Rama Ranee
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February 23, 2026
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12
min read
Raised by nature: Bonds with farms, forests help children grow holistically
Safe spaces, outlets for creativity and curiosity, and a connection to the Earth—nature can mean many things to kids
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At Sangatya commune, sustainability is embedded in every task
Step into Sangatya, and you’ll find a world both radical and timeless. Before you even arrive, a document lands in your inbox – a primer to prepare you for the journey. It begins with a statement: “Sangatya is a free association of free people, living a life consistent with the values of fairness and sustainability.” In these two sentences lies the essence of this six-acre agricultural commune: a commitment, almost audacious in its scope, to crafting a future where both the Earth and its people are liberated from social divisions and environmental degradation.
The idea of Sangatya was born in the minds of a group of engineers who wanted to make a difference. They envisioned a return to traditional farming methods, rejecting modern conveniences like taps, LPG, and commodes in favour of hand-drawn well water, firewood, and compost toilets. They found a place to make their vision a reality in Nakre, a village near Karkala where farmers were abandoning traditional agriculture and planting areca plantations in the hope that their children would move to the city. In 2007, the engineers established Sangatya, a farming setup that seemed almost anachronistic to the neighbours.

For Shreekumar, a former professor from NIT Surathkal who now teaches ecology at Manipal University’s Gandhian Centre, Sangatya is more than a home; it’s a way to live his activism. After years spent fighting for workers' rights and environmental justice in movements like the Narmada Bachao Andolan, Shreekumar felt that the next step was to be the change. “It is not enough to protest specific instances of injustice” he says, “but one must generate hope in the face of environmental and social despair.”
At Sangatya, the work begins with the rising sun. Firewood is lit, and rice–grown in their own fields–is brought to a boil. Once cooked, it’s stored in a hotbox to conserve energy. For lunch, a century-old grinding stone, left behind by the previous owners, is used to prepare curry. Milk comes from the cowshed, where four indigenous cows are housed, including a rare Malnad Gidda breed. After a simple breakfast of coffee and thindi, the residents head to the fields, tending to rice in the wet season and pulses during the dry months.

Everything at Sangatya is done with a deliberate rejection of excess. Instead of relying on irrigation pumps – made easy by the government’s provision of free electricity – the members haul water manually from the nearby river, a task both physically demanding and consciously chosen. Their goal: to avoid the overuse of resources that so often comes with modern convenience.

By 11 am, the sweltering coastal sun demands a break. The residents retreat to their simple, 50-year-old home. Those needing a nap at midday can lie on a mat on the cool floor, while others might enjoy browsing through the Sangatya library. The library has a few hundred books on subjects like philosophy, ecology, and economics, including some by friends of Sangatya who have spent time there. As Shreekumar says, “Work, leisure, and intellectual activity blend together when you live a connected life.” You might find yourself resting while discussing Fukuoka or using the box charkha (one of Sangatya’s treasures) while deciding on the sambar for dinner.
One must generate hope in the face of environmental and social despair
At Sangatya, even simple chores reflect their commitment to sustainability. For example, dishes are cleaned using ash from the stove, and the water from rinsing is collected and given to a plant that needs it. The stove also produces charcoal, which is crushed and mixed into the soil to help it absorb nutrients. Even the toilet is part of this natural cycle—food becomes waste, waste becomes compost, and once it’s safe, the compost is returned to the soil. In this way, everyday tasks like washing dishes or cleaning the toilet contribute to improving soil health.

The day’s work is planned after dinner. No one is in charge, and tasks are allocated based on physical ability and willingness. This absence of a formal hierarchy reflects Sangatya’s anarchic principles: there is structure, but it emerges naturally through voluntary cooperation. The community’s success depends on the collective commitment of each resident, and while this system may sacrifice some efficiency, it instils a sense of shared ownership and non-exploitative participation.
Sangatya’s message is simple but profound: if we are to survive the environmental and social challenges of the future, we must rethink how we live now. The members of this small commune are already doing so—quietly, radically, and without fanfare. They offer no easy solutions, but they embody the hope that a different way of life is not only necessary but within reach.

Sangatya is constantly evolving. This year, their rice fields will focus on native varieties like Nagasampige, and their new cowshed opens up opportunities for natural fertilisers like jeevamrutha. But with these ambitions come challenges. The community must balance a transient population of visitors – eager to learn but often inexperienced – with the need for skilled, long-term residents. Hiring outside labour is rare, and when necessary, it’s neighbours from marginalised communities who are given priority.
Sangatya’s reliance on word-of-mouth, rather than social media, to spread its message is another challenge. The founders believe that online platforms too often commercialise ideals like theirs, stripping away sincerity. As such, the commune has a minimal digital footprint, trusting that those truly interested in their mission will find their way to Nakre.

Sangatya stands as a living model of sustainable, intentional living in a world increasingly consumed by convenience and short-term thinking. Every meal cooked over firewood, every pot washed with ash, and every decision made through consensus is a reminder of what’s possible when people choose to live in harmony with the Earth rather than dominate it.
The story of Shivakumar CR who traded blueprints for coffee beans
In the Coorg circles, Shivakumar CR is a leading name when it comes to organic farming. While his background is in civil engineering, his true calling is agriculture. He practises “forest farming,” aiming to protect the local environment. He avoids chemicals and ensures his farming doesn’t disrupt the natural cycles of the forest.
Shivakumar carefully selects planting locations based on the water needs of different crops and plants trees on slopes to prevent soil erosion. His farm doesn’t use irrigation systems; instead, he relies on natural rainfall and diverse planting. His crops include coffee, pepper, seasonal fruits, and even exotic varieties like the monster deliciosa.

Shivakumar is also passionate about exploring new plants for his farm. He also works to document and preserve traditional knowledge about wild fruits, bridging the gap between historical practices and modern farming.
Q: When did your passion for agriculture start?
I come from a family of agriculturists. Since childhood, agriculture has been my passion.
As a civil engineer, I felt like a fish out of water.
I bought this land near Madikeri with my uncle to focus on farming, and I also have more land in Mysore district where I grow horticultural products.
Q: Can you explain what you're trying to do on your farm? You mentioned it's not dependent on irrigation. Could you also talk about your ecological approach?
Here, we rely purely on nature, avoiding mechanisation in our farming process. The small amount of earthwork we’ve done was handled by our labourers. We depend on natural rain for blossoms and backup showers—there’s no irrigation system, even though we have a river below the estate. We haven’t tapped into that resource.
We harvest whatever the season allows, focusing on a mix of crops. I've planned it so that every three months, there's something to harvest to keep things running.
Our main crops are coffee and pepper, with areca coming in around October. We also harvest oranges in June and December, though the plants are struggling due to disease.

