This story is not just about numbers or government schemes. It’s about the unspoken strength of a tribal society quietly grappling with a generational crisis and how a mother’s warmth, even if borrowed, can heal a wound as deep as malnutrition.
Nestled in the rugged hills of western Madhya Pradesh, Jhabua is a district many in the country would pass over on the map without a second glance. But this land, with 93.6 per cent of its people living in rural isolation and 86.8 per cent belonging to the Bhil tribe, has something rare: an ancient soul, one that survives on simplicity, silence, and the soil beneath its feet.
The people here live slow lives. Their homes are humble, their dreams often put on hold for the sake of daily survival. Most families depend on marginal farming and labour, with barely enough to feed their children. Many parents are forced to migrate to cities for work, leaving behind their little ones in the care of ageing grandparents, often too frail and too overwhelmed to meet the physical and emotional needs of growing children.
And for years, this silent neglect gave rise to a loud epidemic: malnutrition. The kind that stunts not just bodies, but futures.
Ironically, this is the land that gave birth to Chandra Shekhar Azad, the fearless revolutionary who defied the British Empire. His legacy of resilience still echoes in the hills, but for a long time, Jhabua seemed to have forgotten how to fight.
Until recently.
In a remarkable turn of fate, Jhabua is once again being spoken of, not for its afflictions, but for its quiet revolution. A grassroots campaign called “Moti Aai,” meaning ‘Badi Maa’ has turned the tide against malnutrition with a staggering 95 per cent success rate. So impactful is the initiative that it has earned praise from the Prime Minister of India.
Moti Aai’s of Jhabua
But this wasn’t just another health scheme handed down by the government. It was born out of empathy and cultural wisdom. Spearheaded by Collector Neha Meena, the campaign was rooted deeply in the understanding of the local community’s emotional fabric.
She noticed a simple truth: when parents leave for seasonal work, their young children don’t just lose food, they lose care, touch, and affection. This absence, coupled with poverty, left many children dangerously undernourished.
Meena’s answer was beautifully human. Instead of deploying external help, she turned to the tribe’s own wisest resource, its grandmothers.
They identified elderly women from every village, women who were respected, warm, and grounded in Bhil traditions. And called them “Moti Aai”, a term that commands reverence in tribal households. These women were then trained in basic childcare, nutrition, and hygiene, and armed with traditional knowledge like Ayurvedic oil massages and herbal food recipes.
What followed was nothing short of a miracle.
Unlike official workers or outsiders, these elderly women were already trusted. They didn’t need formal introductions. Mothers knew them. They had sung lullabies in village weddings and helped deliver babies. So when they came knocking, asking to care for a child, doors opened without question.
Every child received not just food, but a mother’s presence. Moti Aais sang songs in Bhili, told stories, and made sure each child was fed on time. They offered love that healed more than hunger. They gave warmth that no packet of nutrients could provide.
In just a few months, malnutrition began to visibly decline. Children who once looked weak and dull began to glow with health. Their eyes sparkled again. Villages that had once surrendered to despair began to hope.
And as these women, many of them grandmothers themselves, walk barefoot through the dusty lanes to reach “their” children, they carry more than food and oil. They carry the silent power of motherhood.
Moti Aai is not just a campaign. It is Jhabua remembering its own strength.
The Ground Visit
In the first week of June, this correspondent travelled to Jhabua, not to witness a statistic change but to feel the pulse of a silent transformation unfolding in its remote hills. What emerged from the journey was not just a report on a successful government initiative, but a window into the resilience of a society that has quietly fought decades of deprivation with the help of love, trust, and an extraordinary idea.
The journey from Indore to Jhabua, approximately four hours by road, offers glimpses of development in this largely rural region. As the cab navigates smooth roads flanked by vast green fields and towering windmills dotting the horizon, it’s hard to imagine that malnutrition is one of the gravest issues haunting these hills. The route is scenic and tranquil, deceptively so.
Upon reaching Jhabua city, the correspondent made her way to the District Collector’s office, located about five kilometres from the city entrance. However, as the collector was out of station during the visit, the Women and Child Welfare Department’s project in-charge, Priyanka Bhunkar, was assigned to guide the visit and share insights.
Understanding Jhabua
Jhabua’s topography is hilly and fragmented, with families living miles apart on isolated mounds referred to as palli in the local dialect. Each palli is essentially a mini-village, farmland surrounds each home, and families often occupy and cultivate the land around their dwellings like miniature farmhouses.
