What a Monday, a Cup of Tea, and a Loan Taught Me About Design

The Rural Development Organization (RDO) Trust, based in the Nilgiris, is an NGO focused on strengthening rural livelihoods through sustainable development and collective responsibility. Over three weeks, I worked on RDO’s SHG project with their partner Sanghamithra Rural Financial Services, a microfinance institution working to support and improve the functioning of Self Help Groups (SHGs) across the region. My role was both observational and participatory. I engaged directly with women SHG members in the field, documenting and analyzing repayment defaults, learning and understanding the functioning of a microfinance, and contributing insights to improve microfinance operations on the ground. I also conducted interviews with women and men from three distinct communities to document their culture and traditions. Despite not knowing their native language, I was able to interact with them in Tamil.

SHG-MFI Engagement Cycle

Before diving into what I observed and identified as a designer, I want to reflect on the most meaningful part of this project for me: the opportunity to engage closely with three distinct and long standing communities in the Nilgiris: the Badagas, Thorayars, and Lingayats. Although these groups are often misidentified or grouped together by outsiders, my time in the field made it clear that each community holds its own practices, structures, and ways of life that deserve individual attention.

Hand-drawn map I made of a Hatti.

I conducted interviews across four days in three different Hattis (villages/settlements) in the Kotagiri region: Konavakarai, Sulligodu, and Hullathatty. Before I could even begin to understand the mechanisms of Self-Help Groups (SHGs), I knew it was essential to understand the communities they are rooted in. Their lives, routines, and social structures differ vastly from my own, and it was important to approach every interaction with openness and humility, making a conscious effort to truly see the world from their point of view. Through these interviews and observations, I encountered powerful nuances that directly impacted how SHGs function. For example, in Hattis, SHGs are formed only by members of the same village, many of whom are closely related by blood or marriage. While this strengthens mutual trust, it also creates a complex emotional landscape in times of financial default by a member of the group. I also learned that Mondays are considered sacred and reserved for temple visits, due to which no one goes to work, which also impacts availability for SHG meetings and repayment activities. Since many of the women are daily wage workers, the frequency of Badaga festivals directly impacts their income, as work pauses on these days. These are examples of how cultural nuances shape logistical patterns.

A Badaga elder I interviewed and a book she shared on Badaga culture and history.

Creating a detailed Cultural mapping report helped me find these hidden layers, ensuring that any intervention or design would not overlook the lived realities, rituals, and relational intricacies that define everyday life in these communities.

To sum up my motive towards the cultural mapping process, I return to something my mentor from RDO Trust, Mr. Rajkumar, said to me on my very first day in the field:

“Communities like these often expect something big from outsiders, not because they’re demanding, but because of a long history of promises and interventions that never truly considered their context. Too often, solutions are imposed rather than co-created. What we must strive for is not to design for them, but with them, to walk alongside their journey and build into their development, not over it.”

These words resonated deeply with me. From day 1, I was committed to spending as much time as possible with the community, not just to observe, but to understand, to listen, and to build trust. This is why I chose to conduct informal, conversational interviews during all of my visits. It allowed me to experience the essence of everyday life in the Hattis, and to approach the project not as an outsider, but as a learner walking alongside the people whose stories I was there to understand.

Most people I spoke to took genuine pride in how welcoming their villages are. Unlike many places where only familiar guests are invited in, the people here call out to passersby, even complete strangers, and invite them inside for tea, coffee, snacks, or even a full meal. This is how they live. Experiencing that kind of warmth and love first-hand even changed the way I view design. They revealed to me that design isn’t always about introducing something new; sometimes it’s about recognizing, learning from, and building upon what already works beautifully. These communities have, over generations, designed a society rooted in warmth and mutual respect. And as a designer, I realized that if I’m creating for or with them, my process must mirror that same care and complexity. Until now, I had approached design with a certain distance, but this experience reminded me that design is not about solving for people, but designing with them, earning their trust, sharing their time, and understanding the emotional and cultural contexts that shape their lives.

With generations of women from the Lingayat community who have sustained SHGs for over two decades.

Through a design lens, one of the most pressing challenges I observed was how interconnected vulnerability within Self Help Groups (SHGs) often leads to systemic failure. Most women use microfinance loans for critical needs like children’s education, but a single member’s default puts the entire group in Overdue (OD) status, barring even responsible members from accessing future credit. Since these groups are often made up of relatives or close-knit community members, there’s a strong sense of empathy that prevents pressuring defaulters, especially when the reasons are understandable, like unstable income or domestic distress. However, this same empathy, combined with the irregular earnings of daily wage workers, leaves little room to cover someone else’s share, despite having formally agreed to do so. Group leaders are often blamed and burdened, facing resistance from husbands who disapprove of their role or movements. In some cases, leaders misuse authority; in others, they are held back from their role by the lack of support. Issues like UPI-based repayments (against MFI norms), poor record-keeping, absent meetings, and no audits in the groups in the Nilgiris region indicate a lack of systemic structure. As a designer, I saw the need for interventions that support accountability without breaking trust and culturally sensitive engagement models that include men and community elders also in the conversation.

Stages of Late Repayment

Although I did not have the influence, power, or time to directly implement changes in the system, the process of observing and engaging with the SHGs gave me clarity on the deep-rooted complexities. Many of the problems I encountered were not just logistical but social and emotional, making them difficult to “solve” in a traditional design sense. But this experience reinforced something important; we may not be able to fix everything, but we can always find ways to make it better.

Despite the challenges, small improvements have already begun to shape better outcomes. For instance, issues around misuse of funds by group leaders were addressed by disbursing loan amounts directly into each member’s individual bank account rather than an overall SHG account. This change alone increased trust and transparency between members and institutions.

Based on my observations, I believe several key interventions could significantly improve this system. First, better documentation is crucial. By introducing simple, voice-based digital tools in local languages, photo logs, and digital attendance, we can strengthen traceability and accountability. The NGO can train the groups to use these tools. Second, smarter group formation through carefully designed exercises that assess income stability, internal group dynamics, and a member’s risk, can ensure compatibility and reduce default risks. Third, community-wide sensitization events can help men understand the economic value SHGs bring to families. As several women shared that their husbands disapproved of them going to collect repayments or attending meetings, involving men in symbolic roles would help build shared purpose. Fourth, formalizing UPI-based repayments via SHG-linked handles with transparency, instead of discouraging those kind of payments. This can streamline transactions and build trust. Fifth, SHGs should establish micro emergency funds for verified hardships to avoid full defaults while maintaining dignity. Lastly, improving meeting attendance through fixed schedules, incentives from NGO, multifunctional gatherings (health check-ups, school meetings, etc.,), peer accountability system, SMS reminders, and involvement of respected community members, can enhance group cohesion and outcomes.

Konavakarai Hatti

Maybe not every place needs a designer, or at least not in the way we usually imagine. However, even in the places that could use a designer, change is met with fear. Those in power fear being exposed; those without it, fear losing support. Through this project, I’ve realized that convincing people to change takes time and that’s part of the responsibility of being a designer. I also realized how sensitive these interactions can be. Many community members were hesitant to share certain beliefs, fearing they might be misrepresented or exposed to the public. It taught me a lot about trust, and navigating the thin line between curiosity and intrusion. People often hold conflicting truths, and as a designer, it’s essential to create space for all perspectives.

What inspired me most was meeting dedicated humans who are working to improve the lives of others without expecting anything in return. I’m deeply grateful to the people that taught me everything they could, and to the communities who shared their world with me. In the end, it’s love, that holds us all together. More than anything, this project taught me how to be a little more human.