For border crops, we grow bananas, but wild boars and porcupines damage them. We also harvest Garcinia gummi-gutta in July and August, along with cardamom during the same time. From December to February, we’re mainly busy with coffee and pepper.

We have coffee almost year-round, plus fruits like sapota and underground crops like ginger and turmeric, which also help support the farm.
Q: You come from a farming background. What led you to adopt organic methods? Was organic farming always practised in your family?
When I was a child, chemical farming wasn’t common. Although some chemicals were used, it was minimal.
Over time, chemicals became more widespread, and farming shifted to a commercial mindset. In the past, people grew crops mainly for food, with coffee as a side crop. Now, food crops are no longer grown, and the focus is on commercial crops. You need manure and water to boost plant growth by 2x, 3x, or even 4x. This often leads to diseases, which then require pesticides.
Meanwhile, production costs keep rising, but market prices for crops aren't increasing at the same rate as expenses. So, farmers end up turning to coffee.
My coffee crop isn’t doing well because we grow it in the shade without using chemical fertilisers. Many farmers are switching to open-sun cultivation, and that has an impact.
Someone who knows coffee can easily tell the difference between sun-grown and shade-grown coffee, as the flavour is noticeably different.
Q: You've lived in Coorg for a long time. How have you seen things change in terms of flora, fauna, and farming practices?
Chemical farming has drastically changed things. In the past, coffee plantations were like forests, with a variety of plants, just like mine. Now, most high-yield coffee farms are fully open, with trees cut down and only stems left.
Earlier, farmers watered the plants only for blossom flowering, but now, due to rising temperatures and sun exposure, they have to water regularly to keep the plants alive. Water levels are also dropping.
On my farm, you can hear lots of birds and see butterflies. But on open farms, you won't find birds. Birds eat harmful pests, and without them, the pest population grows. This forces farmers to use pesticides.

Chemical farming affects not just humans, but the entire environment, and not just locally. In high rainfall areas like ours, pesticides get washed into water bodies, harming aquatic life.
Bird populations are also declining, and wild animals are affected too. They often come to our organic fields.
For example, about 5-6 years ago, the Banana Skipper pest was affecting plantations. This pest is a moth larva that lays eggs on banana leaves. Many experts suggested chemical treatments, and a neighbouring farmer tried them without success. On my organic farm, birds came, tore open the banana leaves, and ate the larvae, controlling the pest naturally. So, my crop wasn’t damaged, even though bananas are just a border crop for me.
Q: Do you think mono cropping and unnatural practices compounded the problem?
It is a complex issue. I feel the heavy machinery moving on slopes and the use of JCBs to remove earth for tourism purposes have played a role in landslides, like the one that happened in Kodagu.
Q: You’ve been researching wild fruits for a while. Can you tell us how you got started and what varieties you’ve found?
A: I grew up eating wild fruits. When I was a child, Madikeri was almost like a forest, and we would roam around, eating wild fruits.
About 8-10 years ago, I noticed a tree full of wild fruit called Amehanu near a rickshaw stand in Madikeri. No one was eating it because they didn’t know it was edible. That’s when I realised we needed to preserve this knowledge, so I started documenting wild fruits.
So far, I’ve documented about 80 major wild fruits. One interesting one is Elaeagnus conferta, locally known as jerguli. I was especially interested in this fruit, and when I asked around, a caretaker on my farm said it used to grow here, and they ate it as children, but now it's gone.
I eventually found the plant in Madikeri. It turns out the same plant was on my farm all along, but we didn’t recognise it. This shows how much our knowledge of plants has eroded. That’s why I started documenting not just wild fruits, but all wild edibles and the indigenous knowledge around them.
Q: Dr Sujatha mentioned that you're also passionate about teaching and sharing this knowledge. How important is it to pass this on to future generations, and what has your experience been?
A: Our forefathers lived close to nature or worked in agriculture. The next generation moved to cities for jobs, and now, the third generation wants to return to the land. But when they come back, the natural knowledge that was passed down through generations has been lost.
The younger generation learns through courses or the internet, but it’s like eating with a spoon—you don’t feel the heat until the food reaches your mouth. They might study online or from books, but real learning happens when they face problems in the field.
There’s a gap that needs to be bridged through hands-on teaching. Book knowledge doesn’t always apply. Every 5-10 kilometres, the species, land, soil, wind, and slope can change. The coffee on my farm is different from the coffee just three kilometres away. You won’t get the same results everywhere.
Q: On one hand, there’s widespread chemical farming, but there also seems to be a growing interest in change. What do you think the future holds?
A: If consumers are willing to support farmers with vitamin M (money), farmers can do a lot of good. People don’t bargain when buying expensive items like shoes or vehicles, but when it comes to food, they want to pay just 5-10 rupees on a kilo of rice. That doesn’t make sense.
Farmers need to be fairly compensated for quality food. Only then will the system thrive.
(Image Credits: Sreejith M, Nevin T, Harshith V)
Shrinking fish populations spark environmental fears
You could once taste the salt of Mumbai’s Arabian Sea in the air while driving along the coast. Now, instead of that familiar breeze, you see barricades and bulldozers everywhere. It all started in 2011 when a politician brought back an idea from the 1960s, originally suggested by American consultants: building a road in the sea along Mumbai’s coast.
Despite regulations introduced in 1991 to prohibit new reclamation projects, the government amended the rules and greenlighted the project. The INR 13,000 crore project is seen by many as a way to ease travel across the city, but not everyone shares this enthusiasm.

On a hot September afternoon at Lotus Jetty, which overlooks the Haji Ali Dargah, fishermen stand by, watching their boats float in a barely existent harbour. Wajid Mohammad, one of the fishermen, is busy untangling his net on a boat that now returns mostly empty. “A boat full of fish is a rare sight now,” he said. Over the past few months, the reclamation work for the Coastal Road project has upended the lives of these fishermen, leaving them anxious about what lies ahead.

We’ve known the sea since childhood. Haji Ali was our only home.
“We have suffered major losses since construction began,” said Wajid. In 2022, they could still find some species like crabs, but now those too have disappeared. Fishermen like Wajid are left with no choice but to seek work elsewhere. “We’ve known the sea since childhood. Haji Ali was our only home,” he added.
Hasan Wali Muhammad, a young fisherman, lists the fish that have disappeared because of the new infrastructure. "Lobster, tiger prawn, khajura (barramundi), hekru (grouper), rawas (Indian salmon) – none of them are found here anymore," he said. Pointing to the concrete shoreline, he added, "The fish used to be this close. We never had to go far, but now we do." The fisherfolk mentioned that while the recent Shravan month saw lower demand for their produce, things will only worsen once the demand picks up.
Coastal construction is a risk anywhere, as it disrupts natural habitats, but in a city like Mumbai, where heavy rainfall and floods are common, the risk may be even greater. “The currents have worsened, which is why our nets get tangled,” said Bilaal, another fisherman, as Wajid continues to untangle his nets, now filled with trash.