Agriculture is the primary occupation here, though the arid soil offers limited yields, mostly maize, cotton, pulses, gram, and wheat. This is barely enough to sustain families, forcing many young couples to migrate to Gujarat, particularly Ahmedabad, nearly 250 km away, in search of work.
Those remaining men from the region work as labourers in nearby fields or towns, while women frequent weekly markets to earn a modest income. In the absence of parents, children are now largely dependent on Anganwadi centres. But earlier, this gap in care created a breeding ground for chronic malnutrition.
Moti Aai, come for rescue
Before delving deeper into the ground reality with Priyanka Bhunkar, it’s important to understand what Moti Aai is and why it matters.
The initiative began with the systematic mapping of malnourished children in the district. Health workers and Anganwadi staff conducted surveys to identify children either suffering from or at risk of malnutrition.
Moti Aai, literally meaning “Elder Mother,” refers to a trusted elder woman, often a grandmother or experienced mother, living in the same palli or hamlet as the malnourished child. Once identified, these women are contacted by Anganwadi workers, provided with basic training, and entrusted with the child’s care in the absence of the parents.
Their role is holistic: from feeding the child with protein-rich meals to providing Ayurvedic oil massages, maintaining hygiene, and offering the emotional warmth only a grandmother can. The Anganwadi centre monitors their progress regularly, turning it into a collaborative caregiving model rooted in tradition.
The impact in numbers
The campaign has not only changed lives but has also delivered statistically verifiable success.
According to data accessed by Organiser, a comprehensive survey conducted in July 2024 covered 1,35,503 children. Of them:
1) 1,18,710 children were found to have a general nutritional status.
2) 9,078 children were identified with Moderate Acute Malnutrition (MAM).
3) 1,613 children fell under the most vulnerable category: Severe Acute Malnutrition (SAM).
4) These 1,613 SAM children became the primary beneficiaries of the Moti Aai program.
Thanks to the initiative, most of these children have now been successfully brought out of the danger zone.
To support them, a total of 1,325 Moti Aais were identified and trained across the district.
As of July 2025, out of 1,950 severely malnourished children under the program, an astonishing 1,130 have shown significant recovery, all without the use of any additional budget.
How Dadi-Nani turned into Moti Aai?
What makes Moti Aai exceptional is not just its cost-effectiveness or outreach, but the emotional intelligence behind its design. It does not impose an external model but draws from the tribal community’s own ethos, respect for elders, community-led caregiving, and trust built over generations.
As Priyanka Bhunkar explained, the campaign succeeds not because of top-down directives but because it is woven into the social fabric. There is no resistance when a Moti Aai takes a child in her lap. There’s no need for persuasion or propaganda. It is care, at its purest.
Priyanka explained with a gentle pride, “In Jhabua, entire families migrate for work. Children are left behind with grandparents or distant relatives. To ensure they don’t suffer in silence, we gave birth to the Moti Aai initiative.”
But this was not just about naming a scheme. It was about nurturing a child from head to toe, feeding, massaging, monitoring, and more importantly, loving them like a grandmother would.
Identifying the root of the crisis
The malnutrition problem in Jhabua runs deep, rooted not just in poverty but in generations of practices shaped by isolation, migration, and cultural beliefs.
Priyanka laid out the painful truths behind the crisis, truths that have silently weighed down the childhoods of thousands. There’s an excessive reliance on rituals and traditional healers during childbirth or when a child falls ill, often replacing timely medical intervention. Teenage pregnancies and child marriages continue to be common, leading to young, undernourished mothers giving birth to low-weight infants. The introduction of solid food is often delayed beyond six months of breastfeeding, while institutional treatment for sick children is avoided due to deep-seated superstitions. Many women go through pregnancy without proper care, and the practice of having multiple children without adequate spacing only worsens the situation. With limited income and many mouths to feed, families struggle to ensure nutrition.
The consequences are evident in the fragile bodies of children across the region. But it became clear that treating malnutrition in Jhabua would take more than just medicine; it needed a revival of compassion, care, and community involvement. It needed trusted hands and warm hearts.
Creating the Moti Aai channel of care
It began with the most crucial step: mapping malnutrition. Through a comprehensive district-wide survey, children showing signs of Moderate Acute Malnutrition (MAM) and Severe Acute Malnutrition (SAM) were identified. These vulnerable children, often invisible in scattered hamlets and hilltop settlements, were brought into focus for the first time in a systematic way.
