During summer, the sun beats down on the Terai plains of Nepal, pushing temperatures past 40 degrees Celsius. In middle of this warm weather stands Bindu’s cozy, one-storied home, its mud-and-stone walls topped with a tin roof. To the left of the front yard lies an open Aaran – a traditional blacksmith’s workshop, quietly carrying the legacy of her in-law’s family’s craft. Inside Aaran, Bindu and her husband were working together, making sickles while sweat running down their foreheads.
In Nepal, blacksmithing has long been a livelihood practiced almost exclusively by the Dalit community. For generations, Dalit blacksmiths have made essential tools such as ploughs, sickles, knives, and household implements, providing services to farming and rural life. Despite their skill and contribution to society, they have historically faced caste-based discrimination, making blacksmithing not just a trade but also a symbol of resilience and cultural identity.
Through the PAHUCH project, DCA in Nepal and its local partner, the Feminist Dalit Organisation (FEDO), are working to challenge caste-based discrimination, combat gender-based violence, and aware people of their human rights.
Belonging to a Dalit community was hard back in our days, we were openly discriminated against, but times are changing, and people’s attitudes toward us are gradually improvingBindu shares.
Responsible Member of Family
“I lost my mother while studying in grade nine, and with that loss came the immense responsibility of caring for my five younger siblings. I was born into a large family of ten children: five brothers and five sisters from two mothers,” says 55-year-old Bindu Kumari Sunar, the eldest among the siblings.
She had no choice but to take care of my siblings.
“The youngest was only three years old. The eldest brother had already gone to India at 15, so I guided the younger ones with their studies, looked after them, and made sure they could stand on their own feet throughout my youth,” she shares.
During this period, a relative connected her to the Informal Sector Service Center (INSEC); a human rights organisation. “They are my saviors as they helped me get admission to school into class six after completing an old-age preliminary class,” she adds.
She further elaborates, “They even gave me books and copies, which we siblings shared. But I could not continue after class eight because my mother was sick all the time, and I had to take care of her.”
Her family depended on agriculture and goat rearing for livelihood.
“For a short time, I also went to Kathmandu and worked in a carpet factory, but I returned because the environment felt unsafe for young girls like me,” she says.
Despite her interrupted education, she gained exposure through organisations working for human rights. In her early twenties, she recalls receiving an opportunity to participate in an AIDS awareness training conducted by the INSEC.
“I even went to Okhaldhunga district of Nepal, where we performed street dramas on AIDS awareness. It was my first time leaving my hometown, and it exposed me to a different geographical region, as I had lived my entire life in the Terai.”
Traveling to a new place and meeting people from different communities enhanced her confidence. “I truly enjoyed my time there, and I remember feeling the happiest during that visit,” she chuckles.
Struggles to break patriarchal norms for Freedom
“In 2001, I got married at the age of 31, which was considered a late marriage by Nepali societal standards. I became the second wife of my husband,” she recalls, remembering her past.
Her husband and his first wife came together to propose this marriage.
“The reason behind it was they had this superstitious belief, and they believed that couldn’t have children and thought it was his fate to marry two wives. But I felt the real reason might be a fertility problem and I was the right person hoping to have children. Much later, after Bindu got married, she took her husband and his first wife to the hospital for diagnosis, and we discovered that there were actually fertility issues, not karma (fate). After treatment, both of them gave birth to two children (a son and a daughter) each. With such superstitious beliefs, there was more to this marriage. Marrying into a family that held faith in such beliefs brought additional hardships to Bindu’s life. Her marriage came with multiple unpredicted restrictions.
“Before marriage, I was an independent leader, working freely in the community for women’s human rights and decision maker for my family. After marriage, I was confined to household chores. I was not allowed to go outside even restricted my dress and I was forced to wear traditional dress- dhoti/sari instead of kurta suruwal. I was told not to speak with anyone, whether women or men. My role was limited to cooking, collecting fodder, rearing animals, and doing household chores. I felt suffocated,” she shares.
I had to obey my husband, my in-laws, and his first wife’s orders. I lost my freedom and independent life in a blink.
Her siblings were furious with me when I decided to marry with a man who was already married to another woman. But she realised that she was getting older and she feared that she would be alone as all of her siblings were building families of their own.
“They even told me that throughout my entire life, I had made only wrong decisions for them and myself, and my heart ached when they said such hurtful words.” But as the eldest, she felt they were just furious and wanted the best life for her.
Even after her marriage, she was still responsible for each of her siblings. According to her, the turning point came when she met the Feminist Dalit Organization (FEDO).
She shares, “Mamata Sister from FEDO encouraged me and even convinced my husband to let me become a member of the Sangarsha Dalit Women’s Group. She also motivated me to attend numerous trainings organised by FEDO.”
At first, her husband was furious. He didn’t want her to go outside the house or meet new people. But she gradually convinced him. It took her some time, but her patience and persistence won in the end.
She told her husband, “Women like us should learn so we can teach other women from the community who are backward and unaware of their rights. We should learn more about our rights, caste-based discrimination, gender-based discrimination, and so on so that we can help each other in need. We should not stay silent under any kind of discrimination or gender-based violence. Gradually, he gave in and allowed me to participate in trainings organised by FEDO.”
After receiving her husband’s support and permission, Bindu’s life became easier while living with her in-laws and his first wife. Now, she lives separately in her own house with her children, apart from her in-laws and her husband’s first wife.
Leadership, Learning, and Digital Literacy
Bindu gradually emerged as a respected leader in her community.
