For nearly two decades, Aayom Welfare Society has demonstrated that meaningful social change begins with people, not projects. Established in 2006, the organisation has grown from a legacy of quiet community service into a multi-sector development institution working across literacy, livelihoods, rehabilitation, sustainability, health, and humanitarian response. Guided by the belief that lasting impact is built on dignity, trust, and community ownership, Aayom combines grassroots experience with strategic, scalable interventions that empower individuals and strengthen communities. In this conversation with CSR Mandate, Prerrit Mansingh, Secretary of Aayom Welfare Society, reflects on the organisation’s journey, its evolving development philosophy, and the human stories that continue to shape its mission of creating sustainable and inclusive change.
Looking back at Aayom’s early days in Fatehpur, which real-life community story convinced you that this work had to become a lifelong mission?
There is often an expectation that such journeys begin with a defining incident. In my case, it was not a moment but a continuum. Social welfare was not something I encountered; it was something I grew up with.
From an early age, I witnessed my family engage in consistent, values-driven service, like supporting farmers, assisting underprivileged families with access to medical care, working towards the rehabilitation of inmates, enabling small business initiatives, and facilitating education. None of this was framed as exceptional. It was simply part of daily life, carried out with quiet commitment rather than visibility.
This early environment shaped not only my perspective but also my sense of responsibility. By the time Aayom Welfare Society was formally registered in 2006, the intent was not to initiate something new, but to consolidate and strengthen what already existed. The objective was to bring these dispersed efforts under a structured framework, enabling scale, continuity, and strategic clarity, while preserving the personal commitment that had always defined the work.
Chalo Padhein, Aayom’s literacy initiative, has helped over 9,500 people transition to functional literacy. What immediate shifts do you observe in their dignity, confidence, and everyday agency?
Literacy does far more than impart a functional skill; it reshapes how individuals engage with the world around them. The most immediate change is often subtle but deeply significant, a shift in dignity.
I have met women who once relied on thumb impressions for identification, who now sign their names with visible pride. That act, simple as it may appear, represents a transition from dependency to self-recognition. Similarly, children who had never attended a classroom are now enrolled in government schools, participating in systems previously inaccessible to them.
One experience from 2023 in a remote village in Bilaspur, Chhattisgarh, illustrates this process. When our volunteers first approached families, the response reflected the harsh realities of subsistence living:
“Ye padhega toh kaam kab karega?”
“Ghar ka kharcha kaise chalega?”
“Hum toh majdoori karte hain… bachche bhi kooda bechne jaate hain.”
“If he spends his time studying, when will he work?
How will we make ends meet?
We are just daily-wage labourers… even our children have to go out and collect scrap.”
For marginalised families, education is not rejected out of indifference, but out of necessity. Trust-building, therefore, required patience and pragmatism. A local family eventually offered a small hut as a makeshift classroom. Encouraging children to attend involved not only dialogue but also small, tangible incentives like stationery, picture books, and simple rewards.
Today, these children are enrolled in formal schooling. More importantly, their participation has begun to influence younger siblings and peers, creating a ripple effect within the community. Literacy, in this sense, becomes not just an individual gain but a collective shift in aspiration.
In the early years, our work focused on addressing immediate and visible needs such as education support, community engagement, menstrual health awareness, skill development, and medical assistance. Over time, patterns began to emerge. These issues were not isolated; they were interdependent.
What was the most significant turning point that shaped Aayom’s evolution from grassroots interventions into a multi-sector development organisation?
The evolution was not driven by a single turning point, but by a gradual deepening of understanding. In the early years, our work focused on addressing immediate and visible needs such as education support, community engagement, menstrual health awareness, skill development, and medical assistance. Over time, patterns began to emerge. These issues were not isolated; they were interdependent. A child’s access to education was often determined by household income. Income stability was influenced by health. Health outcomes were linked to awareness. And all of these were shaped, directly or indirectly, by policy frameworks.
Recognising this interconnectedness marked a conceptual shift. Development could no longer be approached through isolated interventions; it required an ecosystem perspective. Campaigns such as Snap The Taboo demonstrated the effectiveness of structured, scalable initiatives, while engagement in policy advocacy, particularly around the universalisation of the Public Distribution System, reinforced the importance of connecting grassroots insights with systemic change.
Today, our approach integrates on-ground engagement with partnerships, cross-sector collaboration, and policy-level thinking, ensuring that interventions are both locally relevant and structurally aligned.
Aayom works across literacy, sustainability, livelihoods, rehabilitation, and health. What shaped this integrated model more: deliberate strategy or organic community demand?
