Title

Who will see the light?

Challenges and Survival of Tribals in the context of Displacement from the
forest and natural resources and due to proposed Nuclear Power Project in
Madhya Pradesh

Research and Documentation

Annie Zaidi

Presented by
Rolly Shivhare
Who will see the light?
Cover page designed by
Challenges for Survival of Tribals in context of
Amit Saxena
Displacement and proposed Nuclear Power Project in M.P

Printed by
MSP Offset
A Diary
by Year & Month of Publication
Annie Zaidi 2011, May

Copies
500

Publisher
Vikas Samvad
E-7/226, First Floor, Opp. Dhanvantri Complex, Arera Colony, Shahpura,
Bhopal, Madhya Pradesh, India
Phone - 91 755 4252789 / Email - vikassamvad@gmail.com
Website - www.mediaforrights.org

Disclaimer
The analysis in this document is based on the views and thoughts of the people
interviewed and the organizations working for the protection of their rights.
The researcher has included official views and cited state figures as far as possible,
but efforts to expand on the state view were sadly restricted since the concerned
authorities did not always respond to queries or agree to meetings.

Supported by - Jamsetji Tata Trust

 Who will see the light ?
Challenges for Survival of Tribals in the context of
Displacement from the forest and natural resources and due
to proposed Nuclear Power Project in Madhya Pradesh

A Research diary by
Annie Zaidi

Published by

Vikas Samvad
Madhya Pradesh
 Index
Acknowledgements I

Introduction II

What happened in Chutka 1

Chutka: Will the state see the light ? 5

Officials' Stand 16

Recent developments 19

Lifestyle 23

Livelihoods in the villages visited, impact of 23

relocation thus far and interface with the state.

Farming families 23

Fish! Or a look at how careers get drowned 40

Past and present 45

New project, old mistakes 48

R&R Policy: a brief comment 51

Bichhiya: A guide to brewing discontent 55

Arrests and economic impact of the loss of the forest 55

Legal view 64 Acknowledgements

Displacement and forest-dwelling tribes
Economic independence, food security, health negatives
Other dangers
The park view
Basics: A few things to remember about Madhya Pradesh
while discussing displacement and deforestation
Basics: A few things to remember about
power generation in India
Conclusion
Chief concerns:
People's reasons for not wanting to relocate
Solution
Betrayed by the tongue
The school of snatch: a summation
69 This document call it a report, a research diary, a trip with an
agenda, anything you like began as a whim.
69
I have been in touch with Vikas Samvad for a few years now since
77 I'd been working on multiple stories relating to hunger and
displacement in Madhya Pradesh for Frontline. After I quit my
79 job, I wanted to spend a few days in a village to see what it is really
like rather than dash in and out in typical paratrooper-journo
82 style. But India is full of villages with problems where was I to go?
Sachin Jain helped narrow down the choice to Mandla and
Chutka, where the community had been displaced before and
85 was likely to be displaced again, and later to Bichhiya where a
different kind of trouble brews. Not just that, he said I may as
well do a report while I was at it.
87
So let me begin by thanking Sachin Jain, and the rest of the Vikas
87 Samvad team who helped organize this trip and provided the
basis upon which I could build this exploratory document.
87
I am also grateful to Rajkumar Sinha and his colleague for
90 meeting me in Jabalpur, and sharing a wealth of information,
apart from his own memories.
91
I owe a lot to Navratan Dubey and his wife for information,
97 guidance and for opening up his home to me.

Annexure 1 100 Similarly, I owe a debt of gratitude to Vivek Pawar and his family
for letting me stay and feeding me over and above my protests.
Annexure 2 102 Vivek introduced me to the villagers in Bichhiya and gave me
perspective, insights and lot of existing research material.

I
Many thanks to Rajivan, for the use of his office in Mandla, and
for sharing his own experience of working with tribal
communities in the area. And also to Sanjay, for ferrying me
hither and thither, always with a smile.
Most of all, I owe this report to the people who agreed to talk to
me their names are too many to list on a single page and in any
case, this report is full of their stories although I landed up
without appointment and had nothing to give them but the
temporary loan of my ears.
I'd also like to thank the government officials who agreed to
meet me or responded to my phone calls they will find
themselves as they read ahead. Even if this report sounds slightly
critical, I request them not to take offense and to remember
that finally, we are all on one side, and that side is called India.
II
Introduction
The following document looks at two broad and currently
evolving situations in Madhya Pradesh in the context of
displacement and tribes.
First, it examines the state decision to build and operate a
nuclear power project in Chutka, a hamlet in Mandla district
where the tribal population is in a majority. The project is being
bitterly opposed and while the environment ministry is yet to
give the project a green signal, there are fears that it soon will. If
that happens, it will lead to a second displacement for people
who have already been displaced once before.
Two, it looks at the harassment of forest-dwelling tribes like the
Baiga, who live in or around national parks like Kanha (also part
of Mandla district). Stringent tiger protection measures have
translated into economic and legal problems for tribal people
even though they are not implicated in poaching activities.
I intend to look at these two situations from the perspective of
the local populations, to allow them to voice their fears in the
light of their recent history, and to analyze state policy on
relocation and rehabilitation with particular reference to the gap
between theory and practice. Finally, I intend to point out that
people can and have thought through the problems of
relocation and come up with their own solutions, if only the
state chooses to take them into confidence and treat their
suggestions with respect.
III
What happened in Chutka

It was one of those things they'd been hearing about for

decades: the 'parmanu' was going to come. The eighties became
the nineties and the nineties became the noughties but there
was no sign of the 'parmanu' not until October 2009.

Even so, they wouldn't have believed that the 'parmanu' was
well and truly on its way not until the newspapers reported the
event with a distinct note of triumph dancing around the
headlines.