Once identified, the next step was to find the Moti Aai, the heart of the initiative. From within each palli or hamlet, elderly women known for their wisdom and compassion.
The selected women were then guided through training the heart and hand. Practical sessions were held both locally in Jhabua and in Indore, involving pediatricians, nutritionists, and health officials. The training taught them not just clinical care, but nurturing practices rooted in local traditions. Their responsibilities were clear but profound: feed the child immediately upon arrival at the Anganwadi, give regular Ayurvedic oil massages (maalish), monitor their meals, and ensure a fourth, nutrient-rich meal, often in the form of homemade laddoos crafted from available grains in anganwaadi.
“Most of these children earlier only got two meals a day,” shared Priyanka, the program in-charge. “That’s not enough. So we innovated with what we had, using the grains already available in Anganwadis to make laddoos. These became the child’s fourth meal, nourishing them not just physically, but emotionally too.”
The campaign’s success is the result of a powerful inter-departmental collaboration:
1. Women and Child Development Department
They conducted physical checkups for every identified child every 15 days, monitored nutrition levels, and referred serious cases to the Nutrition Rehabilitation Centre (NRC). They also provided additional nutrition via Take Home Rations (THR), organised Village Health and Nutrition Days (VHND) to counsel mothers and distribute fortified food, and maintained detailed health progress cards for each child.
2. Health Department
The Health Department ensured medical backing. They held weekly health camps every Saturday, kept a steady supply of essential medicines, and referred children with complications to the NRC. Their efforts ensured 100% immunisation coverage and accurate health records through the Child Development Project Officers (CDPOs).
3. AYUSH Department
Adding a traditional yet effective dimension, the AYUSH Department provided Bal Tel for therapeutic massages, conducted joint camps at Anganwadi centres, and spread awareness about holistic health practices and nutrition.
More than a campaign
Priyanka shared with emotion, “This project’s beauty lies in the fact that though it’s supported by government systems, its soul is community-driven. These tribal women, often thought to be rigid, have shown us their gentlest side. Not one of them is paid. They do it out of love.”
She paused and smiled, “When we called out the feeling of motherhood in them, when we reminded them how they once raised their own children with care, they stepped forward. They didn’t hesitate. That spirit is why the campaign became a success.”
And success is not an understatement.
Meet the Moti Aais
At Semriya Gram Panchayat, Organiser met three Moti Aais: Sarita Bhil, Amba Rasik, and Reshma Nema. All three belong to the Bhil tribe and radiate the quiet pride of women who know they are making a difference.
Sarita, cradling a child, said, “If not me, then who? The parents have gone far. It’s our responsibility to care for the child. I feed her, give her laddoos, do her maalish. If she doesn’t come to the Anganwadi, I go to her home.”
Amba and Reshma echo the same feeling. “We don’t differentiate between our children and theirs,” they said. “They’re all ours. And if we don’t step up now, who will?”
Spreading the light beyond Jhabua
The project has not stopped. “We continue to identify more children and assign new Moti Aais. The chain will go on,” Priyanka said. In fact, the success has travelled beyond state lines, the Rajasthan government has approached them for a blueprint, and other districts in Madhya Pradesh are beginning to replicate the model.
Jhabua District Collector Neha Meena has been awarded with Prime Minister’s Award for Excellence in Public Administration 2024. This national honour, one of the highest recognitions for civil servants in India, celebrates her pioneering work through the ‘Moti Aai Abhiyan.’
Its success has not gone unnoticed at the state level either. Recently, Madhya Pradesh Women and Child Development Minister Nirmala Bhuria visited Jhabua to inaugurate the official ‘Moti Aai’ mascot at a district-level event. She lauded the initiative’s remarkable outcomes and reiterated the state government’s commitment to strengthening childcare infrastructure. In her address, she announced plans to upgrade more than 12,670 mini Anganwadis into full-fledged centres, including over 800 centres in Jhabua alone.
Template for transformative governance
What makes the Moti Aai Abhiyan exceptional is its ability to blend indigenous knowledge with modern nutritional care and its reliance on community participation rather than top-down intervention. It offers a replicable blueprint for tackling complex social issues like malnutrition, one that doesn’t rely solely on financial input but rather on deep trust, cultural sensitivity, and the nurturing spirit of women.
As Jhabua celebrates this national honour, the Moti Aai story stands as a shining example of what visionary leadership, backed by local engagement, can accomplish. It is not just a campaign against malnutrition; it is a roadmap toward inclusive, empathetic, and sustainable development.
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