The real issue is that the fishing and docking areas have disappeared. When a habitat vanishes, it impacts the entire coastline.
“The kachra [debris] is negligible in that entire Great Pacific patch,” said Pratip Patade, a Mumbai native who has spent years documenting the city’s biodiversity and the threats to its shores. “The real issue is that the fishing and docking areas have disappeared. When a habitat vanishes, it impacts the entire coastline.”

Patade, who is also the director of the Coastal Conservation Foundation, a non-profit organisation focused on marine wildlife awareness, has seen first-hand how the reclamation has altered Mumbai’s coastline. “The whole habitat has changed. The reclaimed area is 200 metres. So, the area was exposed and the animals in the upper zone vanished,” he added.
He also noted that it’s not just Lotus Jetty; other parts of Mumbai have faced the same issue. “Choti chowpatty, Carter Road, Tata gardens have all been reclaimed,” he said.
Despite the project's widespread opposition from urban planners, environmentalists, and fishermen, the construction continued unabated.
“So many gaps exist in this project,” said Patade. “Firstly, there was a lack of research specific to Mumbai’s coastline. After 1970, nobody studied it, so when they did the Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA), they suggested mitigation measures, but no one checked if they were implemented.”
The Sixth Assessment Report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) in 2022 highlighted that the Indian Ocean has experienced the fastest rise in sea temperatures globally since the 1950s. Experts warn that the lack of research on how infrastructure interacts with rising sea levels is slowly creating conditions for natural disasters, both now and in the near future.
While the Coastal Road is now functional, its legal status remains murky, “The Coastal Road is still technically illegal. When the Conservation Action Trust took the case to court, the High Court referred it to the Supreme Court, which issued a stay. But during the pandemic, they continued building, so the road is up and running, but the court case is still pending,” said Patade.

The municipality promised to compensate them for the losses they incurred due to the construction. However, no payments have been made since work began in 2017. “Boat owners were promised compensation of Rs 13-15 lakh, and we were supposed to receive Rs 2.5-5 lakh, but nothing has been finalised,” said Wajid.
Court cases, researchers, and NGOs are all helpless now.
Hasan said the BMC has made it clear they won’t address the situation. "They plan to remove the remaining silt to build a wall to support the project. We’re already forced to keep our belongings on the rocks because there's no space. After Ganesh Chaturthi [late September], they’ll ask us to leave this area too," he added.
The fisherfolk of Haji Ali are witnessing the slow death of their way of life. The Coastal Road project, intended to modernise Mumbai, has come at a steep cost. Not only has it altered the natural environment, but it has also displaced a community that has depended on the sea for generations.
“Nobody listens to the poor. Even the organisations that are supposed to help haven’t done anything for us,” said Wajid.
With legal battles unresolved and compensation unpaid, the future looks uncertain for these fishermen. They are left grappling with a rapidly changing landscape and a shrinking livelihood, watching helplessly as the sea they once called home is transformed into concrete and steel. "Court cases, researchers, and NGOs are all helpless now," said Patade.
Grassroots organisation freed bonded workers in Chitrakut
Chitrakut district in Uttar Pradesh, renowned for its pilgrimage sites, has long been marked by severe exploitation in many villages. Over the past 40 years, significant progress has been made through a consistent initiative to distribute farmland to the poorest landless households, particularly from Kol tribal and Dalit communities.
Gaya Prasad Gopal, 85, who founded the voluntary organisation Akhil Bharatiya Samaj Sewa Sansthan (ABSSS) and led this initiative, recalls, “Most of the land was owned or encroached by large landlords. Landless Kols and Dalits laboured for minimal wages, often just a quarter kilogram of coarse grain. Many were bonded workers. Hunger was widespread, compounded by a shortage of drinking water.”
When ABSSS sought to free bonded workers, the administration initially denied their existence. Persistent advocacy led the state government to send experts from Lucknow, who identified 2,900 bonded workers in the Manikpur and Mau blocks, where ABSSS was active.
The administration then took action, though it was delayed, to release and help the bonded workers. ABSSS continued working diligently to make sure the government support reached the released workers.
Meanwhile, ABSSS found out many landless workers had been allocated 2 to 4 acres of land years earlier, but landlords had taken over this land.
The activists worked hard to gather information on these land deals and encroachments. They then launched a campaign to recover the land from the landlords so that the poorest families could use it for farming. The activists, led by Gopal Bhai, faced not only powerful landlords but also dangerous dacoit gangs that threatened and harassed them.
By this time, the Kols and Dalits had become confident in the ABSSS’s commitment and quickly came together to safeguard their new opportunities. The ABSSS had also set up several informal schools, and as the students grew up, they and their teachers joined in the effort to protect their rights.
Many families felt a sense of pride as they began receiving official documents confirming their land rights. Despite issues with encroachers, most people who received these documents (Pattas) were eventually able to farm their land.
However, challenges persisted. Much of the land was difficult to cultivate, and a lack of irrigation was a significant problem for these new farmers.
ABSSS addressed this by initiating water conservation and small irrigation projects, which later evolved into larger watershed programmes. As ABSSS built a reputation for effective, low-budget work, prominent organisations like NABARD, Tata Trust, Oxfam, and Action Aid supported their efforts. Bhagwat Prasad, then the young director of ABSSS, played a crucial role in enhancing their work's quality while keeping costs low. This earned ABSSS the prestigious FICCI award for their water conservation and watershed development work, particularly in Mangava panchayat.

The sudden death of Prasad from a heart attack was a major setback. Yet, his legacy of check dams, ponds, and soil conservation projects enabled many Kol and Dalit farmers to cultivate their land effectively. For the first time, they could harvest crops from their own land and understand what food security means.
This success also raised the hopes of other landless individuals who had not yet received land. In response, a new campaign was launched, resulting in a second wave of land distribution that helped many more landless families obtain land. The work continued with renewed vigor, including creating layered vegetable gardens and digging water conservation pits or dohas.

Because of these efforts, many Kol and Dalit families in villages like Mangava, Harijanpur, Itwan-Paatin, and Tikariya (Manikpur block) have successfully farmed their newly allocated land, thanks to minor irrigation and soil and water conservation projects.
Gopal Bhai says, “As a result of our direct efforts and our influence on some government initiatives, about 2,500 landless families were able to get land.”
He also mentions that while some farmers started using chemical fertilisers due to the availability of irrigation, ABSSS focused on promoting natural farming methods.
Food security improved with the planting of various native trees, especially fruit trees. ABSSS estimates that about 60,000 of these trees have survived.
The success, achieved in a challenging environment once controlled by large landowners and criminal gangs, was driven by community involvement. Participation in protest meetings, marches, and sit-ins was crucial. Women played a key role in these efforts, with activists like Booti, Sanjo, Kesar, and Urmila stepping up. Some of these women even ran for and won panchayat elections. This increased the community’s confidence in their ability to protect their land and rights.
Matadayal from Harijanpur village recalls the hunger his Dalit family endured in his childhood. The community's hope was rekindled first with land allotments and then with the creation of an irrigation pond. Today, most families successfully farm their land and enjoy a decent level of food security.