Raj Express on October 20, 2009, declared Mandla ko Diwali

Tohfa a headline that implies that the upcoming power plant
would be a Diwali gift for the district of Mandla. It also said that
two nuclear power with a 700 MW capacity for each unit have
been approved and will be established in Chutka village.

Now Chutka is not really a 'village' in the administrative sense. It

doesn't have its own gram sabha or panchayat. The village is part
of Patha panchayat, which includes the hamlets of Patha,
Chutka and Taatighat. Ultimately, the project will sprawl over a
large area that is likely to include land from all three hamlets.

Dainik Bhaskar (Jabalpur), on October 21 2009, underscored

the many labours of Member of Parliament Rakesh Singh, who
apparently had to use all his influence to bring the power plant
to Chutka. He sent letters to the prime minister, and to chiefs of
the nuclear energy department, and was quoted as saying that

1
the project would 'develop' all of Mahakaushal (a region in
Madhya Pradesh that includes Jabalpur, Dindori, Mandla, Seoni,
Balaghat, Chhindwara, Narsinghpur and Katni).
When such newspaper reports reached the people of Chutka and
surrounding villages, it struck them that since the 'parmanu' was
arriving, it would need a place to stay. If the project had been
given the green signal, somebody would have to go to make
room for it because currently there just isn't any land to spare.
The question was: who?
It doesn't take a nuclear scientist to figure that one out. It would
have to be the people who would have to clear out to make
room for the proposed project. In fact, the project will need
thousands of hectares of land more than Chutka alone can
provide. So the surrounding villages rubbed the sleep from their
disbelieving eyes and held meetings.
Letters were sent to Mandla, to the district administration, and
to Jabalpur and Bhopal. Explanations were demanded,
reassurances sought. Surely, they weren't going to be thrown
out of their homes, were they? Surely, not again? Because they
remembered all too clearly the events that led to their being
uprooted from the homes and fields to make way for Bargi dam,
one of the first dams on the Narmada river.
They still remember the impossible compromises, their
ignorance about land value and subsequent waves of migration
to cities. They haven't forgotten the harassment and unending
2 3
battle for their right to common resources. They can't forget
even if they want to, because they are still fighting those battles.
Simple village folk they might be, illiterate tribals they might be,
but they aren't such fools that they'd up and leave each time
someone in Bhopal or Delhi comes around waving a project
proposal. So, they sent letters saying they are not willing to
relocate under any circumstances.
On November 22, 2009, Dainik Bhaskar reported another set
of developments. It said that three villages will be moved and
300 people will be affected. That's what the divisional
commissioner Prabhat Parasher said as he visited Chutka along
with officials from the Nuclear Power Corporation of India
Limited (NPCIL). The report mentioned that people from 30-
35 villages surrounded the visiting team and talked about their
fears.
Even at this stage, after they had established direct contact with
people who were likely to be affected, the officials did not make
it clear that the project would be developed in three phases.
Parasher did not specify to the newspapers, for instance, that
that the three 'villages' they were talking about relocating could
actually be first-phase victims, with more to follow.
The figure of 'three villages' has apparently been revised to five.
Apart from three hamlets in Patha panchayat, it is likely that two
more Kunda and Bhaliwada hamlets in Kunda panchayat might
be affected during the first phase. The administration, however,
has not told them anything not yet anyway even though things
became clear when survey teams showed up one fine day and
began to measure the land.
As early as 22-12-2009, villagers had started demanding to
know what was going on. When no answers were forthcoming
from the district administration, they wrote to the chief
secretary and said they were opposed to the project. The letter
clearly states:
46 villages are opposed to the project because the
administration and government has told us nothing about it,
for instance, how many villages will be removed, how many are
likely to be affected, what impact it will have on people's
health
The letter also expressed fears that their identity will be wiped
out, their natural bond with water, forest and land will be
broken and the natural environment destroyed.
The district administration finally held a gram sabha meeting on
April 13 at Chutka to explain the project and its impact.
According to HT Live (Bhopal edition, April 17 2010), Jabalpur
Divisional Commissioner Prabhat Parasher said that nothing
would be done without taking the villagers into confidence.
But in May, survey teams arrived and began taking
measurements of the land without taking the villagers into
confidence. The villagers stopped the survey and took away the
4 5
team's instruments, claiming rightly that no steps can be taken
towards any new projects without permission from the gram
panchayat.
On December 26, 2010, a massive land rights meeting was held
in Kunda. It was attended by an estimated 2000 women and
3000 men from 54 surrounding villages. A letter to Jairam
Ramesh, central minister for forests and environment was
drafted there, saying that they still have not been told clearly
what impact the nuclear power plant may have on their health,
the health of animals and fish in the water, and the soil, plants and
forests. Another letter outlining their objections had already
been sent to the district collector on December 22, 2010.
As far as the people are concerned, a clear message is being sent
out: Nobody will tell you anything upfront or give you the
whole truth. Nobody wants to take your permission before
taking over your resources. Nobody will bother to make
concrete promises or give anything in writing. It was 1974 all
over again.
There was one difference though. This time, people have learnt
to not trust the state they have reason not to.
Chutka: Will the state see the light ?
1)
I met Dadulal Kharape in Chutka. He is from the Gond tribe, as
are most of the people in the village, and is also the president of
the Chutka Parmanu Sangharsh Samiti, a loose collective of 38
villages formed after reports that while the displacement process
may begin with just five villages, there would be three phases and
by the third phase, 38 villages (hamlets, technically speaking)
would lose land.
People around here remember the helicopters that had come to
drill holes in the land in the 1980s. Lengths of solid, smooth
stones emerged from the bores. Later, some villagers picked
these stones up and brought them home and used them to grind
masalas.
But, Dadulal says, there was no letter, no notice, nothing from
the officials. Since 1984, there has been talk of a nuclear project.
