Fieldnotes from Mynas - What Care Looks Like in Leadership

I meet Suneeta ji at the newly opened Govandi office in Baiganwadi. The space is functional, sparse, still settling into itself. Later, I learn that this office, too, was scouted by her.

I have seen Suneeta ji before—at organisation-wide meetings, at events, occasionally at the Chembur office. Within Myna Mahila Foundation, she is known as someone formidable. Someone you don’t want to make careless mistakes around. Today, I am here slightly intimidated, but full of curiosity to understand who she is beyond that reputation.

I learn that she joined Myna in 2022, when the RANI Randomised Control Trial was still in its pilot phase. Before this, she worked with J-PAL’s research team. Myna approached her because they needed someone who could hold complexity—research design, field realities, people, unpredictability—all at once. Today, she leads the end-to-end operations of the RCT for Myna Bolo, Myna’s AI-powered WhatsApp chatbot.

“Myna needed someone who could hold complexity—research design, field realities, people, unpredictability—all at once.”

As we speak, it becomes clear that her mind is always working ahead of the moment. She tells me, half-jokingly, that even when she is travelling through the city during her non-working hours, she is mentally mapping neighbourhoods. Potential research sites.

Her team is largely field-based. Their days involve walking long distances, climbing ten-storey buildings without lifts, facing repeated rejections, navigating neighbourhoods with no public toilets or lunch spaces. There are safety concerns. There is fatigue. There are days when doors are shut before conversations can even begin.

So, her phone keeps ringing. She is constantly troubleshooting the team’s issues, negotiating with society heads about permission letters, or answering data team asking for updates. I ask her if it ever gets overwhelming.

“I actually really enjoy working with people and solving issues,” she tells me. “I feel like I grow personally through this process.”

But what surprises me is not that she is constantly problem-solving, but rather her highly planned approach to it. Every challenge seems already anticipated. Teams are divided carefully: house-wise, floor-wise. Researchers are instructed to always move in pairs. Work timings are flexible, adjusted for heat, exhaustion, and personal needs. There is space for breaks, including during periods. There is vigilance around safety that feels protective, not bureaucratic.

“Teams are divided carefully—house-wise, floor-wise. Timings adjusted for heat, exhaustion, and personal needs.”

She jokes again- this time about reimbursements. No one, she says, has ever managed to fool her with a fake bill. She knows distances by heart. How far one locality is from another. What it should cost. How long it takes. It sounds funny when she says it, but it also sounds like something built slowly, through years of attention and accountability.

At one point, she says something that stays with me.

“We are not in the business of sales. We don’t chase targets. We chase quality data.”

She pauses, then adds:

“And quality data can only come from a team that feels content. Not micro-managed.”

In that moment, the intimidating image I have of her dissolves. What replaces it is a conviction—a leader who respects their team.

Suneeta ji’s day is split between the field and the office. By evening, she reviews the data collected, checks it for accuracy, ensures it is correctly recorded, and shares it with the larger research team, including leadership overseeing the vertical. Based on inputs from team members spread across cities and continents, she plans the next day’s fieldwork.

“This rhythm—collect, check, reflect, plan—repeats every day. It is invisible work. There is no applause for it. But without it, nothing else moves.”

When I accompany her to Vashi Naka, where some of her researchers are doing listing work, I see her with her team. She sits with each of them individually. Listens, asks questions and offers suggestions. There is laughter, gentle teasing and at the end of it all, mutual respect.

By the end of the day, we are back at the Baiganwadi office. One of her team members is celebrating her birthday. While everyone is busy working, Suneeta ji quietly steps out. She returns with a cake. There is no announcement. No fuss. Just a small, thoughtful act.

As we sing and cut the cake, I learn that several members of her team joined her as teenage girls. They learned the fundamentals of research under her guidance. Today, two are on their way to becoming graduates. Two more are in their second year of college.

“I always tell my girls,” she says, “you need to study further to grow professionally. Becoming independent is the most important thing.”

Suneeta ji is 47. She is a single woman who is a primary caregiver to her mother. She has built her life around independence—quietly defying expectations placed on women of her generation. And now, without spectacle, she is passing that inheritance forward.

This fieldnote is not about research or data. It is about the invisible labour of leadership. About people who turn pressure into structure and challenges into care. About a woman who holds systems together—while making space for others to grow within them.