Helen Bharde will not remind you of anyone extraordinary. With a gentle smile on her face and her small, delicate figure, she looks very much like the caring mother or the friendly aunt next door. However, beneath this modest exterior lies an iron will and a heart burning with passion for humanity. Helen Bharde's exceptional legacy of social service in the city of Mumbai goes back over forty years, earning her the deep affection of the masses and the title of "The Mother Teresa of Golibar" (Golibar slums being the starting point for her full-fledged social activism).

Hailing from a lower middle-class Mangalorean Catholic family based in Mumbai (then Bombay), young Helen fell in love with and married Answer Bharde, an enterprising Muslim electrician, in 1983. Helen worked for a small firm after completing her schooling and loved teaching underprivileged children. She always believed in fighting for the rights of the less privileged, and even as a teenager, she organised agitations for sanitation facilities at Santa Cruz railway station. Though she would actively participate in charitable initiatives of her church community and had a taste of social work at the famous Nirmala Niketan College in the 1980s, Helen Bharde became a full-fledged social activist during the hardest times.

The massive Hindu-Muslim riots that broke out all over India during 1992-1993 following the Ram Temple-Babri Masjid dispute in Ayodhya would change Helen's life forever. Until 6 December 1992, when the Babri Mosque was demolished, Helen had not experienced any kind of religious discrimination from any community. She had enjoyed a peaceful, cosmopolitan existence in her little home in the slums of Golibar, taking care of her husband and three little children. Her husband had a shop selling electrical goods. December 1992 disrupted that peaceful existence for the first time. The first wave of riots in December was soon brought under control by the administration. Little did Helen know that January 1993 would unleash horrendous monstrosities and push her into the heart of a maelstrom, and that even her husband's religion would invite hatred from those around her. "I don't want those days to ever come back…that is my only prayer…," is the constant emotional refrain that greets you when you talk to Helen about those dark days in Bombay.

On 12 January 1993, Suleiman Bakery was burnt, and Muslims in Jogeshwari were butchered and hunted down mercilessly. Subsequently, a wave of anti-Muslim riots was unleashed, with huge mobs of Hindu extremists rampaging every part of the city. Hordes of hunted Muslims fled to take refuge in Golibar near Santa Cruz, where Helen was residing. At an individual level, Helen first helped shelter the refugees in government schools and distributed essential supplies. Initially, she depended on her own modest resources. Slowly, more funds and supplies started coming in from NGOs, the governor of Maharashtra state, and veteran Bollywood actor and philanthropist Sunil Dutt. Gradually, Golibar became a safe haven for endangered Muslim communities. With help from the local peace committees and police, Helen managed to provide temporary security and shelter for 5000 Muslim refugees. The local schools were fully converted into camps, and food was cooked on wood fires day and night.

However, violence erupted across Golibar and in the neighbouring areas. Helen could not remain aloof when innocents were being attacked. She would often lock her young children at home and venture out alone on peace and rescue missions. Riots broke out in adjoining Jawahar Nagar. Helen's frantic pleas to the police fell on deaf ears, and an entire Muslim family was burnt alive. She visited the place with Bombay's Sheriff, Mr Khorakiwala, and took into her care the only surviving member of the family, a teenage boy called Ramzan. Helen was deeply traumatised by the horrific incident. Again, in Upadhayay Wadi, Helen rushed to the spot hearing of riots and saved Raju, a special child, among others, from being killed by rioting mobs. When riots broke out in Behrampada, Helen rode in an autorickshaw with a white flag and a red cross on it. Helen was involved in a daring rescue mission at the Behrampada rail tracks. When rioters indulged in stone-pelting, police mistakenly fired at innocent young boys playing nearby and also shot a middle-aged spectator in the vicinity. Helen intervened, dressed in white, facing the guns of an entire police force and trying to convince them to stop firing. She shifted the severely bleeding man and the boy with bullet injuries to the hospital, saving their lives. Risking her life, she could persuade rioters to leave and arrange for first aid for the injured.

In Asha Nagar, a Christian man was assaulted by mobs because he was working for Muslims. Helen saved his life and admitted him to a hospital. In Patel Nagar, Helen and her husband rescued a trapped Muslim family. However, they had a narrow escape when Helen's husband was on the verge of being attacked (since he, too, was a Muslim). They somehow managed to disguise his true identity and flee the murderous mobs. After this, Helen stopped her husband from accompanying her on her rescue missions.

Over time, Helen realised that the draconian and biased approach of the police had to change if peace was to prevail. She tried to start a dialogue with the police to curb violence, but they avoided her peace initiatives. Ironically, whenever a conflict broke out, the police would open fire and then request Helen to take the injured to the hospital, since she had a better rapport with the hospital authorities.

In a highly complicated and dangerous situation, Helen found herself sandwiched between Golibar (a Muslim-majority area), Upadhyayawadi (with both Hindu and Muslim populations), and Shanti Nagar (a Hindu-majority area). Upadhyaywadi lay between Golibar and Shanti Nagar. Hindus crossing over from Golibar to Shanti Nagar and Muslims crossing over from Shanti Nagar to Golibar had to pass through Upadhyaywadi, leaving them vulnerable to attacks. Helen forced the police to organise an inter-faith meeting with the citizens of Golibar and Shanti Nagar. Here, people came together to share their sorrows and fears, especially the minorities, overcoming their fear of Shiv Sena leader Bal Thackeray's hate speeches directing Muslims to go to Pakistan.