People would come and drill holes in the ground. They took
away samples of rock and sent them to be analysed. That was all.
Then we read about the project in the papers last year, but still no
official came. Then in March (2010), a visitor came. An
engineer.
People say this was Sanat Kumar Agarwal, a chief engineer from
NPCIL, accompanied by other officials. The visitors said a power
project would be set up. That was all. There was still no talk of
land acquisition or compensation.
But Chutka has some experience of land acquisition by the state.
Dadulal recalls what happened the last time they were asked to
move the government gave around Rs 2,000 per acre of fertile
6 7
land. The Bargi displacement also happened in four phases.
There were no protests initially. We had no idea. With the
compensation money, some of us tried to buy land outside. But
prices shot up immediately, since other people found out we
had ready cash in our hands. Even if we did resettle somewhere,
some of us got into conflict with other settlers over there. We
don't want to move again this time.
Manna bai, who says she has already lost eight acres to Bargi dam
and must migrate to Jabalpur to find work through most of the
year, is scornful and angry at the same time. I've grown old with
all this migrating. I will not let the project come in. All the state
karmchaari come here but so far we have not been asking: 'Why?
What are you doing?' But one of these days, 8-10 of us will get
together and push their jeep into the river, over the hills. She
grinned at me and said, If you come, we will push you over
too.
One of the major reasons people don't want to move is forest
produce. Mirabai, sanchalak of the Chutka Parmanu Sangharsh
Samiti, points out that most families supplement their income
by collecting chakoda (chicory), which is used in coffee
production. We sell it for Rs 12-14 per kilo in the Patha market
or in Narayanganj. There is also mahua, the flowers and fruit of
which are cooked and eaten, and also used to ferment our own
special liquor, and guli (mahua seeds from which oil is
extracted). There's amla, chaar (chironji), gond (gum), kosam,
which can be eaten and also used to extract oil from, and tendu
leaves, and bel fruits, and sagon seeds. Everyone goes to the
forest to collect all this and one family can get up to Rs 20,000
a year if everyone works. There are no restrictions on going into
the forest so far. We also have a van samiti, which will protest if
we are stopped. In turn, we protect the forest.
The community knows it will be impoverished in
unaccountable ways if they are relocated to a non-forest area.
As it is, life is hard for families who had to relocate in the '80s
and '90s.
Deepchand Yadav is a member of the Patha panchayat and lives
in Taatighat. He too had lost about 15 acres land to Bargi dam in
the 1980s. Though he still owns two acres and cultivates more
land when the dam waters recede, his position is by no means a
comfortable one. His family members too must queue up for
daily wage labour whenever any 'rozgar' (NREGA projects)
work comes their way.
2.
Deepchand Yadav, secretary of the Chutka Parmanu Sangharsh
Samiti (henceforth referred to as just 'Samiti'), says that a group
of villagers had met the collector of Mandla, KK Khare. He
assured us that not a brick would be laid without our approval.
But then the surveyors came. So we wouldn't let them measure
the land. He pointed out that according to the rule book, a new
project needs permission from the gram sabha. Both gram
panchyats Kunda and Patha have clearly said 'no'. Then what
8 9
makes the administration or the NCPIL, or a hired contractual
firm, send engineers to the field?
The survey team must have complained about us, Deepchand
Yadav said, because the tehsildar came down to talk to us. He
said he had the official powers to make that survey happen. We
still refused to allow it. Then the SDM came. We explained our
position. The collector came too. But no matter what, we refuse
to let them survey the land.
Navratan Dubey, one of the key organizers of the Samiti and a
former deputy sarpanch, pitches in, saying that KK Khare,
collector of Mandla, had mentioned compensation when he
visited. He said we would get Rs 40,000 per acre. They think
that is the market rate. But some people in Taatighat have sold
their land recently. It went for Rs 6 lakh an acre, and even Rs 14
lakh an acre. These amounts have been registered in the district
during the course of the sale. Yet the administration wants us to
believe that the market rate is Rs 40,000. The collector also said
quite clearly that the district has no spare land to be given in
exchange for our land. As for jobs, he said that even High
School-pass boys would not get jobs in a nuclear power
project.
The people are not anti-development (whatever definition of
'development' you apply) but the deal is a bad one no matter
which way they look at it. No fertile land, no guarantee of access
to water, not enough money, and no permanent jobs. Why
would anyone move?
They tell us that this is a good project. The area will get
developed, says Dubey. We reminded him that our village was
displaced before for the sake of Bargi dam, which was supposed
to create electricity. Yet, collector saahab was sitting in the dark
with only an oil lantern to see us by. Where is the electricity that
we made way for? Collector saahab then got up from his chair
and left quietly.
Most project-affected households had been given solar panels
attached to batteries. They still use those and manage to light a
bulb or watch some television after sundown, and charge
mobile phones. Other 'regular' electricity had also arrived a few
years ago. But meters weren't installed in every house. The
electricity department office sent a few letters. Bills began to
mount, regardless of usage, but were not paid, and finally the
supply was cut off towards the end of 2009. Taatighat residents
believe that the 'bijli-wale' (electricity department officials)
have taken away the transformer. But now the mistrust runs so
deep that people suspect that this too is an act of state
harassment, somehow linked to the Chutka protests.
They also allege that the local officials have 'unofficially
ordered' that there are to be no new development projects in the
village since it is going to be moved elsewhere. Patha's hamlets
have not been getting new work opportunities through the
NREGS recently and people are angry since a part of their
10
income comes from development works undertaken under the
scheme. Besides, people feel as if the state (they use the word
'government' and 'administration' interchangeably and see
little difference between the decisions of one or the other) is
using the NREGS to pressurize them into moving.
Their sense of betrayal is deepened when they consider their
own elected representatives. Member of Parliament Basori
Singh Masram and the MLA from Niwas, Ram Pyare Kulaste,
have separately met and assured the Samiti that they support the
