As the monsoon peaks, relentless downpours have lashed western Maharashtra, flooding countless regions. Yet, in the heart of Mandesh — a parched region spanning Sangli, Satara, and Solapur districts — the long, agonising wait for rain drags on.
“The wait isn’t just for today. It has lingered since the days of the Ramayana ,” the locals rue. This land, they believe, bears the wrath of Lord Ram himself. When the Lord roamed this region, he once sat under a tree to eat. But a sudden downpour ruined his meal, leaving him hungry. Angered, Ram shot an arrow into the sky, banishing rain clouds from this land forever. Since then, Mandesh has been shunned by rain clouds.
Mandesh is steeped in such legends — stories of a land cursed amid sugar-rich western Maharashtra, a region otherwise celebrated for its lush green fields and perennial rivers. The Satara District Gazetteer of 1885 tells of a time when the unforgiving Durga Devi famine gripped the region in 1396, a relentless scourge that ravaged the land for twelve years, forcing people to flee in desperation. Since then, a vicious cycle of drought and migration has been the harsh reality of the region.
Spread over 48,700 sq kms, this desolate expanse is marked by the scarcity of streams, rivulets, and rivers. Amidst this desolation, 84-year-old Suman Gaikwad, along with thousands of women like her, stands as a beacon of defiance. “We have forged our own destiny and written our own story,” Suman thunders, her voice piercing the still air like a clarion call. With strength and determination, she grasps the hands of the women gathered around her in the modest meeting hall of Mann Deshi Mahila Sahakari Bank in Mhaswad town of Mandesh region, urging them to share their own stories of resilience and hope.
Married off at just 15 and then abandoned by her husband, Suman has weathered countless droughts and waves of migration in the unforgiving land of Mandesh. With her only daughter now married and settled in Pune, Suman runs a modest shop near the town’s temple, proudly calling herself an “entrepreneur.” “Our bank has given us the strength to grow,” says the elderly woman, her eyes gleaming with determination. “Chetna Bhabhi has grander plans, so that the women of Mandesh can transform our story from one of despair to that of hope.”
Chetna Sinha, affectionately known as Bhabhi by the women of Mandesh, smiles self-effacingly. Her voice, calm yet determined, carries the weight of a thousand untold stories. “This is not my story,” she says. “It is the story of incredible women who inspire, teach, and guide me on this journey. These women taught me never to offer poor solutions to poor people. They think beyond survival; they think of wealth creation. Despite all the adversity they face, they rise. What drives them? Courage. Courage is their true capital.”
The Journey of Spirit and Courage
Courage is Chetna’s capital as well. As the founder and chairperson of Mann Deshi Mahila Sahakari Bank, her journey has been one of relentless determination. Born and raised in Mumbai, Chetna was just another college student in the 1970s when a call to action by Gandhian leader Jayaprakash Narayan ignited a spark in her. Inspired to serve rural India, she left behind city life and became deeply involved in land rights, and farmers’ and women’s movements.
It was during this time that Chetna found herself in the small village of Mhaswad in Satara district where she met Vijay Sinha, a passionate farmer-leader. Captivated by his spirit, Chetna made the bold decision to marry him and move to a village lacking even basic necessities like running water and sanitation. Her family and friends were shocked but Chetna’s resolve was unwavering.
Life in the village was challenging but Chetna was unfazed. One day, Kantabai, a blacksmith, approached her with a simple request: to open a savings account to secure her meagre earnings. Together, they went to a bank, only to be dismissed by the manager who deemed Kantabai’s savings of Rs. 10 per day too small. This fuelled Chetna’s determination to create a banking system that would serve women like Kantabai.
Despite initial setbacks, including a rejection by the Reserve Bank of India, Chetna and a group of determined women who learnt to read and write, reapplied to the RBI for the licence with renewed vigour. Their persistence paid off, and in 1997, Mann Deshi Mahila Sahakari Bank in Mhaswad became India’s first bank for and by rural women.
What began as a quest for a simple savings account has since grown into a movement that has transformed thousands of lives, embodying the power of collective will and the indomitable spirit of women determined to shape their destiny.
Thriving Financial Institution
Since its inception in 1997 with 1,335 members, Mann Deshi Mahila Sahakari Bank had grown to over 30,000 members by 2023-24, reflecting its increasing influence and community trust.