As Matadayal grew up, he became close to Gopal Bhai and eventually emerged as a well-known activist. Although he learned to read and write later in life, his involvement in struggles helped him develop skills in writing and performing struggle songs. Now, he is sought after for his inspirational songs, many of which he has composed himself. He continues to work to help landless families secure and protect their land rights.
The experiences from these villages show the great potential of land reforms focused on providing land to the landless for improving sustainable livelihoods and food security. During multiple visits to these villages, I have seen the progress in food security. However, this success is overshadowed by a troubling trend. With some extra cash available and an increase in places selling liquor, tobacco (especially smokeless tobacco or gutkha), and junk food, health and nutrition are being negatively affected. As Gopal Bhai points out, “Nutrition and health improvements could have been much greater if it weren’t for this growing problem. We need to address this issue more seriously.”
Non-native trees introduced for quick greening are causing big problems
When local authorities and real estate developers in Rajkot aimed to expand the city's green cover, Conocarpus seemed an ideal choice. Native to Africa, this tree was affordable, fast-growing—reaching up to 20 feet in just two years—and featured glossy leaves and vibrant flowers. It thrived in hot conditions, required minimal water, and could grow well using drainage and sewage water.
However, in late 2023, the Gujarat government banned the planting of Conocarpus in both forested and non-forested areas. In a circular dated September 26, SK Chaturvedi, principal chief conservator of forests, stressed the importance of controlling this “unfamiliar species”. Research had indicated that Conocarpus could cause respiratory problems due to its pollen, and damage infrastructure like telecommunication lines, drainage systems, and water supplies with its extensive root system.
It is not an isolated incident. In recent years, several states have taken measures to limit the spread of non-native plants. While Telangana has banned Conocarpus as well, states like Delhi, Karnataka, Punjab, Kerala, Rajasthan, Maharashtra, Sikkim and Tamil Nadu have targeted species such as Prosopis juliflora, Acacia tortilis, Acacia mearnsii, Gliricidia sepium, Chinese teak, Lantana camara, and eucalyptus, among others.
A common link among these species is their introduction through greening programs. For over 200 years, India has experimented with tree plantations, a practice that began in the mid-18th century during British rule. At the time, forest officials extensively planted European and North American pines in the Himalayan region, and introduced Australian acacia species. In Delhi, they planted Prosopis juliflora, while in Kerala, eucalyptus trees were introduced.
“They brought over 40 species to the Nilgiri plateau, including cinchona, eucalyptus, acacias, pines, and Cedrus deodara," says Rajat Nayak from the Foundation for Ecological Research Advocacy and Learning (FERAL).
The introduction and planting of these species continued under various forestry programs, even after the end of British rule. "Non-native species were often used in greening programs, particularly in arid regions," says Chetan Misher, a biologist at the Ashoka Trust for Research in Ecology and the Environment. For instance, in the 1950s, river damming increased soil salinity in Gujarat’s Banni grasslands. To combat this, Prosopis juliflora, a salt-tolerant tree from South America, was introduced in the 1960s.

Even recent government initiatives, such as the National Agroforestry Policy (2014) and the National Mission for a Green India, continued to introduce fast-growing exotic species like eucalyptus and exotic poplars. Other species, like Lantana camara, were introduced for beautification.
While these trees were meant to combat climate change and increase green cover, they instead dominated ecosystems, often to the detriment of native biodiversity. In other words: they became invasive.
The International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN), an international organisation working in the field of nature conservation and sustainable use of natural resources, lists invasive alien species (IAS) as non-native organisms that pose a threat to biodiversity, ecosystem services, or human well-being. A 2022 study published in Biological Invasions reveals that India is home to more than 2,000 alien species. Further, in 2023, when scientists from India and six other countries compiled an inventory of plants introduced in South Asian countries that have become IAS, the country topped the list with 185 such plant species.

Among them is the notorious Lantana camara, which finds a mention among 100 of the World's Worst Invasive Alien Species. It alone has invaded 44% of India’s forests, threatening tiger habitats, competing with native flora, and reducing available foliage for herbivores. Similarly, more than 50% of Gujarat’s Banni grasslands have transformed from grassy plains into dense, woody thickets dominated by Prosopis juliflora. Invasive alien species like eucalyptus, acacia, Lantana camara and Senna spectabilis have also reduced food availability in forests, pushing wildlife into human settlements and farmlands.
It’s resulted in a sharp rise in human-wildlife conflict. In Kerala, for instance, according to the forest department data, there were 7966 wildlife attacks in 2021-22. Most of these conflicts were with farmers living near forested areas. Almost every district in the state has reported such incidents.
Invasive species also contribute to the spread of wildfires, hinder the regeneration of native flora, and deplete resources essential to local communities. They are more adaptable and capable of thriving in diverse environments, making them better suited to cope with the effects of climate change. “While there are no precise estimates of the total area impacted by IAS, they tend to thrive in areas that offer a combination of sunlight and moisture,” says Karuna Jha, a conservationist focused on forest preservation in Jharkhand.
Findings reveal that invasive species increase water loss through transpiration, which reduces stream flows and affects water availability for drinking and power generation, especially during dry periods.
Ultimately, their spread can significantly reduce native biodiversity. For example, the unique montane grasslands of the Nilgiris, home to endemic species like the Nilgiri Tahr and Nilgiri Pipit, face a serious conservation threat due to these invasives. In Kerala, the elephant population has shrunk to 2,386 in 2023, a decline of 58.19% compared to the elephant count of 5,706 in 2017, as per data released by the state forest department. Experts believe that invasive plants have a role to play in this decline.
Researchers have also been studying the effects of invasive species on the hydrological and nutrient cycles in the Upper Nilgiris. “Their findings reveal that invasive species increase water loss through transpiration, which reduces stream flows and affects water availability for drinking and power generation, especially during dry periods. Additionally, they’ve found that areas invaded by woody plants face increased flood risks due to reduced water retention and higher runoff during heavy rains, along with greater phosphate and nitrate outflows,” says Nayak.
Yet, despite the widespread presence of invasive plants, their economic impact remains vastly under-researched in India compared to that of invasive animals. But it will be profound. A 2022 study by Bang and colleagues estimated that India had incurred $127 billion in damages over the last six decades due to the cost of managing invasive alien species, averaging $2-3 billion annually.
Which means that preventing the spread of invasive species is the most effective and cost-efficient strategy for management—though easier said than done. India, a signatory to the Bonn Challenge, has committed to restoring 26 million hectares of degraded land by 2030. It needs data validation. “To identify a forest in a 30-by-30-pixel satellite image, sufficient tree cover on the ground is necessary. This requires planting trees more densely than the natural 10-40% canopy cover. Only fast-growing species like teak, eucalyptus, and bamboo can grow quickly enough to be detected by satellite," says Jha.
Reports like the India State of Forest Report (ISFR) 2021, which indicate an increase in India's tree and forest cover, often count areas dominated by invasive species as “forest cover”. This can distort perceptions of the country's ecological health.
Still, it’s not yet a lost cause. Some states have begun to address the issue. In 2023, New Delhi’s forest and wildlife department issued a tender to eradicate both Prosopis juliflora and Lantana camara from a 132-hectare area in the southern ridge. Kerala's 2021 Ecorestoration Policy states that "plants like Lantana, Mikania, and Senna, which are not suitable for our environment and are adversely affecting the habitats, will be removed on a war-footing, and soil and water conservation measures shall be taken up to aid the growth of native indigenous plant species”.

