Joti Baba The Superhero
Written by Prashant Kamal Bhimraoji Tambe
Illustrations by Omkar Bagwe
Reviewed by Jennifer Thomas & Sujata Noronha
A necessary addition to any library collection that is serious about whose histories get represented.
| Publishing Date: 2025
ISBN: 9788199270107 Page Count: 125 Publisher: Eternal Light Publications Review Posted Online: June 2026 QBR Reviews Issue: Q2 2026 Categories: Phule | Equality | Justice| Citizenship |
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Nearly two hundred years after Jotiba Phule’s birth, children’s literature in English in India has produced nothing that tells young readers who he was. Joti Baba, The Superhero by Prashant Tambe steps into that void with both intention and warmth. It is a rare children’s book that does genuine political work while remaining playful and engaging.
The premise is inventive: young Joti, a curious and spirited girl, dreams of meeting her hero, Jotiba Phule, “the thinker, teacher, writer and reformer.” Since Joti Baba is no longer alive, she must find an inventive way to reach him. How does she do so, and who helps her in her quest? You must read the book to find out.
We enter the book with a dedication page written by Tambe paying tribute to Joti Baba, Savitri Amma, Fatima Amma, and Usman Baba. His position as an Ambedkarite is clear from the start, and it is refreshing to read a story written in this voice.
The story, which unfolds across seven chapters and sixty pages, brings Joti face to face not only with Joti Baba but eventually with Savitri Amma as well. Through their exchanges, playful, probing, and occasionally pointed, Joti (and the reader) learns about Joti Baba’s early life, his beliefs, his writings, and the social reforms he fought for, including his resistance to child marriage and caste-based exclusion. The narrative moves forward through dialogues between Joti, Joti Baba, Savitri Amma, and Mukta, young Joti’s mother. Joti has a child-like curiosity, but the adults in her life never talk down to her. The dialogues never feel stilted or forced, keeping the plot moving at a good pace.
At one point, young Joti asks Savitri Amma with frank bewilderment, “How come these stories are not in our books?” Savitri Amma gently replies, “It depends on who is writing these stories.” In a single sentence, Tambe hints at the politics of curriculum, canon, and representation that have kept Joti Baba and Savitri Amma on the margins of mainstream educational discourse and publishing. In the hands of an experienced library educator, this can become a pivotal moment to springboard a discussion on whose histories get represented and why.
In the same vein, Tambe pays attention to gender representation in a subtle yet deliberate way. We meet characters, all women, across different social locations. They are portrayed as upright working professionals in their own right: Mukta, Joti’s mother, is a path-breaking scientist; Bhuvi, their house help, is a dependable professional who tends to her work with diligence; Alfiya, the bus driver, is able, alert, and caring. In a book about Joti Baba, whose life’s work was inseparable from questions of caste, gender, and labour, this is not incidental. By weaving characters such as Bhuvi, Alfiya, and others into the fabric of the story, Tambe makes a quiet argument consistent with Joti Baba’s own vision of a more just social order, particularly for women.
The portrayal of Joti Baba and Savitri Amma as equal partners, whose affection for each other, intellectual companionship, and shared courage helped them overcome many challenges, is another strength of the book. Typical biographies tend to spotlight one person, often discounting the contributions of others; this book offers a fresh departure from that tendency while also allowing us to see what a remarkable partnership they had, two hundred years ago.
As an illustrated book, the watercolour illustrations neither add to nor detract from the story. In our work with children, we know that good readers engage carefully with both image and word, making connections and inferences. Illustrations can play an interesting role in advancing the plot and communicating what words alone cannot. This is an opportunity that remains under-explored here. That said, the colour palette and layout complement the text well. Joti Baba’s red turban and Joti’s blue uniform are important symbols that reappear throughout. In the first few chapters there are some typesetting errors, with the letter ‘x’ missing from certain words. This does not impede comprehension for a proficient reader but could be addressed in future reprints.
It is difficult to place this book within a single genre, as it weaves fantastical elements together with historical facts. Interspersed throughout are thoughtful activities and question prompts to engage the reader after each chapter, including a variety of superpowers that are unlocked as Joti moves forward in her quest. The reason the author gives Joti Baba a cape is to show us that he was, ultimately, just human and that Jotirao Phule’s superpowers resided very much within him. Tambe highlights three qualities for his readers: courage, kindness, and equality, all powers that reside within us. He closes the book with a message addressing the reader as “Dear Young Superhero,” reminding us of what becomes possible when we use our superpowers.
In reading and discussing this book with a small group of grade nine children, we found that they appreciated Tambe’s introduction, as it helped them understand the historical context of the story. The book made them think about why they had not encountered more stories of the Phules in school textbooks. They felt the plot was interesting and easy to follow. One student was especially surprised that Joti chose to travel back in time rather than forward — which is how most science fiction stories tend to go. The children appreciated the use of simple language, including action words such as “sluuurp” and “zap,” which they felt made the reading more animated.
One lingering question we had as we re-read this story concerned the particular spelling used for Jotirao Phule (the inner cover also features a lovely handwritten inscription by him). We reached out to Shiva Thorat, a media producer from Navi Mumbai, who offered some insight:
“Jyoti” as light or flame is a later, more Sanskritised reading. The older root may lie closer to “jot.” Jot is a grounded, material referent tied to village life, labour, and the chavdi. “Jot” is a jute rope which has light/fire entangled to bamboo at the chavdi. Hence, the shift toward “Jyoti” reflects not just linguistic evolution but also processes of appropriation, translation, and standardisation often shaped by colonial transcription practices that struggled with local phonetics.
Spelling Joti without the ‘y’ is, then, an intentional editorial decision — one that readers would do well to pause and reflect on.
If you are a librarian looking to add more diverse literature, this is a book you must include in your collection. It is well suited for independent readers aged 10–12. Whether they are already familiar with Jotiba Phule and Savitribai Phule’s work or are coming to it for the first time, the writing and activities compel thinking and questioning.
Further Recommendations
- Gardener in the Wasteland by Srividya Natarajan, Navayana, 2011
- Savitribai Phule and I by Sangeeta Mulay, Panther Paws, 2020
- The Incredible Life of Savitribai the Fearless Reformer by Swati Sengupta, Speaking Tiger, 2022