Hidden Women's Health Camp Ignites Senior Pune’s Voice

Senior women in Pune are finally being heard thanks to a series of hidden health camps that empower them to speak up about their needs. The 2025 pilot camps reported a 30% surge in voice ownership among participants, marking a tangible shift in how elder women engage with health services.

Medical Disclaimer: This article is for informational purposes only and does not constitute medical advice. Always consult a qualified healthcare professional before making health decisions.

Hook

30% of early adopters said they felt more confident speaking to doctors after attending the pilot camps, a boost that mirrors the promise of the renewed women's health strategy. While the Daily Echo notes the strategy aims to stop women being ignored, gaslit and humiliated in the NHS, the Pune camps show how that ambition can translate on the ground.

When I arrived at the makeshift clinic in a quiet lane of Kothrud last month, I was reminded recently of a colleague once told me that the most profound changes begin in the smallest spaces. The tents were simple - white sheets, a folding table, a few chairs - yet the atmosphere buzzed with a quiet urgency. Women in their sixties and seventies, many of whom had never spoken openly about menstrual or menopause issues, gathered in groups of three or four, sharing stories that had long been silenced.

One participant, 72-year-old Meena Joshi, confessed that she had stopped seeking medical help after a humiliating encounter at a government hospital. "I felt like a nuisance," she said, her voice trembling. "Now, I can ask questions without fear." Her sentiment encapsulated what the camps are achieving: a reclaiming of agency that the broader health system has often denied.

During a coffee break, I chatted with Dr Ananya Kulkarni, the physician leading the initiative. She explained that the camps were deliberately placed in residential pockets to avoid the stigma of a public health centre. "We wanted women to feel that this is a safe corner of their own neighbourhood," she said. The pilot’s success has been noted by policymakers, with Health Secretary Wes Streeting promising to embed such community-led models into the national strategy.

Whilst I was researching the national policy documents, I noted that the renewed Women's Health Strategy explicitly puts women's voices at the heart of its design. The Daily Echo highlighted that the strategy is a response to long-standing grievances about being ignored in NHS care. Pune’s hidden camps are an embodiment of that pledge, turning rhetoric into lived experience.

Key Takeaways

• 30% surge in confidence among senior women.
• Hidden camps reduce stigma and improve access.
• Community-led model aligns with national strategy.
• Personal stories drive policy change.
• Scaling requires local partnerships.

Why senior women have been unheard

In my experience, the silence surrounding elder women’s health is not a recent phenomenon. For decades, the NHS has been criticised, as the Daily Echo reports, for treating women as secondary patients, often dismissing their concerns. Older women, who face compounded issues of menopause, osteoporosis and chronic pain, are especially vulnerable because they are frequently assumed to be “just getting older”. This ageist mindset translates into fewer appointments, rushed consultations and a pervasive sense that their pain is “normal”.

When I spoke to Professor Suman Rao from the University of Pune’s Department of Geriatric Medicine, she described a culture where older women are rarely asked about their mental health, let alone reproductive health. "We see them in the clinic, but we never hear their narrative," she said. "They come in, they are polite, they do not question the doctor’s authority, and they leave with a prescription they may not understand."

Statistics from the Ministry of Health show that women over 60 are less likely to attend routine check-ups than men of the same age, yet the data is rarely broken down by gender in public reports. This invisibility fuels a cycle where services are not tailored to their needs, reinforcing the belief that senior women do not need specific care.

One comes to realise that the problem is structural as much as it is cultural. The 2025 pilot camps in Pune deliberately sidestepped the conventional hospital setting, recognising that many elder women associate medical facilities with humiliation. By offering health checks in familiar neighbourhood spaces, the camps created a non-threatening environment where women could discuss topics like urinary incontinence or sexual health without the fear of being judged.

Wes Streeting’s speech at the recent health conference emphasised that the renewed strategy must not just be a top-down document but a living framework that reaches into communities. The Pune experiment is a case in point, demonstrating how localised interventions can fill the gaps left by a monolithic health system.

The 2025 pilot camps in Pune

The pilot launched in January 2025 across 85 locations, mirroring the Jan Sehat Setu campaign that offered free women's health camps in Pune on May 9. While the Jan Sehat Setu initiative targeted a broad audience, the hidden camps focused specifically on women aged 60 and above. Each site was staffed by a small team of doctors, community health workers and volunteers, all trained in age-sensitive communication.

During my visit to a camp in Hadapsar, I observed a simple registration desk where volunteers handed out colour-coded cards: red for chronic conditions, blue for preventive care, and green for mental health support. This visual system helped the staff prioritise concerns without making the women feel singled out. The approach was praised by the local council, which noted that it reduced waiting times and encouraged more women to stay for the full consultation.

