenges because of the extensive literature on Rajasthan’s skewed sex ratio and abysmal maternal and child health indicators. With the responsibility of eighteen Anganwadi Centers in Khanpur, Jhalwar, I was excited about the potential for discovery afforded by this opportunity.    Maraita village, where I work with four Anganwadi Centres According to the 2011 national census, Rajasthan had a sex ratio of 928 females per 1000 males. [1] Although Rajasthan’s sex ratio has improved from 909 females per 1000 males in 2001, the preference for the male child is indisputable. Jhalawar, in particular, has witnessed a more skewed sex ratio com

Owais Shafiq Late monsoon drizzles and an overcast sky prevails, the loo has left for better days. Walking through narrow roads of un-finished houses, the Accredited Social Health Activist (ASHA), the Anganwadi Worker (AWW) and the Auxiliary Nurse Midwife)(ANM) each make their way to work with an android tablet in their grasp - a strange sight for most locals in Khanpur block of Jhalawar district. Anganwadi Centre - Bhatwasi village The Antara Foundation, in partnership with the Government of Rajasthan and Tata Trusts, introduced the AAA (ANM, AWW ASHA) program which has been scaled across the state. The AAA program revolves around the idea of the frontline health workers corroborating each other’s data and working together for better service delivery . An AWW in Rajasthan is expected to maintain eleven registers to document the services she provides. These registers include her village survey, immunization, information on pregnant women and more. An ASHA, is r

Owais Shafiq Participating in the Antara Foundation’s fellowship program is my attempt to develop a field-based thought process.   At Antara Foundation, scalability is a necessary thought. A scalable solution is one that can be replicated easily to reach a larger population. This approach seems logical to me, because scalability also encompasses program sustainability, replicability, and long-term impact. The last few months have exposed me to the difficulties of thinking and working with the question - ‘can this solution be scaled’ while on the field.   Spending a significant part of your day in the field with constant community interaction exposes you directly to the cause and effect of many existing fault lines. There is an urge to create a positive impact which brings to life the struggles involved in the scalability approach.   Scalability is a big win and big wins require a significant amount of time. Room for solving what might be micro issues in the grander scheme of

Rithika Sangameshwaran A Community Health Centre (CHC) the third point of contact in the rural public health system “The maternal mortality rate (MMR) of India is 167 per 100,000 live births and the infant mortality rate (IMR) is 34 per 1000 live births. These are important statistics and you must know them”, the professor instructed a class of about forty listless students aspiring to be public health professionals. I dutifully made a note of those numbers and kept memorising until they became embedded in my head. After all, these are important statistics a public health professional must know. But the thing with statistics is that they are just numbers. Although undoubtedly important numbers, they also make it easy to overlook that there are people- real people behind these numbers. In my opinion, these evolving statistics, while extremely instructive, fail to capture stories. Maybe that is why they are forgettable. I believe that it is always the stories one remembers,

Priyadarshini Roy It was the cusp of winter and summer in Jhalawar- February 2018. I was looking forward to the field trip this time, especially after the long hiatus. The country side is always refreshing. New ideas come to mind effortlessly, and one feels completely rejuvenated. It is also a good time to take stock of strategies/activities that the government is implementing or we, as an organization are supporting. More often than not, it is gratifying to know that your efforts are in the right direction, while sometimes it makes you sit up and question whether things are really going the way you had envisaged. I was visiting a Village Health and Nutrition Day [1]  (VHND) at an Anganwadi Centre (AWC) in Khanpur block of Jhalawar. The Auxiliary Nurse Mid-wife (ANM) was carrying out her routine activities like immunization, ante natal care, etc. Intermittently, young children below 6 years were being weighed. Little babies, oblivious of what was coming cooed and giggled in thei