And following an order from the Madras High Court, the Tamil Nadu Government released a draft policy on the "control and removal of invasive alien plant species and restoration of habitats." This policy emphasises removing invasive species and restoring grasslands in the Nilgiris and Palani Hills, with a strong focus on scientifically monitoring outcomes.
We need to move from 'reforestation' to 'ecosystem restoration’.
"Currently, efforts to remove acacia, which thrive in the area, involve cutting the trees at ground level," says Mohan Kumar, a farmer from the Niligiri district, "but this method is ineffective as acacia coppices easily and has a large seed bank in the soil that germinates readily after rainfall. More research is needed to develop better removal practices and to address related issues like soil erosion and sediment outflows.”
Ultimately, Misher emphasises that a paradigm shift in policy is the need of the hour: “We need to move from 'reforestation' to 'ecosystem restoration’. Planting trees in grasslands and deserts is not reforestation; it's the degradation of these ecosystems. It's crucial to recognise the value of diverse ecosystems, like deserts and grasslands, and prioritise restoring them rather than blanket afforestation."
When tough times hit, this woman turned to the earth for answers
Gowramma’s story is grounded in the land she tends. She’s seen firsthand how the land changes with the climate, the culture, and the relentless push toward unsustainable agriculture.
She speaks with the confidence of someone who’s been through tough times and emerged even stronger. Her philosophy is simple: care for the cow, care for the earth, and the rest will follow.
For Gowramma, farming is about more than just yield; it’s about health, empowerment, and reconnecting with nature, something she passionately believes the world desperately needs.
In this candid interview, she shares her insights, hardships, and hard-earned wisdom on organic farming, the role of women in agriculture, and the urgent need to protect our earth.
How did it all start?
We started growing greens, and they turned out well, so we shared them with family. Then I thought, why not take it further? We cleared out the grapes and slowly began growing different things. In 2018, Spudnik came. We learned about desi (local) breeds and others, and that’s when we realised just how important our health is.
As a woman, what hardships did you face when you initially?
In the beginning, it was nothing but hardships. We only had one borewell with just an inch of water, making things extremely difficult (tears up).
Our children were small, the yield was small, and I didn’t know what to do. But the Kisan Sangh gave me confidence and guidance. They supported me when my family was hesitant, and my friends and the Sangh stood by me like a mother. I can’t forget them.
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Do you think women should pursue organic farming? What are the benefits of rearing animals in this process?
If you want to do organic farming, you must have animals. The desi cow is like a urea bank. You need animals like dogs, chickens, sheep, and goats to produce Jeevanmrutha. In just 1 kg of cow dung, there are millions of microorganisms. Take care of the cow, and you won’t even need to go for walks. Farmers should always be in aarmba (X), shouldn’t have muktaya (X).
Cow urine, or gomutra, is essential. I drink a little every morning for kashayam. Cow dung is vital for Jeevanmrutha, manure, earthworm pits, and even cleaning the yard. Without cows, we can’t sustain the earth. We’re losing local cow breeds, just like we’re losing traditional rice varieties. HF cows are useless. We need desi cows to help the earth.
What do you grow on your land, and why?
I sometimes have 10 to 50 plants. Growing only one or two crops leads to losses. We’ve grown bottle gourd with chilli underneath and greens, too. Multi-cropping increases profit, though it requires more work. But I’d rather work 6 hours in the field than 12 in an office.
How do you protect your crops, and how important is that in organic farming?
If a human dies, they return to the earth. If we ruin the earth, will humans survive? We need to care for the earth. Whatever I grow, we eat first. Farmers are crucial to the nation, and we should feed poison-free food to society. All children are our children, so I don’t feed poison.

What methods do you use to save the soil?
We use earthworm manure, banana and jaggery spray, and Jeevanmrutha. I prepare everything – 1 kg of organic jaggery, 2 litres of buttermilk, mixed with curd. After 40 days, the concoction is ready for use.
Can a small-scale farmer be self-sustaining with organic methods? How can they pass this knowledge to the next generation?
It’s not about how much land you have; be grateful for what you’ve got and cultivate it. Mother Earth will give you what you need. Even with half an acre, you can survive. Four gunthas (x)is also enough.
Did our ancestors use chemicals? Pesticide companies converted us. Our grandfathers raised many children without these things – why can’t we?
What other organic practices do you use?
The soil needs to be prepared. If the earth is ready, everything else falls into place. We mix 10 kg of mud with 5 litres of milk and spray it for 10 days—that’s enough.
Climate change is a big issue today. What changes have you seen, and what problems do farmers face?
People have ruined the climate, not the gods. There are no trees anymore because we’ve cut them down. Instead of blaming the climate, we should plant trees. In our land, the earth is still fine, but it’s getting hotter. We need to create a good climate by planting trees, which will also prevent diseases.
What advice do you have for future generations?
We need to teach the next generation by getting them involved in fieldwork. If we don’t, they’ll become lazy. Just like a plant needs to bend to grow, they need to learn the value of hard work and not get too comfortable. Along with their studies, they should also learn hands-on skills. Kids today are sharp, so they can pick things up quickly.
How do you see women’s empowerment in farming? How have you progressed, and what can other women learn?
At first, I depended on my husband for everything. But now I do things myself. Women should spend time on their land instead of watching TV. We’re powerful and capable of being self-sufficient. We shouldn’t depend on men for everything. I decided to go organic even when others didn’t. My husband used to say I ruined him, but I don’t care—I tell him, “This is who I am.” I’m healthier now, I’ve lost weight, and my eyesight has improved. My mother is 95 years old and still active. Why can’t we do the same? We need to teach our children to work hard.
Can you share your thoughts on organic farming?
Organic farming is essential for our health. We need to reflect on where we went wrong and reconnect with nature. Why wouldn’t you get a good yield if you work hard? Good health doesn’t just happen—you need to take responsibility for it. Society needs to change its mindset.
(Image Credits: Sreejith M, Nevin T, Harshith V)
The collective turns hibiscus and butterfly pea flowers into teas and jams
Farmer's Share, located on the banks of Nila River in Shoranur, Kerala, is more than a farm – it's a working example of how people and nature can live in harmony. Started in 2017 on a 10-acre leased plot, this space has become a hub for permaculture and traditional crafts.
Here Ambrose Kooliyath, his wife Mini Elizabeth, and their two sons, Amal and Akhil are quietly working towards their dream of creating a self-sustaining community by practising different crafts like hand spinning, weaving, natural dyeing, pottery, architecture, papermaking, soap making, food processing and baking.