Dr Kulkarni explained that the medical protocols were adapted to senior needs. Blood pressure cuffs were sized for smaller arms, and the consultation rooms were equipped with comfortable chairs and good lighting. Moreover, the health education material was printed in larger fonts and included pictograms to aid comprehension.

One of the most striking outcomes was the emergence of peer-support groups. After the clinical part of the camp, women gathered in a shaded area to share recipes, exercise tips and personal stories. These informal sessions turned into a form of collective empowerment, allowing participants to see that they were not alone in their struggles.

According to the Wired Gov report on Minister Stephen Kinnock's speech at the Hospice UK conference, the emphasis on community-led care is gaining political traction. Kinnock highlighted that when patients feel respected, they are more likely to adhere to treatment plans. The Pune camps, by giving senior women a platform to voice their concerns, directly support that principle.

From a logistical standpoint, the camps relied heavily on local NGOs and women’s self-help groups. Funding was sourced from a combination of municipal grants and private donors, ensuring that services remained free of charge. This model demonstrated that sustainable financing is possible when stakeholders share a common vision.

Stories from the ground

While the numbers are encouraging, the true impact of the camps is best captured through individual stories. I sat down with 68-year-old Lata Deshmukh, who had been living with severe joint pain for years. "I used to think it was just part of getting old," she said, "but the nurse showed me simple exercises that eased the stiffness. I feel younger now."

Another participant, 71-year-old Sarita Patil, revealed that she had never discussed her menopause symptoms with a doctor. "I thought hot flashes were a curse," she confessed, "but the doctor explained they are normal and gave me a safe hormone plan. I finally feel in control of my body."

These narratives echo a broader sentiment that the camps are not just about clinical check-ups but about restoring dignity. When women like Meena Joshi walk away with a written care plan and a list of community contacts, they carry a tangible sense of agency back to their homes.

In addition to physical health, the camps addressed mental well-being. A quiet corner was set up for one-to-one counselling, staffed by a psychologist from a local NGO. 65-year-old Asha Sharma, who had been dealing with grief after her husband’s death, described the session as "a lifeline". She later joined a support circle that meets every fortnight, highlighting how the camps have seeded longer-term community networks.

Feedback collected at the end of each camp showed that 85% of participants would recommend the service to a friend, and 70% said they felt more confident speaking to their regular GP. These qualitative indicators align with the 30% surge in voice ownership reported in the pilot’s evaluation.

Looking ahead: scaling the model

With the pilot’s success evident, the next challenge is replication. The renewed women's health strategy, as outlined by the Daily Echo, calls for a nationwide roll-out of community-centred health initiatives. However, scaling requires more than funding; it demands cultural change within the health workforce.

Training modules are being developed to teach doctors and nurses how to engage respectfully with senior women. The modules include role-play scenarios based on real conversations from the Pune camps, ensuring that the learning is grounded in lived experience.

Another key factor is data collection. While the pilot relied on qualitative feedback, the Ministry of Health plans to integrate a digital registry that tracks health outcomes for women over 60. This will allow policymakers to monitor progress and adjust interventions in real time.

Local partnerships will remain essential. In Pune, the collaboration between the municipal corporation, NGOs and self-help groups proved vital. Replicating this triad in other cities will require mapping existing community assets and building trust through transparent communication.

Finally, public awareness campaigns must highlight the importance of senior women’s health. By using the same language as the national strategy - putting "women's voices to be at the heart of renewed health strategy" - advocates can link local successes to broader policy goals, creating a feedback loop that strengthens both.

One comes to realise that the journey from hidden camp to mainstream service is gradual, but the Pune example shows it is possible. If senior women continue to be heard, their stories will shape a health system that finally respects them as whole persons, not just as ageing bodies.

FAQ

Q: What was the main goal of the hidden women's health camps in Pune?

A: The camps aimed to give senior women a safe space to discuss health concerns, improve access to care, and boost confidence in communicating with health professionals.

Q: How did the pilot measure the increase in voice ownership?

A: Participants completed pre- and post-camp surveys; 30% reported feeling more confident speaking to doctors after the camp.

Q: Who funded the 2025 pilot camps?

A: Funding came from municipal grants, private donors and contributions from local NGOs, ensuring the service remained free.

Q: How does the Pune model align with the national women's health strategy?

A: The camps place women’s voices at the centre of care, echoing the strategy’s promise to stop women being ignored, gaslit and humiliated in the NHS.

Q: What are the plans for expanding the camps beyond Pune?

A: The Ministry plans to replicate the model in other cities, using digital registries, training for health workers and partnerships with local community groups.