Cradling Hope: Santhal mother educates 100 children in remote Purulia village

C.M. Paul

Jilingsereng, July 10, 2025: Nestled nearly 1,000 feet above sea level, some 25 kilometers from the nearest signs of urban life, lies Jilingsereng, a remote tribal hamlet in West Bengal’s Purulia district. Hidden deep within a forest zone and 15 kilometers from the main road, this village of some 60 Santhal families is marked by clusters of mud houses, rusted tin roofs, twig fences, and courtyards that blend into the rugged landscape. Life pulses with quiet resilience here—even stray goats wander among the shrubs in search of food.

In this secluded setting, the morning silence is broken by a stirring sound: India’s national anthem, sung in chorus by some 100 village children. The camera pans to show them standing in neat rows dressed in some kind of uniform dress, aged between two and eight, outside a two-room school built of mud and tin. At the front stands a village woman in a nondescript saree, holding a baby in her arms. She is Mrs. Murmu—a young Santhal mother, teacher, and the beating heart of her community.

Since 2020, she has been offering free education to all the village children, balancing teaching duties with household chores and childcare. Her two year old elder child sits nearby while she leads lessons with remarkable grace. Her husband works in a nearby field, ploughing a small plot of land with two oxen—earning just enough to feed the family while silently supporting his wife’s educational mission.

“We will be big officers, we will be doctors, we will be engineers!” Mrs. Murmu declares at the end of the assembly. “Yes we will be!” the children chant back, eyes wide with hope.

A visiting vlogger young man, moved by the scene, respectfully asks to touch her feet—a traditional Bengali gesture of reverence reserved for teachers and elders. She then instructs one of the older children to guide the visitor to her husband’s field nearby.

There, the camera finds a thin middle-aged man behind two bullocks, calmly tilling the earth. He verifies everything his wife shared.

“It is true,” he says. “My wife teaches them all. For free. If our children can dream of something bigger, that’s enough for us.” In an emotional scene the vlogger embraces the man—a moment that speaks volumes about shared sacrifice and belief in a better tomorrow.

In a region where formal schooling is often inaccessible, this mudshed has become a lifeline—a grassroots classroom thriving on love, labor, and collective hope. Even though electricity and piped drinking water has not reached the village, and healthcare is miles away, Mrs Murmu is blessed with sparse mobile phone connectivity. Yet inside this two-room sanctuary, learning flows daily like sunlight over cracked walls.

“If we wait for help from outside, our children will grow up without ever holding a book. So I started with what we had—our hands and our hope,” says Mrs. Murmu.

The blogger concludes the video saying, “Those moved by her mission can reach out directly to offer support at 9382396722. Books, stationery, financial aid, or simple words of encouragement can affirm her work and extend its impact.”

In a world often distracted by headlines, Jilingsereng whispers something eternal: that even in forgotten corners, a mother’s will to teach can reimagine destiny—and a village’s future can begin with a song.