At Vakola police station, Helen approached the police for help in rehabilitating the Muslims who had fled from Golibar to Vakola. Inspector Majumdar of Santa Cruz station, who was in charge of the area, insulted Helen, saying that he had worn khaki outside but was all saffron (Hindu extremist) inside. The gutsy Helen retorted that she did not care what he wore but wanted him to rehabilitate innocent persecuted citizens. When the Inspector continued to hurl abuses, Helen complained to the ACP and the local legislators, resulting in his transfer and immediate action to help the refugees.

Vexed with the violent and shoot-at-sight approach of the police, Helen led a candle-light march for peace from the slums of Golibar to the military camp at Kalina. She led a delegation of citizens who approached the Governor of the state and requested for military intervention. Once the military intervened, the police left the area and peace was restored. Helen recalls how women social workers from all communities (such as Shaila Satpute and Mrs Qadri) came together and worked together across all divisions to ensure social harmony and progress.

Then came the serial bomb blasts of March 1993, and Helen was thrown headlong into another long relief, rehabilitation and peace-building mission. She now started working more intensively with the Mohalla Committee Movement Trust (MCMT), with veteran social activists like Sushobha Barwe, and committed high-ranking police officers like Julio Ribiero and Satish Sahney, to build bridges between the police and the citizens and bring lasting peace. The non-stop work in a conflict zone amid constant risk to herself and her family took a toll on her health, and she lost weight rapidly. Often, she would be threatened by violent Hindu mobs and had to escape using a false identity. She would identify herself as a Hindu lady so that such mobs would at least allow her to take injured children to the hospital. Helen reiterates that recalling those days with the streets littered with corpses of Muslims is extremely painful. She fervently prays that she might never again witness those days when people killed and burnt each other ruthlessly.

In retrospect, Helen Bharde is very emphatic about the need to maintain communal harmony and the role of ordinary citizens, especially women from the slums, in bringing communities together for the greater good. She recalls how the Shiv Sena had incited its women members to promote hatred against the minority community. At the same time, there were scores of selfless Hindu women who kept vigil and protected their Muslim neighbours, even caring for their injured in hospitals. The Muslim women acted as soldiers, driving away rioters during night vigils, keeping their menfolk away from conflict zones, and confronting both police and rioters alike. According to Helen, women played an incredible role in coping with violence, attending peace committee meetings, building bridges with enemies, suffering, showing a lot of initiative, and eventually accomplishing marvellous social welfare goals. They did not bring their children up in an atmosphere of bitterness, especially the women from the minority community.

Finally, none of the common people wanted any kind of conflict, recalls Helen. They were bothered about food, clothing, and shelter, as well as employment and education for their children, not about temples and mosques. She also feels that the depositions of social workers like her before the Sri Krishna Commission were of little use since the Commission's report made little impact. Though the events of 1992-1993 created religious divisions in the women's movement, and women of different communities do not attend each other's festivals as freely as they used to do in the past, Helen and her co-workers make every attempt to bring them together. She is worried that today, local peace committees have become cosmetic initiatives, and there is a lot of bitterness and religious polarisation. Mumbai, she feels, became a city of fear, distrust and apathy after the events of 1992-1993.

Helen's next foray was into politics. She commanded tremendous respect from her community for her single-handed and courageous fight for social causes. Starting without a penny in her hand, she was able to give a better life to hundreds, including her seven adopted children (five girls and two boys). An Indian Express article in 1993 labelled her as the Mother Teresa of Golibar. Helen never wanted to be a career politician. However, her admirers urged her to try using political power to make a much greater impact for the social good. Endorsed by veteran public figures like Shaila Satpute, Dilip Kumar and Sunil Dutt, Helen contested and won the Municipal Corporation elections as an independent corporator with Congress support in 1997 and 1999. Helen has consciously stayed away from political corruption, and she has never gathered funds for her election campaigns. A few donors have occasionally supported her with modest sums. Political power has not changed her lifestyle. She lives in the same house, in the same locality. Helen devotes her time to the Mahila Vikas Kendra, where underprivileged and less educated girls are trained to become nurses, tailors, beauticians and entrepreneurs. In 2016, she lost her beloved husband, her greatest pillar of support, who stood by her all through her risky peace missions in Golibar that was infamous for goons and gang wars. It is a loss that she can never reconcile herself to, says an emotional Helen.

Helen says, "I had a lot of support from my family and friends during 1992, so I could work for the people. I don't want 1992 to be repeated. I am surprised by how much I could do in that situation. I wish to keep working for the masses. I have realised that what matters in life is the respect and trust earned in my community. It is not money, but the love of my people that is the greatest treasure. It is very important to keep our children away from religious divisions and to achieve the dreams of education and progress for them. Parents from our slums dream of a better future for their children. We must not let them down."

Helen Bharde, without any high-flying degrees or even a respectable bank balance, has achieved more than most of us can ever dream of. With her sheer generosity, courage and enthusiasm, this one-woman army has proved that changing the world requires willpower more than anything else.