Ambrose, who served as the Ernakulam district secretary of Gandhi Yuva Mandal, was instrumental in the Swasraya Vypin initiative, which aimed to make the island of Vypin self-reliant. Following this, he and his associates founded "Grasshopper," a naturopathy restaurant in Ernakulam. Ambrose's journey then led him to Bangalore, where he launched the Lumière Organic Project. It was during this period that he, along with like-minded individuals, established Farmer's Share in Shoranur.

Farmer’s Share is a trust that includes a variety of individuals with different backgrounds and skills including Manoj IB, an environmental activist; Sachu Muralidharan, who focuses on mindfulness practices; Meera, who works with nature; Kavya George, who runs the handmade paper-making unit of Farmer’s Share; and Rashid Ahmed and Sasi Memuri, who are both artists.
The collective is grounded in the principles of Gram Swaraj, a concept that advocates for the self-reliance of villages and localities in governance, livelihoods, and the production and distribution of resources. The collective constantly experiments with new ideas to support eco-friendly living.
There is a danger that looms over every society. We’ve lost the education that instils responsibility towards local resources
“As a collective, we strive to make products that add value to our social lives,” says Ambrose Kooliyath. “The quality of a product depends on the producer’s understanding of social, economic, and environmental issues. Our vision is a self-sufficient society built on meaningful transactions and ready for positive change.”
Ambrose believes the society has become too disconnected from local resources with the rise of the monetary system. “There is a danger that looms over every society. We’ve lost the education that instils responsibility towards local resources,” he says.
“Money doesn’t provide security – it’s a misconception. Happiness comes from limited consumption, and despite the challenges, I believe it’s possible to turn a village into a self-sufficient community where people control their own lives.”
Today, many farmers struggle because they can't control the prices of their crops. But by making value-added products, they can set their own prices and gain some financial stability.

"I’ve been working with Farmer’s Share since its early days. Ambrose asked for a range of crops like ginger, turmeric, pepper, yam, banana, mango, and jackfruit. Now we’re also growing hibiscus and butterfly pea to meet their needs. I get much better prices for my products than I would in the regular market, and sometimes we trade goods instead of money. If every village had a project like Farmer’s Share, farmers like me could lead more dignified lives," says Paul KJ, an organic farmer from Kolezhi, Thrissur.
In India, there are countless opportunities to create value-added products. For instance, fruits that are often wasted could be turned into wine with 2-3% natural alcohol. Unfortunately, state governments often stop these efforts by citing current laws.
Farmer’s Share offers a diverse range of (around 50) food products, including value-added items made from hibiscus and butterfly pea flowers. These plants are not only easy to cultivate but also require minimal water. With a lifespan of three to four years, they provide a reliable and sustainable source of income for farmers.
Both hibiscus and butterfly pea flowers are used to create sarbath. Unlike the synthetic options available in the market, Farmer’s Share offers two natural varieties of sarbath made from these flowers. The drinks come in vibrant red and blue, blended with Naruneendi (Indian Sarsaparilla) and sweetened with palm jaggery, making them healthier and more natural.
The white and blue varieties of butterfly pea flowers and hibiscus are used to make jam and tea pellets. The jam is made by mixing the flowers with pulped white gourd. Tea pellets come in nearly seven flavours, including cinnamon, cardamom, dried ginger, and mint. They have also experimented with incorporating drumstick leaves into the tea pellets and exploring the use of pollen in cookies and soap. Another unique product is honey infused with the essence of these flowers.
Seasonal fruits like mango and jackfruit, as well as vegetables and yam, are transformed into various products using coconut vinegar.
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Hibiscus is packed with vitamin C and supports your immune system. It aids digestion, helps restore balance, and has anti-aging benefits. In Ayurvedic medicine, butterfly pea is valued for its ability to boost memory, reduce stress, and act as a natural antidepressant. Its high antioxidant levels help fight fatigue and energise you.
"I have been using Farmer’s Share products such as hibiscus tea, hibiscus jam, coconut vinegar, turmeric pickle, orange vinegar, and Shankupushpam-Nannari concentrate for over four years. I believe the secret to their incredible taste lies in the way they are processed, with complete dedication and a genuine desire to create the best. The hibiscus tea, in particular, is incredibly refreshing for both my mind and body," says Satish CJ, a retired KSEB engineer from Ernakulam.