protests whole-heartedly. But no real support was forthcoming.
In fact, Masram shot off a letter to Rahul Gandhi (who has
absolutely no connection with the project) specifically asking
that Chutka be chosen as the site of a nuclear power plant.
3.
After the people of Patha panchayat made it clear that the
survey wouldn't be allowed, the survey team pushed off to
Kunda instead and began setting up its equipment there.
The atmosphere in Kunda is also charged with mistrust and
people seem to be in a defensive-aggressive mood. The static in
the air is edgier here. Their neighbours put it down to the fact
that Kunda is 'settled' which means that its roots run deeper into
its land. Less than 30 percent of the predominantly Gond
population was affected by Bargi dam. Most families claim to
own land anywhere between five and twenty acres and a lot of
cows and buffaloes. They are reasonably healthy, self-sufficient,
11
close-knit, and after seeing what happened to neighbours who
had to relocate, they have dug their heels even harder. The
women of Kunda are particularly vocal and very protective of
the community, including the men.
When the surveyors showed up and began their work, they were
noticed. An observer commented and asked them to leave. The
survey team allegedly threatened to grab the man, take him
away and put him in jail. One of the women (perhaps it was
Munnibai but she is no longer willing to confirm this) saw what
was happening. She came running with a bamboo stick that was
lying nearby. Within minutes, other women had joined her. The
surveyors backed off, ran to sit in their vehicle, and finally drove
off.
This group of women has now closed ranks. When I went to visit
and asked to meet the women who were responsible for driving
the survey team away, a surly-looking bunch arrived. At first
they would not answer questions about what exactly happened.
In fact, they would not even tell me their names.
This is a natural fallout of mistrust. They did not understand that
I was not a state official but an independent researcher. Even
after I re-introduced myself and assured them that I was just
asking questions and taking notes so I could document the
situation accurately, they remained silent. After much prodding
and teasing and giggling, one by one, they gave me names. And
once one name had been told, they made sure that everybody
12
else gave their names too Munni, Jugri, Ramvati, Banto,
Sumanti, Ramya, Pehli, Guthiya, Biraj, Sapnabi. This became a
sort of reaffirmation of solidarity. They wanted me to know that
all of them were responsible for threatening the surveyors.
It is true that they did threaten the team. They charged towards
the survey team with bamboo sticks in their hands, and once the
men had taken refuge in the vehicle, the women warned them
that if they came around again, they would smash all the car
windows.
Now, the women fear repercussions. They are afraid that the
administration will hit back by sending in the police, or that I
might be a stranger 'from that side'.
Kunwar Lal, one of the men listening to their account, grinned
and nodded throughout the conversation. He said nothing that
day, but when I visited the house again a day later, he laughingly
admitted it was his brother Sukol Singh who had been the one
who first saw the surveyors and also pelted the first stone.
The survey was going on. My brother actually threw stones at
them. That was when the surveyors threatened to catch him and
put him in jail. After that, Munni and other women came with
bamboos.
The women became voluble and visibly aggressive at the very
mention of the Chutka project. This is our janambhoomi. We
won't go. We will give up our lives, not our land.
13
4.
The women of Kunda spoke all together and it was hard to make
one person speak at a time. They set about explaining their lives,
why they were so determined not to relocate (explained in the
next section) and why they are upset at outsiders walking into
the village and doing anything without their permission.
The team had already met the villagers during the baithak (the
meeting between the officials and Samiti). Taatighat and Chutka
had refused permission to survey. We said that if you try to
survey the land without our permission, we will greet you with
stones. We told them: 'How will you feel if we go and occupy
your chair?' Yet, they slunk up and tried to do it. Let them come
again, and we will damage their car.
These overt threats, as far as the women are concerned, are not
threats at all but an act of defense. We have not committed a
crime, they say. We are willing to go to jail if our ancient land
is taken away. This earth gives us enough. We are happy. We
don't need for your compensation money. If money is liquid in
our hands, people get after you. Thieves will come. You will eat
well for a year or two and then the money is finished.
The conversation begins to spill into other aspects of their lives.
They collect firewood from the nearest stretch of forest. Some
of them have visited cities and know that urban women use
multiple conveniences such as buses, rickshaws and gas stoves.
Even though nobody has yet made them offers of gas cylinders
14
or stoves by way of compensation, it is an offer they have
already rejected in their minds. Don't promise to give us gas,
they said. We know we will need a refill every two months.
Where will the gas come from? All we need is our forest and our
wood and some dry leaves to cook. We cannot manage in cities.
We cannot even cross the road.
Not that anybody's asking what they want. In fact, nobody's
listening even to what they don't want.
Shrilal Margud, also a resident of Kunda, says, The government
has made a very wrong decision. Why don't you go and give
trouble to those who don't know what trouble is the pain of
leaving home, your bhoomi? We cannot make such big houses
again anywhere else.
5.
News reports say that 3000 acres will be needed for the project.
In addition, there were reports that a meeting was held in
Mumbai and that the divisional commissioner Prabhat Parasher
attended that meeting. He is quoted as having said that land
acquisition would not pose a problem.
This, when villagers have taken a letter to Parasher's office
explaining their position. They have even organized rallies in
Jabalpur, which is where his office is, so it is unlikely that the
regional commissioner is not aware of their opposition. The
question to ask is not 'does he know?' but 'why does he not care?'
15
Parasher has not explained his actions. Meanwhile, health is a
very real concern at the moment. People are aware now that the
original plans for a nuclear plant in Madhya Pradesh were
located in Guna, but the officials couldn't find ground hard or
rocky enough. Besides, there wasn't enough water and too
much population. Hence, Chutka.
The community feels it is saddled with the project because of its
relatively sparse population. Dubey says that about 3 people per
km will be affected if the project comes through. Besides, there is
very solid rock under the surface of the soil. Dubey recalls that in