The model is the result of a continuous interplay between community demand and strategic design. Social initiatives typically begin by responding to immediate needs expressed by the community. However, sustained impact requires these responses to be structured and interconnected.
For example, a child dropping out of school is rarely facing only an educational problem. It is often linked to financial hardship, health issues, or challenges at home. That is why meaningful change requires addressing these interconnected issues together, rather than focusing on education alone.
Our integrated model evolved because communities themselves revealed the limitations of single-solution approaches. The needs originate on the ground, but the framework must be strategic to ensure that interventions are sustainable, scalable, and measurable. The balance between responsiveness and structure defines our approach.
When Aayom’s Healing the Earth initiative links conservation to livelihoods, how do communities react to environmental work becoming an economic opportunity?
The response shifts fundamentally when environmental responsibility intersects with immediate economic relevance. When sustainability is framed purely as a long-term or abstract concern, it often feels distant to communities dealing with daily survival challenges.
However, when composting reduces household expenditure, when waste segregation and upcycling create income streams, and when WASH awareness improves health and productivity, participation becomes both practical and sustained. Communities engage not out of obligation, but because they experience tangible benefits.
One of the most significant shifts has been in how waste itself is perceived. Individuals involved in plastic waste initiatives begin to view waste not as a burden, but as a resource with economic value. This redefinition transforms behaviour in a way that awareness campaigns alone cannot. At Aayom, sustainability initiatives are designed to align environmental responsibility with dignity and daily life.
When someone moves from saying, “I need work,” to “This is what I do,” the nature of engagement changes. A skill ceases to be transactional and becomes part of their identity. We see this in moments where individuals, particularly women from vulnerable communities, begin to negotiate the value of their products with confidence, or when hesitation gives way to ownership.
What was the most important insight you gained from your work in Denkanikotte on linking clean energy to livelihoods?
The introduction of a solar energy tree in Denkanikotte demonstrated how access to clean energy can directly enhance quality of life and economic activity. In a community with limited electricity, the intervention enabled students to study after sunset, provided reliable access to mobile connectivity, and allowed e-rickshaw users to charge their vehicles locally without incurring additional time or travel costs.
What made the intervention particularly effective was its design. It required minimal land, avoided deforestation, and eliminated the need for extensive wiring infrastructure. At the same time, appproximately 1.2 tonnes of CO₂ emissions have been reduced annually.
The key insight was that decentralised, context-sensitive energy solutions can simultaneously address livelihood needs and environmental sustainability, without imposing additional ecological or infrastructural burdens.
You are reviving traditional crafts through Artisan Spun while creating sustainable livelihoods. When does a skill stop being just employment and become a person’s core identity?
This transition cannot be externally defined; it is experienced by the individuals themselves. From our perspective, it becomes visible when there is a shift in how a person describes their work.
When someone moves from saying, “I need work,” to “This is what I do,” the nature of engagement changes. A skill ceases to be transactional and becomes part of their identity.
We see this in moments where individuals, particularly women from vulnerable communities, begin to negotiate the value of their products with confidence, or when hesitation gives way to ownership. This transformation is not solely the result of training; it reflects a deeper shift in self-perception, where individuals begin to recognise their own capability and worth.
What is the biggest hidden barrier Space Solved faces when reintegrating former inmates into society?
The most significant barrier is not skill, employer bias, or even self-belief. It is societal acceptance.
Individuals returning from incarceration often carry a label that precedes them into every interaction. Regardless of the circumstances, communities tend to define them by their past. This affects not only their opportunities for employment but also their social relationships and family reintegration.
Such resistance can undermine even the most robust rehabilitation efforts. At Aayom, we address this by focusing on structured reintegration, by creating dignified work environments, building peer support systems, and ensuring that individuals are recognised for their capabilities rather than their history. Reintegration must be addressed as a social process, not merely an individual one.
When I see women taking charge of their own futures and, in turn, creating better opportunities for their families, I am reminded why we do what we do. Those individual journeys eventually become the foundation for stronger families and more resilient communities.
Within the Fibre Story circular value chain—farmers, artisans, or consumers—which segment drives the greatest transformation?
The real transformation lies not in any one part of the value chain, but in the way each strengthens the other. It begins at the source, where agricultural waste is no longer treated as residue to be discarded or burnt, but as a valuable raw material that creates an additional source of income for farmers.
The next shift happens as artisans transform that raw material into sustainable products, 
creating meaningful livelihood opportunities while preserving traditional craftsmanship.