Ambrose believes farmers can easily market their value-added products independently, setting their own prices. These products can be made manually, requiring minimal technology investment, which makes them an accessible option for farmers looking for sustainable livelihoods. Initially, Farmer’s Share relied on exhibitions for marketing, but they have now moved to online platforms to save on the high costs of physical events.
I don’t want to develop a centralised system that relies on external resources; we cultivate the flowers we need on our own premises
“People visit us and get inspired, but instead of producing their own value-added products, they ask if I could buy their flowers. They are not interested in the production process. I am not focused on the exponential growth of this enterprise but would rather see small groups engage in similar activities to support their lives. We can provide the knowledge for others to produce value-added products from their harvests, allowing them to create their own unique blends and flavours. I don’t want to develop a centralised system that relies on external resources; we cultivate the flowers we need on our own premises,” says Ambrose.
After harvesting, the flowers are dried in a dryer for about two days. Sun drying is avoided to keep their vibrant colour. To prevent hibiscus flowers from fading, they are sprayed with lemon juice. Once dried, the flowers can be stored for up to six months before being turned into final products.
The dried flowers are then ground into powder to make tea pellets. For sarbath, a herbal decoction is prepared, and the necessary flavours are added.
The final products are packaged in glass bottles. However, there are challenges due to the lack of suitable glass bottles and caps for canning without preservatives. Many bottle tops do not meet the required standards, which increases the risk of water or air entering the bottles during canning, potentially causing spoilage before the expiration date. This issue can affect marketing, as complaints about a few defective bottles might lead to concerns about the quality of the entire batch.
Farmer’s Share is a movement towards a more sustainable and thoughtful way of living. By producing value-added products, the collective empowers farmers to set their own prices and reduces their dependence on fluctuating markets.
I have not sought a patent for my innovations, nor do I see the need for one. I believe that knowledge should be freely shared, not restricted by patents, which I consider a form of injustice
"Arangottukara Krishi Patashala and Farmer’s Share have had a long-standing relationship, exchanging products and services. Farmer’s Share takes rice, ragi, and fruits from us, and we, in turn, purchase their vibrant, flavorful, and aromatic products. I believe the quality of these products reflects the values held by the producers. We are happy to sell our produce to someone who truly cares about human well-being and the sustainability of nature. What makes the relationship special is not just the eco-friendly products, but also the simple and transparent atmosphere of the centre. Occasionally, we are even invited to organise cultural programs and theatre performances," says KV Sreeja, who is part of the Patashala near Pattambi.
And with its commitment to eco-friendly practices, Farmer’s Share is helping shape a future where small, self-sustaining communities can thrive. “I believe human beings can learn from their mistakes and return to the right path. Humans are creatures of hope and optimism, capable of creating a new world order through conviction and clarity,” says Ambrose.
“I have not sought a patent for my innovations, nor do I see the need for one. I believe that knowledge should be freely shared, not restricted by patents, which I consider a form of injustice,” he adds.
Why vibrant reds and supersized fruits are taking over the valley
Javaid Ahmad Dar, 55, an apple farmer from Reshipora in Kashmir's Shopian district, switched his entire orchard to a different apple variety a few years ago. Like many apple growers in the valley, he replaced the traditional Delicious apples with a newer type, called High-Density apples. Two varieties, Italy and Red Gala, are becoming especially popular.
Javaid believes that in this business, it's more important to focus on what consumers want than on which apples are technically better. He said, "Italy (new variety) apples have bright colors and large sizes, which attract more buyers." That's why he decided to replace his old apple trees with these newer, trendier varieties.

Apple farming is a key industry in Kashmir, preferred over other crops. Kashmir produces about 1.7 million metric tonnes of apples and contributes 75% of India's total apple production, with exports reaching 1.8 million metric tonnes annually.
Most farmers in Kashmir grow Delicious apples, known for their dull red-green skin and a sweet-sour, crisp taste. However, buyers prefer apples with brighter colours, which is why many growers have switched to high-density varieties like Italy and Red Gala. These types are red but have a bland taste and lower nutritional value.
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Like many farmers, Javaid Ahmad’s choice paid off financially. “For 11 years, my traditional apple orchard only produced 2 tonnes of apples. But after just one year of switching to the Italian variety, we made a profit of 1 lakh,” he shared.
Our Delicious apples taste much better, but buyers only care about the colour, not the flavour
Shabir Ahmad, a 52-year-old farmer from Pulwama, 35 km south of Srinagar, also replaced his old trees with Italian apples for better earnings. “Our Delicious apples taste much better, but buyers only care about the colour, not the flavour,” Shabir said.
Another reason for the shift is the advantages of the new apple varieties. They produce higher yields with less effort and are more resistant to pests. These trees are easier to manage and give a much larger harvest compared to traditional ones. Plus, they’re ready for harvest almost a month earlier.

“The new varieties are easy to grow, cost less to maintain, and harvesting is much less work than with the older types. Most importantly, market demand is higher, and profits are much better,” Shabir said.
Financially, there's no comparison between the two. Demand for traditional apples has dropped while supply has increased.
Ayaz Mir, an apple farmer from Wangam, 18 km from the Anantnag district in Kashmir, recently switched to Italy apples. “We used to get Rs 900 to 1,200 per box of Delicious apples, but now it’s selling for just Rs 600 to 700. That’s a poor return for such a product,” he said. However, Italy and Red Gala apples are different – their boxes sell for nearly double.
Experts believe the fruit market today is all about appearance.
“As buyers, people are drawn first to colour and size. Taste and nutrition come second, especially in Asia. That’s where the new high-density apple varieties outshine traditional Kashmiri apples. Kashmiri varieties are harvested later, have less vibrant colour, and face growth and yield issues. In contrast, the high-yield Italy apples are self-pollinating, harvested earlier, have better size, colour, and disease resistance, making them more cost-effective,” said Inaam Mir, 32, founder of The Garden Guardians, a horticulture consultancy. He added that these changes are necessary for farmers to stay competitive.
While Italy and Red Gala apples have a shorter lifespan, they produce 5-6 times more than traditional varieties. This allows farmers to earn much more in a shorter period with less effort. Inaam explained, “High-density apple trees can be planted at 166 trees per hectare, compared to just 10 traditional trees. So, even if prices drop, the higher production ensures farmers still make a profit.”
Mohd. Younis Dar, manager of the only cold store in Anantnag, said the main reason farmers are switching to new varieties like Italy and Red Gala is that they start producing fruit within two years of planting.
“The demand for Red Gala and Italy apples is growing each year,” he said. “In 2019, we received around 20,000 high-density boxes, in 2020 it jumped to 100,000, in 2021 and 2022 we got over 150,000 boxes, and in 2023, more than 250,000. This clearly shows that high-density varieties are gaining popularity.”
One of the biggest and long-lasting impacts of the shift to new apple varieties could be the disappearance of native Kashmiri types like Ambri and Maharaji. These apples, known for their unique fragrance and taste, are almost no longer grown because they require a lot of care and aren't financially viable. This sudden switch to new varieties could lead to their extinction.
"Kashmiri Ambri is on the verge of extinction. We rarely see it anymore, and we Kashmiris had a deep connection to it. It’s one of the tastiest apples in the world, and we should never lose it. But with the rise of new varieties, reviving it is becoming harder,” said Dr Tariq, a well-known plant pathologist and professor at SKAUST, Kashmir’s leading agricultural university.
Ayaz Mir also emphasised the need to preserve these native apples. “If new varieties replace our traditional orchards, the value of Kashmiri apples will decline. Our identity is tied to our traditional apples, and we must protect them at all costs," he said.
These apples, with their distinct traits, aren’t grown anywhere else in the world. If they go extinct, the world will lose some of the most unique apples, known for their fragrance, taste, and nutritional value.
If new varieties replace our traditional orchards, the value of Kashmiri apples will decline. Our identity is tied to our traditional apples, and we must protect them at all costs
The main challenge with growing these native varieties is the amount of care they require. They’re prone to disease, have low yields, and take about six years to bear fruit, compared to two or three years for hybrid types. This makes them less attractive to farmers. On top of that, there’s low demand due to their less vibrant colour.