1983 or 1984, a team had come in a helicopter to survey the area
and drilled holes. He points to stone and square concrete stubs
left at the spots where the survey team had decided to locate the
core of the nuclear plant. But the Bhopal gas tragedy, he
believes, scared a lot of people, even in the government and
bureaucracy, and plans for nuclear expansion went into cold
storage.
Officials' Stand
The current standoff will probably stay that way, for now. While
I was in Chutka and Taatighat, news floated in about the
Ministry of Environment and Forests having turned down the
proposal. There was still no direct communication between the
ministry, the administration, NPCIL and the local population.
Once again, it was a brief report in the newspapers that alerted
the villagers.
16
When I visited the collector of Mandla, KK Khare, he agreed to
meet me but refused to talk about the standoff vis a vis the
nuclear plant in Chutka. He said, There is only one thing I want
to say about Chutka and that is: nothing can be said right now.
A little more pressing led him to admit that the project was
definitely stalled because of the lack of permissions. Though he
declined to comment on why, but he admitted there was
opposition from the villages that are likely to be affected.
On the subject of development in the area, Khare said one of the
biggest drawbacks in the tribals of the region was also their
greatest virtue. They are a content people.
I asked him why that was a problem and he said that no progress
was possible until they learnt to dream bigger.
On the subject of other human development indices, he said the
state had been trying very hard. The government spends more
on tribal districts' education. The quality may not be so high but
there is no lack of quantity (of schools). But teachers don't want
to come from outside (outside tribal areas). There are at least
300 posts lying vacant, especially for teachers of English and
Maths. We just don't get any applications. Doctors don't want
to come either. We are willing to give 1.5 times the salary (for
doctors posted in tribal villages) but at least 33 doctors' posts are
lying vacant. What can the government do? Even if we double
salaries, doctors will not come unless the attitude of urban
professionals changes.
17
I also wanted to know on what grounds Chutka was chosen for
the nuclear project and how officials feel about the project after
the protests. I attempted to speak to engineer Sanat Kumar
Agarwal who had visited the village but he directed me to higher
officials at NPCIL who are based in Mumbai. So far, attempts to
call the office have yielded no result.
I also wanted to know why the MoEF refused to give the project
the green signal, and I sent a set of questions to the minister's
office. There has been no response so far. However, some online
research threw up a document that was the 'Summary record of
th
the 8 meeting of expert appraisal committee on environmental
appraisal of nuclear power projects' held in June 2010. This is
what it says:
The proposal is for setting up of a nuclear power plant
(2x700 MWe, PHWRs) in District Mandla, Madhya
Pradesh. A residential township is also proposed to be
constructed as part of this project. It is proposed to acquire
650 ha of land for the Nuclear Power Plant and 75 ha for
the township. It was stated that a part of the exclusion
zone falls in forest area, which will not be cleared but it will
be protected and preserved. The water requirement for the
plant will be met from Bargi Reservoir.
It was observed that the information / documents
submitted by the proponent did not contain information
in sufficient detail, which is required for prescribing Terms
18
of Reference (TORs) for undertaking detailed EIA study
inter-alia; (i) Land use details and land use map, (ii)
Environmental setting of the site, (iii) Location of the site
with respect to HFL of the Reservoir and (iv) Details of the
township component and the requisite Form-1A. The
pre-feasibility report was also found to be lacking the
requisite details. No information was provided in the PFR
relating to township component.
Based on the presentation made and discussions held, the
proponent was advised to revise the project documents
and submit the same afresh for further consideration of
the Committee. It was decided that the proposal be
brought back before the Committee for prescribing TORs
after the revised documents have been submitted by the
proponent.
This is almost identical to what the MoEF decided about every
other nuclear power project currently under consideration. In
effect, this means that the ministry had no specific objections to
the project in Chutka. It simply lacks information at this point.
Permission could yet be granted any time after the requisite
documents are submitted.
Recent developments
When the survey team failed to do its job in Kunda, it turned its
attention to Patha once again. People allege that yet another
attempt was made to carry out a 'secret' survey.
19
The gram sabha met on 8 July, 2010 and it was agreed by the
Patha panchayat that none of the hamlets would allow a survey
connected to the nuclear power project. Two days before that,
on July 6, a survey team had been discovered in Patha. People
responded by snatching away their survey equipment. The
villagers claim that one of the surveyors GN Solanki claimed
that the team had been given a contract to carry out the survey.
He promised, in writing, that they would not do anything
without the knowledge of the villagers, and requested that the
equipment be returned.
According to Navratan Dubey, They promised to sit down at a
meeting and discuss things openly. Fifteen villages (hamlets)
gathered. But no officials showed up. Even the officials who gave
it to us in writing that they would discuss matters in an open,
transparent manner didn't show up. So the villagers have
decided that this is how we should deal with all surveyors in the
future.
On July 26 another meeting was scheduled. A petition has been
sent to the collector demanding that the villages be kept in the
information loop and that nothing be done in a secret manner.
Meanwhile, the forest department is locked into another
conflict in the same area.
After Bargi dam was built, several people had encroached on
forest land. People have been farming since 1985 on the land and
have already sent claims for pattas (at least 63 applications from
20
Bhaliwada alone). The claims have not been approved yet.
But the forest department wants plantations on what it
considers department land. One fine morning in July, forest
officials showed up with a bunch of trees and began to plant
them right in the middle of farmers' fields. The people,
naturally, protested. But many people in the Bhaliwada hamlet
allege that they were threatened with arrest by the officials.
The forest department had come to the village with labourers
from other villages, saplings, and guards.
In Chutka village, there are 68 claims on forest land. But people
are more aware of their rights here as compared to Bhaliwada.
