This is a story of quiet strength, fierce determination, and unbreakable spirit—the story of Manju Sharki Nepali, a 52-year-old woman born in the humble village of Tathali, Bhaktapur, Nepal. She was the only daughter of her family, a precious bud in a household weighed down by poverty. The warmth of education never touched her young heart because her parents’ empty pockets couldn’t buy her the gift of schooling.
Fate, shaped by the cold rules of society, thrust her into a child marriage at the tender age of 11. A little girl still playing with dreams found herself married to a man of 20—a man with a temper that could storm like a wild monsoon. Fear became her shadow, and silence her only refuge. Her husband, a driver by profession, wielded his anger like a weapon, and her voice remained locked behind trembling lips.
In the earliest bloom of youth, Manju bore the weight of a household. She tended to her in-laws, cooked on fires fueled by wood she collected from the forest, where she could become the next meal for wild animals at any moment and toiled endlessly. Her hands became calloused from hard work, but her spirit never broke. Love and support from her husband were distant stars she could only dream of, far from her reach.
As the years rolled by, four little lives came into her world—two sons and two daughters. But motherhood, instead of bringing comfort, tightened the chains of hardship. Her husband spiraled deeper into alcoholism and lost his job. The weight of the family’s survival rested entirely on her weary shoulders. She became a laborer at a brick factory, her dreams reduced to a single hope: that her children would have the education she never had. Yet, her meager earnings were a cruel joke against the rising costs of school fees and daily meals.
Life didn’t spare her from more cruelty. One fateful day, she suffered a severe back injury at work. Pain became her constant companion, yet she did not allow herself the luxury of rest. Her family’s survival depended on her grit, so she fought through the agony and kept working. When death finally claimed her husband, it brought neither grief nor relief—just a hollow silence where hope once whispered.
Her children grew up. They carved out lives of their own. But financial burdens clung to Manju like a second skin. Her body, worn down by decades of toil, could no longer endure the heavy labor of her youth. Yet her spirit burned with an unquenched fire—the hunger for dignity, the dream of standing on her own feet.
Then came a glimmer of light through the storm. Samriddhi Foundation Nepal, hearing her story of endurance and quiet bravery, extended a hand of hope. With a small seed of support, Manju’s dream took root. She opened a modest vegetable stall—a humble corner of freedom where she could breathe in the fresh air of financial independence.
Today, she sits behind her stall, her back still aching but her heart swelling with pride. Every vegetable she sells is a symbol of resilience, every coin she earns a victory against the darkness that once tried to consume her. She is no longer a silent victim of fate. She is a survivor, a fighter, a beacon of strength for every woman told to bow her head in submission.
Samriddhi Foundation Nepal is honored to have walked beside her in this journey. This is not just a story about helping a woman start a business. It’s about igniting a spark that was always there, about empowering women to rise, to fight, and to build futures where dependency is replaced by dignity. Manju’s story is a reminder that when women refuse to give up, they become unstoppable—because true freedom is earned not just with dreams but with the fierce will to make them real.