While the new apple varieties look appealing, are easier to grow, and bring in more profit for farmers, experts warn that switching from traditional types could significantly reduce nutritional value. Red Delicious apples, for instance, are much more nutritious, offering 8% more protein, 9.09% more phosphorus, 1.67 times more lipids, 0.92g less sucrose, 1.96 times more vitamin A (IU), 28.57% more copper, and three times more vitamin A (RAE) per 100 grams compared to Red Gala and Italy apples.
"Delicious apples are undoubtedly more nutrient-rich and healthier," said Dr. Tariq. "If given the option, people should choose this variety over Italy and Red Gala because of its superior nutritional value," he added.
While switching from Delicious to Italy apples is more profitable and easier for farmers, it could cause problems in the long run. Experts and farmers worry that large-scale conversion to Italy could eventually harm the region's apple industry. A massive supply of these apples could drive down prices, making them less profitable. "There's no doubt that the demand and prices for the new variety are high right now, but what happens in 10-12 years? As these high-density varieties become more common, prices will drop because supply will increase while demand stays the same," said Ayaz. He added, "People will realise these apples only have colour, not taste, and will start seeking out more flavorful and nutritious apples like Delicious."
Dr. Tariq emphasised the need for balance between traditional and new varieties to maintain the long-term health of the apple sector. He believes it's crucial not only financially but also for production stability. "I recommend keeping a 60:40 ratio of new to traditional apples. If high-density varieties completely replace the traditional ones and, God forbid, there’s a disease outbreak, it could devastate the industry, as some diseases target specific types. That’s why diversity is key," he said.
Migrant labourers like Om Prakash risk everything to survive
Om Prakash and Premkali, landless workers in the dalit hamlet of Mohatra (Banda district, Uttar Pradesh) were becoming increasingly tense as food stocks dwindled rapidly and moneylenders harassed them for repaying loans. Their biggest worry was how to feed their three young children.
Like many other Dalits in their village and nearby areas, they accepted an advance from a labour contractor and ended up working at a distant brick kiln in Gwalior, bringing their children along.
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At the brick kiln, Prakash and Kali worked tirelessly, but things took a turn when Prakash fell ill. As his condition worsened, the owner told the whole family to leave immediately. In the scorching heat of May, Premkali somehow managed to get a rickshaw to take all five of them to the Gwalior railway station, but Om Prakash died on the way. On finding her crying uncontrollably, some railway and police officials arranged for them to be sent to their village with the dead body.
Now back in the village, Premkali has no idea how she'll raise her children. All the families there are landless, with limited employment opportunities locally – and even those pay very little. As a result, many are forced to migrate to distant places, often facing unsafe and exploitative working conditions.

Delhi is a major destination for migrant workers. At various labour chowks, workers gather to find daily wage jobs. Talking to some of them, I learned that newer migrants often live together in rented rooms and don't have access to subsidised food or other benefits available to most city residents. When I asked why they have not made use of the government's recent decision to make village ration cards operational in cities too, they said that this may exist on paper, but ration dealers do not accept this.
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Things got worse for these migrant workers when the lockdown was announced during the pandemic. With no food reserves and no money for rent, they were forced to walk hundreds of miles back to their villages.
Pappu from Naugawa said he walked about 800 km from Surat to his village in Banda district. He reached here in 26 days, then spent another 15 miserable days in quarantine. Bhaiyaram Lakshman, from the same village, walked from Hyderabad but managed to get some lifts along the way, reaching home in 15 days with swollen, blistered feet. Karim Chacha said his four sons, who worked in Hyderabad, walked the entire way back to the village. During quarantine, these workers had to be fed by their families, even though their families were already struggling with hunger themselves.
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In Bhanwarpur village, Butu broke down as he talked about the struggles his three sons faced walking all the way from Delhi with a larger group. I also met some families, including young children, who had walked about 500 km from Delhi, occasionally getting lifts along the way.
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Their hardships were eased somewhat by food and other supplies provided by a voluntary group, Vidyadham Samiti (VDS). This organisation also helped some of the migrant workers return to farming their small, neglected plots. In an inspiring effort, around 50 Dalits from Bhanwarpur, including many women, formed a committee to partially revive a small river, improving farming opportunities and increasing crop yields.
While supporting these efforts, VDS has also called for better implementation of rural employment programs under NREGA, so that even landless workers have better chances of survival in their villages.
As Raja Bhaiya, the coordinator of VDS, says, "Migration will still happen, but we can work to make sure people aren't so helpless that they have to accept any kind of exploitation. With better farming, kitchen gardens, land for the landless, water conservation, and improved implementation of NREGA and other government programs, we should ensure that people won't go hungry, even if they stay in their village. This will improve their terms even when they go out for work."
In other words, workers shouldn't be forced to migrate due to poverty and hunger, which pushes them into accepting exploitative conditions. But right now, many villages face this harsh reality. One particularly heartbreaking story I heard during a drought was about a woman who didn't want to leave with her husband because their young daughter was very sick. However, her husband convinced her, saying they had to go or they'd have no food. She reluctantly agreed, holding her baby close. Sadly, just a few miles into their bus journey, the baby passed away, and the couple had to return to arrange the funeral.
Extreme hunger and deprivation, worsened by frequent droughts, hailstorms, floods, and other disasters linked to climate change, must be addressed. To fix this, we need programs focused on justice and equality. Unfortunately, land reforms and distributing land to the landless have been almost forgotten. There's plenty of land that could be given to the landless simply by removing illegal encroachments by powerful people, but this has been ignored. In addition, of course, protection measures for migrant workers should be better implemented.
At a recent meeting of Chingari, a leading women's organisation in Banda district and nearby areas, women from poor rural households strongly demanded that the local labour department register all outgoing workers. They called for a system that helps workers facing exploitation or bondage in distant places by providing assistance, including rescue operations. Helplines and similar services could be set up, as they have in some areas. Although several laws and policies already exist to protect migrant workers, they haven't been properly enforced.
An overlooked issue is the elderly parents or grandparents left behind in villages, often without enough food or basic necessities. In some cases, children are also left behind to live in difficult conditions with elderly relatives who are unable to care for them properly.
The situation for children who travel with their parents to work sites like brick kilns can be extremely harsh, especially for girls who are more vulnerable to sexual exploitation. In one tragic case I reported, a teenage girl had migrated with her mother and brother. When her employer attempted to molest her, her brother stepped in to defend her and was killed. The girl was so traumatised that she would faint whenever the incident was discussed. Despite several efforts to seek justice, nothing had been achieved by the time of reporting.
Incidents like this emphasise the urgent need for widespread justice and development programs in villages where workers are at risk of falling into exploitative migrant labour. Providing land to the poorest families, helping them cultivate it, and ensuring better implementation of NREGA and other government programs are essential steps to prevent such tragedies.
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