In a small corner of rural Hooghly, where girls were once advised to stay indoors, an unlikely football revolution is unfolding. On dusty village grounds, where weddings come before dreams, young Adivasi girls now lace up boots, call for the ball and talk about playing for Mohun Bagan, the Indian Women’s League and even the Indian national team.
This change did not come from any formal programme. It came from a couple — Raju and Lalita Oraoa — who refused to accept that football was “only for boys”. They gave up their jobs, survived days with meagre food, and even sold Lalita’s gold jewellery to keep training going. Today, their academies in Shyamnagar and Bhandarhati have become sanctuaries of possibility.
A marriage that became a mission
Raju and Lalita Oraoa left their jobs, sold their jewellery, and fought for Adivashi girls to be able to play football Soumyajit Dey
In 2016, Raju, and Lalita decided to start coaching girls, at a time when no one supported them. “If I got scared, what would I do?” Raju says. “Whatever happens, we will see later.”
Lalita backed him every step. “I sold my gold because the girls needed a place to dream,” she says. What began with just their own daughter, Ishika, soon turned into the Shyamnagar Unite Adivasi Football Academy. In Bhandarhati, they built another unit — Adivasi Sporting Club — where boys and girls train side by side. Together they now mentor nearly 100 children. Money is scarce, but the doors are always open. “We take a fee from only those who can pay,” Raju says. “No one is turned away.”
When football challenged tradition
A cool-down session post practice at Shyamnagar Soumyajit Dey
In their village, girls playing outdoors was once considered ‘shameful’. “People said if girls play football, they will wear shorts… what will society say?” Raju remembers. The couple challenged this by starting with their own daughters. “If my daughter practises, why can’t yours?” Lalita would ask.
Slowly, parents, who would once refuse, began sending their children to the field. And former critics now cheer from the sidelines. Today, around 70-80 girls train in Shyamnagar and about 20 in Bhandarhati. A community that once silenced girls now celebrates their goals.
Matches that change everything
Game time is an essential part of their growth
For years, the girls barely played two or three matches a season. “You cannot learn football without playing it. Playing in the Reliance Foundation Youth Sports tournament gives us 21 games this year, which is a remarkable number.” Raju says. Bhandarhati Adivashi Sporting Club stood first in the Under-7s, and second in the Under-13s at the RFYS Football Championship Hooghly.
Things shifted as more local tournaments emerged. In Bengal’s football hotbeds like Hooghly and North 24 Parganas, leagues like the Kanyashree Cup and grassroots circuits, connected to competitions such as the Reliance Foundation Youth Sports calendar, ensured consistent fixtures. The academy’s under-13 girls lifted the IFA title. Their under-7s went unbeaten in the Golden Baby League. Players reached the Subroto Cup. Some now feature in the Indian Women’s League. “The more they play, the more they improve,” Raju says. “Earlier we conceded 10 goals. Now our girls don’t like losing.”
The coach who gave back to his roots
(L-R) Coaches Budhiram Tudu, Somnath Barua, Raju Oraoa and Lalita Oraoa Soumyajit Dey
One of the strongest pillars of the project is former professional footballer Budhiram Tudu. He played for East Bengal for four years and was the leading goalscorer in the 2011 Calcutta Football League title-winning season, before moving to Mohammedan Sporting. Now, he is giving back to his roots.
“Earlier no one thought about girls,” he says. “Here, I saw that girls can also play well. I feel proud teaching them how to strike the ball, how to train.”
Facilities are basic — a hard ground in summer and muddy in the monsoon — but these coaches teach adaptation. “On a turf the ball runs faster; you must adjust,” Budhiram says. “We prepare them for any surface.”
Arpita and the father who refused to let dreams die
Arpita Das (centre) a confident 11-year-old playmaker, has the full support of her father, who dreamt of going pro Soumyajit Dey
Among the brightest talents is 11-year-old central midfielder Arpita Das, a natural playmaker. But this playmaker’s story goes deeper and lies with her father, Bidyut. He once played for East Bengal Juniors and dreamt of going professional. But when his father died, he had to quit football to support his mother. “I had to earn. I could not chase football,” he says. Today, he sells vegetables to keep his family going — but he refuses to let his daughter’s talent fade. “I want to live my dream through her,” he says, his voice heavy with pride. He travels from Chinsurah to the academy, watching from the sidelines in rain or shine. “I love football. I want my daughter to love it with all her heart.”
Beyond medals: the real victory
Lalita Oraoa says these girls don’t want any rest — they just want to keep playing Soumyajit Dey
The academy has produced champions, Subroto Cup players and IWL call-ups. But the biggest win is freedom. Freedom to run. To fall. To learn. To dream. “We don’t want to live without football,” Lalita says. “The children don’t want rest… they want to train.”
Raju dreams of a ground of their own, a gym, good nutrition, and proper training. “We understand players. Give us support and we will give you footballers.”
What success looks like here
Success looks very different for these girls, who aren’t just aiming for the stars — they are also working towards it Soumyajit Dey
“If we get support, we can send more girls to the India team,” Raju says. “Our boys are also getting ready. If they can play with East Bengal and Mohun Bagan, they will be even better.” His final message is simple. “Come to the field,” he smiles. “If you come once, you will understand the joy of football.”
In Shyamnagar and Bhandarhati, that joy has become a quiet uprising — where girls once hidden behind doors now sprint with pace, receive the ball on the turn and build a future no one thought possible.
Here, football is not just a game. It is courage in motion.