“The bank’s share capital rose from Rs. 8 lakh to Rs. 850.14 lakh, with investments growing from Rs. 11 lakh to Rs. 55.89 crore and deposits surging from Rs. 56 lakh to Rs. 159.94 crore. Loans and advances expanded from Rs. 43 lakh to Rs. 111.82 crore, highlighting the bank’s role in supporting livelihoods. The total business grew from Rs. 99 lakh to Rs. 271.76 crore. The bank achieved financial stability with a net profit of Rs. 25.84 lakh and a strong capital adequacy ratio of 17.5 per cent in 2023-24,” says Rekha Kulkarni, CEO of the bank. Despite a slight rise in gross NPAs to 8.25 per cent, net NPAs remained low at 1.01 per cent, and working capital increased to Rs. 187.68 crore, with a credit-deposit ratio of 69.92 per cent. With eight branches in seven districts of the State, the bank is spreading its wings across Maharashtra.
Behind the impressive statistics are inspiring stories of women entrepreneurs driven by grit and determination. Sunanda Phadtrae shifted from relying on moneylenders to building her vegetable business with the bank’s support. Vanita Pise overcame an early marriage to start a paper-cup business and later a flour mill, ensuring her children received good education, with one daughter now a government official. Hemlata Pise defied her in-laws by saving diligently and now runs a successful food outlet with her husband. Bahinabai Sagar, despite stiff family opposition, transitioned from a failed sari shop owner to running a thriving tea stall and now owns two flats, educating her daughters along the way.
The bank provides a range of affordable and flexible loan products designed to help women meet their diverse consumption and business needs. No collateral is required. Women can also form groups of 4-5 to apply for a loan together.
“Banking is not just about access to capital; we support them with market access, branding, packaging, and more,” says Chetna. “We need to create processes that integrate women into the entire ecosystem. Without this, many will drop out after the initial phase of their business. In rural areas, we’ve identified that weekly markets, temples, and festivals are key hubs of economic activity. Women must also embrace automation and mechanisation to scale their businesses and stay competitive with market trends.”
Chetna continues, “India is a country where small businesses are the backbone but there’s little innovation. We haven’t yet transitioned from micro-credit to micro-enterprise, and that’s where women need to take the lead. For women-led development to thrive, ease of doing business is crucial. Without it, the challenges are even greater. Women need access to capital, technology, science, and markets to succeed.”
Leading the way
Chetna recognised early on that rural women couldn’t visit the bank due to the cost of missing a day’s work. So the bank introduced doorstep banking. As they transitioned to digital banking, the smart-thinking women suggested using thumbprint biometrics instead of PINs. The bank’s partnership with ONDC has empowered women entrepreneurs by bringing their products online, expanding their reach.
Chetna and her team also founded the Mann Deshi Foundation, which supports rural women through holistic development initiatives. The Foundation launched a Women’s Business School with mobile classrooms, a Chamber of Commerce to help women grow their businesses, and various community programmes, including a radio station, a bicycle programme for girls, healthcare, a project to nurture young sporting talent and water conservation efforts.
There is another legend that whispers through the hills of Mandesh, one cherished deeply by the women. It tells of a time when Lord Ram, in a decision that broke hearts, decided to abandon Sita and commanded Lakshman to leave her in the forest. Obedient to his brother’s wishes, Lakshman brought Sita to the wild and untamed land of Mandesh. As they journeyed, Sita, weary and parched, asked for water. Lakshman, ever devoted, brought her a vessel of the purest water and placed it beside her as she lay down to rest. In her sleep, Sita’s neck, as if guided by fate, accidentally knocked over the vessel. A stream began to flow from the spilt water, and that stream, they say, became the Manganga river. The hill where this event took place is now known as Sita Mai’s Hill. Atop this sacred site stands a small temple, a humble tribute to Sita, whose sorrow and strength birthed the river that nourishes the land.
“The river may not flow year-round, and it may run dry in many stretches but we see the glass as half full, not half empty. This is not a cursed land — it’s the land of warrior women battling drought with determination,” declares Suman Gaikwad.
These women, like Sita herself, are resilient, forging rivers of hope in a landscape that many would call barren. The story of women and their bank is not just a story of financial empowerment; it’s a revolution in the making. These women are not merely changing the narrative of Mandesh —they are writing a new one, one where rural women stand tall as entrepreneurs, leaders, and changemakers in their communities. Their story is one of defiance of all odds, a testament to the strength that flows through this land.