Title: Understanding the Role of Mentorship in Nurturing Survivor Autonomy, Competence, and Connection: Sanjog's Insights
“Sanjog made us believe in our own power. And that changed everything.”
Rashida’s words stay with us. They’re not just a reflection of her journey, but a window into the heartbeat of an entire movement.
For the past few years, we at Sanjog have had the privilege of walking alongside two incredible survivor-led collectives—Utthan and SAANS. This journey of mentorship has not been a straight line. It has been an ever-evolving process of showing up with humility, staying curious, getting it wrong, trying again, and above all—staying with. This piece is our attempt to share what we’ve learned—not from a place of expertise, but of companionship.
Mentorship as a Mirror: Respect, Trust, and Showing Up
When we started working with Utthan and SAANS, we didn’t enter with toolkits or templates. We entered with questions: How do we build trust? How do we make room for healing? What does support really mean when the people you’re working with carry deep scars?
For Utthan, the answer often came back to one word: respect. “The most important thing Sanjog gave us is respect,” said Firoja. “They never made us feel small. They asked what we thought, not just what we did.”
This kind of radical listening is what made it possible for leadership to emerge. Ashma described facilitation spaces where planning and processing happened together. “Healing became part of leadership,” she said.
For Hamida and Rebecca, mentorship was knowing someone would be there during the silence—after the community backlash, the online trolling, the violence at home. “They didn’t tell us what to do,” they said. “They asked us what we needed.”
Across in SAANS, Seema recalled how Faisal’s quiet encouragement gave them the courage to dream bigger. “His trust made me believe in myself,” she shared. In a pandemic-ravaged world where certainties were crumbling, SAANS became more than a group—it became a grounding.
Autonomy Isn’t a Given. It’s Grown.
True mentorship doesn’t fill someone’s shoes—it helps them lace up their own.
Nasima, a member of Utthan, shared how Sanjog never imposed. “They never said ‘you’re wrong.’ They asked why we did what we did—and helped us reflect on how we could do better.”
Autonomy became most visible when SAANS faced a sudden transition. Their mentor, Faisal, left. It was jarring. But it also opened up something new. “We realized SAANS was ours now,” Seema said. “It was terrifying. But it also made us braver.”
From financial decisions to community engagements, members began stepping up in ways they hadn’t imagined.
Rebecca recalled facing a debt crisis and how mentorship helped her reimagine not just her finances, but her boundaries. “It wasn’t just about money—it was about saying no, even to family.”
Competence is a Tapestry—Built Thread by Thread
You can’t build autonomy without building skill. And for both collectives, competence was a long game.
From Kanyashree research projects to budgeting workshops, survivor leaders learned how to write, facilitate, analyse, and speak with conviction. Nasima remembered how being seen as a researcher—“not just a victim”—shifted how her community perceived her.
At SAANS, members like Anesh and Janmejay grew through trial, error, and feedback. What started with confusion eventually became clarity.
Digital tools also became allies. From social media to AI platforms, members learned to manage communications, track documentation, and shape their own stories.
Still, there were gaps. Members pointed out the need for more structure, especially when it came to budgeting and compliance. “We needed step-by-step guidance, not just trust,” one said.
What Helped: Slowness, Trust, and Shared Space
Looking back, what worked wasn’t a formula. It was a way of being.
Mentorship worked when it was slow. When it didn’t rush learning. When it prioritized connection over correction. It worked when Pompi asked “Why?” instead of “Why not yet?” When Sampriti noticed who wasn’t speaking. When Uma made space for grief in strategy.
It worked because Chiradip stayed after the Zoom calls to explain forms. Because Nisha went into homes where stigma lived. Because support wasn’t just about training, but standing with.
It worked when we stopped thinking like mentors and started thinking like co-travelers.
Where We Faltered: The Gaps That Taught Us Volumes
We didn’t always get it right. There were times we stepped away too quickly after a training, gave feedback too late, or didn’t plan transitions with the care they deserved. What helped us become aware of these gaps was our willingness to receive feedback with openness and humility.
SAANS especially felt the impact of these lapses. The absence of a structured handover, the sudden drop in monthly check-ins, and the lack of training in 2024 weren’t just logistical oversights—they were emotional absences. They reminded us that sustainability isn’t only about building skills. It’s about showing up consistently.
As one member shared, “We wanted someone to ask us how we were doing with documentation—before it became a problem.” Another reflected, “The year no training happened, it felt like we were left on our own without warning.”
We listened. And we took action. We introduced 360-degree evaluation methods to better understand where support was falling short. We committed not only to reviewing our work technically, but also engaging emotionally—making space for discomfort, vulnerability, and reflection. Through training ourselves in trauma-informed facilitation, we began to recognize not just what wasn’t working, but why.
What We Know Now: The Real Work of Mentorship
If there’s one thing this journey has taught us, it’s that mentorship is not a transaction. It’s a relationship.
It’s not about telling people what to do. It’s about helping them remember that they can.
It’s about offering tools, yes—but also standing by when they falter. It’s about inviting reflection, not prescribing paths.
And above all, it’s about believing—again and again—that transformation is not only possible, but already unfolding.
As one survivor leader told us: “You never told us what to do. You helped us remember we could do it.”
That’s the kind of mentorship we want to build. And rebuild. Together.
If you’re still reading, thank you. We hope this story stirs something in you—maybe a rethinking of mentorship, maybe a deeper belief in what survivor-led leadership can be.
#SurvivorLeadership #MentorshipMatters #AutonomyInAction #CollectivePower #FeministMentorship #SanjogIndia #GenderEquity #GrassrootsLeadership #CommunityHealing #StoryOfChange #LeadershipThroughListening
Child Rights Associate - ASSOCIATION FOR VOLUNTARY ACTION (AVA)|| Co Founder - ILFAT and SAANS|| Ex-Sewa International Fellow|| Expertise in Labour Trafficking||Youth Leadership Trainer||
4mo"Reading this brought tears to my eyes. Every line echoed parts of my own journey—the silence, the struggle, the courage, and the unwavering belief we built together. SAANS is not just a collective; it’s a spark of hope born from our deepest wounds. I feel truly honored to be a co-founder of SAANS, a movement rooted in dignity, leadership, and resilience. But this story isn’t just ours—it’s also Utthan’s. From them, we learned what true leadership means: not walking ahead, but walking together. Utthan has been a mirror and a guide, showing us the power of respect, reflection, and collective strength. I bow with gratitude to every companion in this journey and to the Sanjog India (KSI) team—for standing with us, not as saviors, but as fellow travelers."
Enabler, Builder, Anchor, Seeker -- what we seek to change, changes us!
4moKhemlal Khaterji