They protested more aggressively. As a result, the tree saplings
were left lying about in the village by the forest team. The trees
are mostly bamboo and amla, incidentally, although the forest
department had once promised the local population to help
them with fruit trees which would have benefitted the people
economically as well as from a health perspective.
At any rate, people said they are willing to be arrested, and are
only too willing to go to the High Court to fight for their right
to go on farming on this land. They demanded to see an official
order, if there was any such order passed.
For now, the forest team has left. But there are some awkward
questions. If Chutka is likely to be relocated soon, why is the
forest department wasting time and energy planting trees here?
21
When the trees are cut in the area, who will benefit and who will
lose money? It seems like one state department is clueless about
what the other is up to.
On December 26, another public meeting was held in Kunda
village. It was attended by about 5000 people from 54 villages
that had been affected by the Bargi Dam, and/or were likely to
be affected by the proposed nuclear power plant. Those who
were present at the meeting say that the people stood up and
swore in the name of the Narmada that they would not support
a 'development' project that might damage the environment
and threaten their own livelihood.
They also demanded that the height of the water in the dam be
reduced to 418 meters after December 15 each year; that
cultivable land in the submergence area be returned to the
former owners; that fish cultivation be given a boost; that the
dam water be used only for drinking water supply or agriculture
and not to private corporations; and that individual and
community rights be restored at once in accordance with the
provisions of the Forest Rights' Act, 2006.
22
Lifestyle
Livelihoods in the villages visited, impact of relocation thus far,
and interface with the state.
Farming families
It might be useful to look at the way different people live in
Patha and Kunda, including five tolas (hamlets) Chutka,
Taatighat, Patha, Kunda and Bhaliwada, and the way
displacement has changed their lives. These villages are all in
Mandla district, where at least 57.23% of the population is from
the scheduled tribes. That is why it is described as a 'tribal
district'.
[According to the 2001 census, 46 scheduled tribes comprise
20.3% (down from 23.27% in the 1991 census even though the
growth of ST population was 2.1% higher than the overall growth
rate in the state) of Madhya Pradesh's population. Bhils and
Gonds are the most populous tribes. The 'scheduled land'
cannot be bought by non-tribals.]
Most people in Patha and Kunda panchayats are Gonds though
there is a smattering of other tribes like Baiga, especially in
Bhaliwada. Some are from the scheduled castes and the rest from
backward or general castes.
1.
In Taatighat and Chutka, a lot of fertile land owned by farmers
23
has been 'drowned' but most people were given land on lease, in
2000.
According to Dadulal Kharape of Chutka, of the 200-odd
families in his village only 25 percent own plots of land, and
even their holdings range between one and twenty acres. Many
families do have access to 'drowned' land. They have ten-year
leases to till plots of land that are available when the waters of
Bargi dam recede. They also pay Rs 100 per acre for the lease.
This kind of agriculture is called 'doob ki kheti' (farming on
drowned land). It can be done only once a year, after the
monsoon is over, and it yields at least major crop usually wheat
and often one additional 'small' crop of chana, masoor or batra.
Agriculture is the community's chief sustenance. Those who
have less land sometimes work on the fields of those who have
more.
They are almost self-sufficient when it comes to food and there
have been no starvation deaths, although the older people will
still talk about 1970 (there is some dispute between different
people about the year), when there was a famine. People had to
sell everything, including their kitchen vessels and clothes. The
government, they recall, had to impose restrictions on the
movement of food-grains between districts to guard against
black-marketing. Many people starved to death at that time,
despite government help. They also say that a few local people
traders or big landowners had made their fortunes at that time
24
for they could take anything they wanted from the poor in
exchange for a little food. However, such a tragedy has not
visited the community again.
All family members pitch in and bring their own labour to
different venues. They work on projects like digging wells,
making roads, bunds around fields, and any other work that
comes in through the NREGS. There are a few men who are
trained to do a little bit of electric work and they end up laying
cables in cities. Most men go to Jabalpur, Narsinghpur, Nagpur,
and even as far as Mumbai and Aurangabad since they cannot
find work in district headquarters that would be closer home,
like Mandla or Dindori.
Mira bai herself doesn't migrate to look for work but her sons
go. Her own routine is packed with work. She gets up after 4 am
(or it could be 6 am; she doesn't look at the clock to decide
when to get up). She sweeps the house, feeds her animals, cleans
up their sheds too, then she goes to do latrine, fixes breakfast for
the family. It is mid-morning by now. After that, she goes to the
fields for she has two or three acres or land. Then she eats and
rests. If there is NREGS work available she might go to the
project site. There is more work to do but some of it is seasonal,
like collecting minor forest produce, or fuelwood.
Landowners can cultivate rice, masoor, chana, batra, rahar, etc,
in addition to wheat. There are onions, gourds, potatoes and
half a dozen other vegetables to look forward to. A family can
25
earn Rs 10,000-15,000 per year from two acres of land. If a
family has a pair of bullocks and the seeds, they just need time to
till the land and the rain. They don't use chemical fertilizers or
pesticides so there aren't any additional costs. If they don't have
bulls they have to borrow or rent some, or get a tractor, which
costs about Rs 300-350 per hour.
Mirabai is also part of an SHG with ten members. She says there
are other SHGs in the village. My group buys groceries and
makes the mid-day meals for all six schools in Patha panchayat
and the three anganwadis as well. The education department
gives us a cheque for this. There is sometimes a six-seven month
delay in payments. But the money does come and we are happy
to do this.
th
There is local education up until the 8 standard. The villagers are
not very impressed by the teaching standards and complain that
there is a lack of teachers. For instance, between Kunda and
Patha panchayats, there is only one middle school and only one
teacher in that school.
The police don't interfere in the day-to-day affairs of the
villages here. In recent memory, the police came to Chutka
