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A 13-year-old girl was sent to a room with a man thrice her age. The man raped the girl for 12 hours without any breaks. He didn’t stop for even a second. Today, we’ve rescued her, and she lives with us. We’re proud of her, since she’s our strongest survivor. Just yesterday we have gotten her daughter admitted to a school.
My name is Gitanjali, and I’m the founder of Kat-Katha.
But I didn’t always plan to start an NGO. Years ago, I was working with the government on an HIV prevention project. That’s when I first walked into a brothel on GB Road, Delhi. I thought I was there to do a job—to talk to the women about using condoms and staying safe.
But what I saw changed my life.
In one small room, there were around 12 young girls. Some sat quietly, others stared at the walls. Men kept walking in and choosing who they wanted. I noticed one girl who didn’t want to go. Her face said no, but she still stood up and left when the madam took money. She came back after a while, washed her hands, and sat back like nothing had happened.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. These women weren’t just names on a file. They were real people, with pain, with dreams. I didn’t feel like an officer anymore. I felt like a witness to something no one talks about.
So I kept going back. Not as an official, but just as Gitanjali. At first, many women were angry or confused. One even asked me, “You ask us how many men we sleep with—what if we asked you the same?” I had no answer.
One day, I was crying after being thrown out of a brothel, and a woman came down and said, “They don’t trust anyone. But I want to learn. Will you teach me to read a menu?”
That was the beginning of Kat-Katha.
One day, I was crying after being thrown out of a brothel, and a woman came down and said, “They don’t trust anyone. But I want to learn. Will you teach me to read a menu?”
That was the beginning of Kat-Katha.
We started with small steps—teaching women to read and write, helping their children go to school, and starting small projects where women could earn money in a safe, respectful way. Later, we built Dream Village—a home for women who want to leave the brothel and live a new life.
Over time, many lives changed.
Over time, many lives changed.
One girl who used to sleep above a bathroom now has her own room and wants to become an IAS officer. Another woman, once called “mental,” now leads the kitchen at Dream Village.
But the journey is not easy. Some women leave and return. Some children grow up safe, others still struggle. But we keep trying.
Today, 2,200 women still live on GB Road. Many were sold when they were just children. Now, they are mothers. Their kids dream of being doctors, teachers, dancers. We give them education, therapy, food, and shelter—but we can’t do it alone.
We need your help—for rent, food, books, medicines, and most importantly, hope.
Today, 2,200 women still live on GB Road. Many were sold when they were just children. Now, they are mothers. Their kids dream of being doctors, teachers, dancers. We give them education, therapy, food, and shelter—but we can’t do it alone.
We need your help—for rent, food, books, medicines, and most importantly, hope.
Click here to donate.
EIN 20-5139364