However, the most decisive shift occurs at the consumer end. When consumers begin to choose circular products by preference rather than obligation, the model becomes self-sustaining. Demand stabilises, artisans gain consistent market access, and the economic viability of the entire ecosystem is reinforced.
For us, success is not measured by an intervention or a beneficiary. It is measured by creating an ecosystem that no longer depends on constant external support where every participant strengthens the next, making the entire model both economically and environmentally sustainable.
Beyond financial independence, what is the first transformation you witness in women trained under Bites & Chews as they begin earning?
The first transformation I notice is confidence. Financial independence is certainly important, but confidence is what changes everything. It is reflected in the way women carry themselves, speak with assurance, and begin to believe in their own abilities.
As they start earning, they contribute to household expenses, build their own savings, and no longer have to depend on others for every small financial need. Gradually, this financial independence gives them a stronger voice within the family. They become active participants in decisions relating to their children’s education, healthcare, and the family’s future.
One story that stays with me is that of Geeta, one of our beneficiaries, who is preparing to start her own chai and samosa cart using her savings. What impressed me most was not just her entrepreneurial spirit, but her determination to maintain high standards of hygiene and quality. It reflects a sense of ownership, pride, and confidence in what she is building.
When I see women taking charge of their own futures and, in turn, creating better opportunities for their families, I am reminded why we do what we do. Those individual journeys eventually become the foundation for stronger families and more resilient communities.
One message I would like to share with CSR leaders through your publication is that funding is only one part of development. What truly creates impact is trust, patience, and a genuine understanding of local communities. The work begins after the photographs are taken, through consistent engagement rather than one-time interventions.
How does Aayom balance speed, scale, and precision during a crisis, and how has this response model evolved?
In a crisis, we rarely have the luxury of time. Our first priority is always speed because any delay can cost lives. However, speed alone is not enough. The scale of the response and the precision of our interventions are determined by the needs of the affected community.
In the early years, our focus was primarily on delivering immediate essentials such as food, shelter, medical assistance, and hygiene supplies. Over time, our approach has become more structured and responsive.
Today, we operate on three parallel tracks: rapid needs assessment through trusted local networks, immediate deployment of relief, and close coordination with local authorities and partner organisations to avoid duplication and maximise reach. Rather than treating speed, scale, and precision as competing priorities, we ensure they work together.
Whether responding to floods in Sikkim, fires caused by cylinder blasts in the NCR, or a public health emergency like COVID-19, one lesson has remained constant: the stronger our grassroots relationships and communication networks, the faster, more accurately, and more effectively we can respond when communities need us most.
When CSR leaders visit your field ecosystems, what is the single biggest misconception about development work they have to unlearn?
One message I would like to share with CSR leaders through your publication is that funding is only one part of development. What truly creates impact is trust, patience, and a genuine understanding of local communities. The work begins after the photographs are taken, through consistent engagement rather than one-time interventions.
Another common assumption is that once funding is in place, impact will scale quickly. In reality, change moves at the pace of human behaviour. An inmate does not rebuild dignity according to a project timeline, and every individual responds differently. Lasting transformation takes time, trust, and patience.
Perhaps the biggest shift is recognising that beneficiaries are not passive recipients. They are partners. The most sustainable outcomes emerge when communities are actively involved in shaping the solutions that affect their lives.
Real transformation goes beyond what you can see. People have food on their tables, money in their pockets, and confidence in the way they carry themselves. The hesitation is gone. They are better informed, more aware, and, most importantly, they understand their rights and the opportunities available to them.
As Aayom continues to grow, what is one area you are careful not to standardise, and why?
One area we consciously choose not to standardise is our Need of the Hour crisis response. Every disaster and every community comes with its own realities. Even places facing similar situations may require very different interventions.
While our systems provide structure, our response must remain flexible. Empathy cannot be reduced to a template, and neither can crisis management. The most effective solutions are those shaped by the needs of the community, not by a predefined process.
What are the tangible and intangible markers of long-term transformation in a community where Aayom has worked for a decade?
The visible changes are easy to recognise. You would see more children attending school, women participating confidently in community discussions, more people engaged in structured livelihoods, informed conversations about menstrual health, and women earning and contributing to their families.
But the real transformation goes beyond what you can see. People have food on their tables, money in their pockets, and confidence in the way they carry themselves. The hesitation is gone. They are better informed, more aware, and, most importantly, they understand their rights and the opportunities available to them.
For us, that is the true measure of impact. Our role has always been to initiate, enable, and then gradually step back, ensuring that dignity, confidence, and ownership remain with the community.