once, to arrest a murder accused after someone got killed
during a drunken brawl. Villagers say that the police team picked
up a few men, took them to the station in Narayanganj and beat
them all uniformly, although none of them was a guilty man.
The men were released later and though they complain, they do
26
not display great antipathy towards the police force.
There is very little crime a few drunken fights and the occasional
petty theft, which are matters settled by the village elders. Mira
bai says that You can leave a thali and lota outside your door
and nobody will touch it. If something disappears, the
community holds a baithak (meeting). The panchayat all male
and female elders are a part of it discusses the issue, witnesses are
called forward. If a culprit is found, there is a fine. If he (or she) is
a repeat offender, then we threaten to hand him over to the
police. If he refuses to pay the fine, we boycott him or her
nobody will work with that person or mind his cattle or watch
his children.
This kind of pressure works for the community better than
jailing or corporal punishment because the community is so
closely knit and interdependent. Houses, for instance, are built
completely indigenously in all these villages.
There are very few people who do something else. Manna bai's
husband makes a living by taking minor forest produce or grain
from farmers in Chutka and sells it to traders in Patha or
Narayanganj. We go to take money from traders in times of
need. But we have to live on Rs 100 a week, she says but adds
that she also goes to Jabalpur for 'eent-gara' (construction site
work). She can get Rs 50-70 a day and says that women get Rs
70 for the same work if men get Rs 80.
For credit, there is little option but the local trader or
27
moneylender. There is a 'tola baithak' now a sort of community
kitty where each woman in the hamlet brings Rs 10 and puts it
into a 'peti' or a small steel box. The state has also initiated a 'MP
Grameen Ajeevika Pariyojana' which has a 'rahat kosh' (relief
fund) so that each mohalla in the village can dip into the fund
for emergencies. All people in the tola (hamlet) are part of the
scheme. Those who deposit money can also take some out for
an emergency. No interest is charged. But if someone has not
been making deposits and still wants to borrow, he will be
charged interest.
The local population's interface with the state has not been
entirely negative. There is an anganwadi, a nurse, an ASHA
worker, a much better network of pukka roads. But more needs
to be done.
There is no Public Health Center here and going to the nearest
PHC takes two hours. The state has initiated a scheme whereby
mothers are given Rs 1400 if they choose to get the baby
delivered in a state hospital or a PHC. But of that, the woman
uses as much as Rs 700 to pay for the transport. They have to call
a jeep and even then it takes a few hours. The other Rs 700 is
often spent in returning with the newborn, making additional
trips while trying to get the cheque cleared, food and so on.
There used to be a Janani Suraksha express scheme, whereby an
ambulance would come when you called it. The women say it
was a good scheme but the jeep doesn't come any more. There
28
is an ASHA worker and an ANM who comes to the anganwadi
to administer vaccines.
The anganwadi worker estimates that there are 55 kids in the
anganwadi of which ten must be malnourished. They are taken
to the recently opened Nutritional Rehabilitation Center in
Narayanganj but it is hard to make the mothers and children
stay for 14 days. The women have far too many things to take
care of at home. There is no anganwadi building and the worker
functions out of her own house thus far. She gets the materials
needed to feed the children and gets her salary, however
delayed.
The ASHA worker Kanti Barman has been working since 2007,
but gets no salary. Her job is incentive driven but it means a lot
of work but not enough benefit. She must advise people about
the right age of marriage, malnourishment, contraception, keep
track of pregnant women and get them vaccinated by the ANM,
persuade women to go to hospitals for delivery and go with
them too. For example, she gets Rs 150 for each delivery she
brings to a hospital while travel costs far too much in this region.
If the money isn't ready at the hospital, they ask her to come
back, costing her another trip.
There is a water supply problem. They have to go down to the
Narmada to get water even for drinking. There are 3 taps (hand-
pumps) but there isn't always enough water and too much of a
queue. Kanti Barman says that she sometimes wakes up at 3.30
29
in the night (3.30 am) to fetch water and bathe at the river.
I asked them about their future plans, their aspirations, and they
shrugged. Mira bai says, If it rains, we will sow that's our only
plan.
There are worries about the lease, though. The lease for
'drowned lands' expires in 2010 and people are worried that it
might not be renewed.
Deepchand Yadav says, There are powerful forces in the village.
Big landlords had once taken over the land even the lands
drowned by the dam but after we protested the government
took it back and gave it to smaller farmers 2.5 to 7.5 acres per
family. Now if the lease isn't renewed, big landlords will move in
again. They have already snatched back some pieces so that
some small farmers have a 'patta' but don't have actual
possession of the land.
The farmers seemed grim as they said, If the lease isn't renewed,
there will be bloodshed.
2.
Kunda village, in contrast, has stayed put for the most part.
Ramlal Narte says there are 277 families (he is not sure of the
exact figure though), most of whom are Gonds. There are a very
few families that don't have some kind of access to land. Some
people migrate for work but most find work as labourers within
the village. Most people have reasonable access to hand-pumps
30
or wells. Water is not a big enough problem for them to
complain about it.
Narte has twenty acres himself and he doesn't always bother to
till all of it. Some of it is rocky land. He manages to make about
Rs 1 lakh a year from the fields. He grows rice, wheat, maize,
sesame, urad, rahar and so there is more than enough food to go
around. There is not enough irrigation, he says. We still didn't
have irrigation facilities before the dam. Now we have pumps to
take water from the ground. But ever since the dam was built, we
don't get as much rain.
Kunda shares the middle school with Patha and the lack of
teachers is a problem. Narte says he has written many
applications but to no avail. There is also no college nearby,
except in Mandla or Jabalpur. They want this to change but they
don't want to move far away, not even to give their children a
better education.
The women of Kunda say that they can walk as much as 30 km
on foot, alone. There is nothing to fear. Even when they cannot
find Commanders (shared jeeps called 'Commanders' are
almost the only form of public transport around here) they
manage to get around.