“FEDO motivated me to raise my voice against gender-based violence, caste-based discrimination and child marriage. Nowadays, if there is any violence case, people come to me. Survivors trust me.”
Her activism extended to her own home. “My husband wanted to marry off our daughter recently. But she wanted to join the police force, and I stood by her.”
“I told him: ‘If something happens to her after marriage, I will take everyone behind bars.’ My daughter said no to marriage, and I supported her. Now she is 20 and preparing for the army.”
Bindu’s confidence grew stronger through multiple trainings.
I took trainings on gender-based violence, caste-based discrimination, legal awareness, digital literacy… I even received climate change orientation and leadership skills training. These sessions gave me knowledge, but also courage to stand up and speak
For me, one of the most transformative experiences was the digital literacy training.
She shares an incident, “We live near a river, and I learned how to use mobile phones to receive flood alerts and stay safe. I also learned about cybersecurity. Once, my cousin almost got scammed. She had received a new phone from her daughter in Poland, and a scammer video-called her pretending to be a doctor. At first, he sympathised with her for being a widowed woman and even shared his own story of losing his wife. Later, he showed her jewelry in a video, claiming it once belonged to his late wife and that he wanted to give it to her so he could feel as if his wife were wearing it. Hearing this, I concluded it was a total scam. I warned her that once the jewelry was sent, he would ask for money under different pretexts.”
“Another day, she came running to my home, saying that he had actually asked her to deposit 40,000 rupees at the airport to release it. She hadn’t believed me when I warned her before, but now she understood. I told her to delete the number and block it, and I also advised her never to answer unknown numbers again and report it to cybersecurity.”
She smiles as she explains, “Earlier, I couldn’t understand the term digital literacy. Now I know how to protect myself and others from such incidents.” She assures digital literacy made her feel smarter and safer.
She also contested as a candidate for ward member in the last local election.
“I lost the election, but it was a learning and inspiring experience. I would love to stand-up as a candidate in next election too.”
Before, she was under my husband’s control. Now, it is the opposite. Before, she hesitated to fight for her freedom. Now, people come to her seeking support. She has earned the trust of the community.
Dilemma of a Blacksmith Family
Dalits in Nepal, are systematically excluded, marginalised under the caste system, continue to face deep-rooted social, economic, cultural and political rights despite constitutional guarantees of equality. They are often excluded from opportunities in education, employment, and decision-making, and face challenges such as untouchability, limited access to land, and poverty. Caste-based discrimination was officially abolished by the Government of Nepal in 1963 with the introduction of the Civil Code (Muluki Ain), which declared all citizens equal before the law. And Nepal enacted the Caste- Based Discrimination and Untouchability (Offense and Punishment) Act to criminalize such discrimination on May 24, 2011. Likewise, Nepal declares untouchability free nation on 4th June 2006, however, the data shows 79 Dalits have been killed due to caste-based discrimination and survivor family denial justice. Dalit women and girls are especially vulnerable sexual violence, rape, forced marriages, often with little or no investigation.
“I am born into a Dalit community, where I have endured caste-based discrimination years back. I have witnessed people treating us as untouchables.”
In 2013, Bindu joined the Sangarsha Dalit Women’s Group, saving NPR 20 monthly. “We have been able to save up to 200 rupees per month now and in case of emergency we use the money with minimal interest rate.”
FEDO supported her husbands with NPR 25,000 for our blacksmith business. Her husband makes agricultural and household tools like- khukuri, sickles, Axe, Hasiya, Kitchen Knife and many more. She helps with the fire. She claims, “But the work is very hard.”
She doesn’t want her son to continue this business because it is exhausting, and people still discriminate against them as Dalits by calling them Lohar (in an insulting way). She wants her son to have a different profession than his father though this has been their traditional generational business.
She painfully recalls: “People use the tools we make every day in their kitchens, yet they discriminate us based on our caste and wouldn’t let us enter those kitchens because we are Dalit.”
Alongside the blacksmith work, livestock and skills training gave her new pathways.
“FEDO gave me three goats in 2013. I raised them, sold some, and earned money. Recently, I sold one for NPR 19,000 and bought a cupboard. I also participated in goat-rearing training, which taught me how to manage their diet and health properly. These small trainings made a big difference for a farmer like us.”
The women’s group has also grown stronger. With their savings, they now have funds that women can borrow at minimal interest and start small business.
She proudly shares, “Our municipality along with our FEDO’s group was able to leverage 3 lakh rupees annually from the Dalit budget through community action plan for three years continuously. With that, we distributed goats and gave boutique and tailoring training. Some women now run small businesses. Before, women depended on their husbands. Now, we earn ourselves.”
Digital literacy also strengthened her group’s work. Now they record their savings digitally, share updates through mobile groups, and even contact local government offices online. Earlier they had to wait for someone else to read or write for them, now they can do it themselves.
A Change Starts from Home then Transforms Community
Bindu’s journey reflects not just her personal transformation, but the broader change she has helped spark in her community. Through her leadership in the Sangarsha Dalit Women’s Group, she has empowered women to claim their rights, manage finances, and access new skills, creating opportunities to be financial independent and freedom of choice where none existed before.
Her advocacy against caste-based discrimination, gender-based violence, and child marriage has gradually shifted attitudes, motivating respect and inclusion in a society long divided by tradition. The women who were able to get the skills training now earn their own income, make decisions for their households, and use digital tools to connect with local authorities, building a network of informed and confident citizens.
Bindu’s endless efforts and persistence reflect how collective action and knowledge-sharing can transform not only families, but entire communities, turning resilience into a force for social change.