“I used to watch my sewing machine from a distance. Now, it’s my partner in building a new life.”
Just a few months ago, I wouldn’t have believed it if someone told me I would be learning to sew and actually loving it. I am Mangal (name changed), and I live in a small area called Harbour Line with my parents, my sister, and my brother.
Life isn’t easy. My mother has been unwell for a long time, my father can’t work because of a leg surgery, and my brother… he struggles with addiction. That leaves my sister to carry the weight of the family on her shoulders. I have always wanted to contribute, but my own challenges—difficulty walking and a speech impairment—made me feel like I couldn’t.
After I was released from the government shelter home, I was introduced to Kshamata’s Super 50 project. I joined after a lot of thought and counselling from their team. The first session I attended changed something inside me. I didn’t talk much at first, just sat quietly and listened. But something about the way the sessions worked—the care, the understanding, the encouragement—made me feel seen.
I had learned a little tailoring in the shelter, where I first said out loud that I wanted to become a tailor. I had a sewing machine at home but had never used it. With Kshamata’s guidance, I enrolled in proper tailoring classes. A month later, I stitched my very first dress and wore it to my life skills session. I still remember the smile on my face when a Kshamata team member pointed it out to everyone. “Look at Mangal. She made this dress herself.” The whole room clapped. For the first time, I felt seen—not for my struggles, but for my strength.
I never miss a Super 50 session. They don’t just teach life skills—they give me the strength to imagine a life where I can support myself, my family, and stand on my own. I have started looking at my future differently. I want to earn through stitching, make beautiful clothes, and share the burden my sister carries. I am also learning to manage my money, take care of myself, and make decisions for my future. My sewing machine is no longer a stranger. It’s my companion.