They add that some of the Gonds had bought land on the
outskirts of towns like Jabalpur or Narayanganj but they
returned to Kunda after a while. They didn't like it there, living
close to the towns.
31
Women work mainly in the fields. They dig, move stones, weed,
sow and harvest. They also build their own houses. They make
their own bricks using a wooden mould, mud, hay and a wood-
fired furnace. Apart from that, they cut and grind and chop.
Nearly all the women are related to each other, and very few are
married in distant villages. Wedding costs are directly
proportional to how far apart the two families are, and so people
tend to marry in neighbouring villages. However, there is no
marriage between close kin. A system has been devised to keep a
check on this. Clans compare the number of dev-devi
worshipped while fixing weddings. One cannot marry if the
number is equal. A seven-dev family will not marry another
seven-dev Gond but will marry someone of the six-dev or five-
dev or two-dev clan.
Parents organize a match but young couples decide or veto as
they wish. There used to be a bride price custom the groom's
family had to at least give the bride enough money to cover
expenses for the wedding feast. Now there is rampant dowry.
People give away fans, TV sets, bikes, and cash to the groom. At
a death, all visitors bring a bit of food and supari (betel) to help
the bereaved family.
When someone is making a new house, the family works
independently, making everything with their own hands brick
by brick and wall by wall. Then the whole community steps
forward and helps to lay the roof tiles and wood and leaves. In a
32
single day, the roof is ready and the house becomes livable. For
these sort of community ties, there can be no compensation
and the village is more than aware of what will be lost if the
community is scattered.
One of the women says, Our parents ran when they were told
to run. She refers to the Bargi dam displacement, adding,
Those who had low-lying land lost it and have still not found
their feet. Those who had to leave, we don't meet them even in
our dreams. Some people's kids died too young because of the
loss of land, or because they couldn't build their houses
properly. We have seen all that happen.
There are people in Kunda who were relocated once. Chotelal
Punde was one of them. I bought land with the compensation
money but could buy one acre after losing three acres. The land
rates shot up very quickly.
Ramlal (not Ramlal Narte; this is another Ramlal, also a Gond)
had lost his land and his house to Bargi dam. I didn't buy more
land but I had four acres left. I had to spend the compensation
money on rebuilding my house. We built new houses a little
higher up but after the dam was filled, the water level came up
higher than expected. So I had to break it down and build yet
another house. I was luckier than some others who had to build
their houses three or four times. It is a lot of trouble. Now my
house isn't going anywhere else. We have suffered enough.
But after a quiet pause, Ramlal says, But if the government
33
decides on something, it is impossible to stop it.
Shrilal Margud adds, The government just does what it wants.
We are fighting but we have seen the Bargi era, lived through it,
and we have little faith in the government. This is our attitude.
A few other elderly men gathered around. One of them pointed
out that there will always be 10-15% of people who might agree
to move. There will always be someone who wants to sell his
father's property and run away or drink it all up. But not the rest
of us.
Amongst other complaints in Kunda, there is this problem of
extra water for the animals to drink. Besides, some of the people
want more water for irrigation. The sad part is that some people
are demanding another dam!
We want a dam higher up, so we can irrigate our land. There are
rivers in the reserved forest area. If that water is accessible to us,
we can take our animals there to drink. Otherwise, it is difficult.
Some cattle die when we take them to the Narmada now.
One major problem in Kunda is that there is no doctor within a
30 km radius. Not even a doctor with a private practice. There is
an ANM quarter but the ANM is usually missing from duty.
It also needs an additional 1-1.5 km of pukka roads. In the rainy
season, moving about on kuchcha roads is a problem. The
village also needs a building for a ration shop (PDS outlet). It
currently manages on rented space.
34
3.
Patha is the third village to consider. The sarpanch Munnibai is
not educated. Her husband is a former sarpanch and he more or
less continues to speak and organize things on her behalf. But
she does say that Patha suffered a little more than Chutka
because it is at a lower attitude. More people depend on leases
and 'doob ki kheti' but she doesn't know that the lease is due to
expire soon.
We are pattedaars, she says. We don't own the land but we
can keep the patta as long as we are living here.
Her husband estimates that landlessness is high. At least 50% of
the families don't even have a patta.
First time, we got cheated on compensation (for Bargi dam),
he says. The saahabs (officials) came and asked what we wanted.
The elders said: 'give compensation to adult sons' and that was
that. People were ill-informed. They hadn't seen anything. If a
jeep came to the village, people would gather to gawk at it all
day, just like they would if a helicopter were to land today.
In Patha, there is barely any electric supply. According to
Munnibai, the electricity shows up between 6 pm and 11 pm
when it comes, which is on an average of twice a week. During
the four months of rain, there is no electricity. There are four
hand-pumps and only two are working. In summer, even those
two don't work well.
35
The anganwadi exists and is functioning out of the old school
building. There is a nurse and she lives in the same village. There
is 'rozgar' (NREGS) work for some. Others migrate to towns.
4.
Bhaliwada is a hamlet in Kunda panchayat. It is home to
approximately 15-20 Baiga families, along with other castes and
Gonds.
Amar Singh Uike, a young man, describes himself as being of the
post-displacement generation. Government officials come
and tell us what they will give, how big the houses will be. But in
towns, each house as big as ours will cost several lakhs. I have
seen those houses. If we didn't have to leave our lands the last
time, by now we too would have had enough money to build
grand two-storey houses, the type you people live in.
It is probable that he has helped to build those houses too.
When I assure him that I do not live in a house as large as his, and
that most people in cities do not own two-storey bunglows, he
grows quieter. I ask him if he wants to relocate from Bhaliwada.
He refuses to speak for himself, but he says, People were
thinking they might get more land in exchange for current
holdings and good compensation. But they are saying they will
give only Rs 40,000 per household. There is water and light
(electricity) to think of also. People are scared Right now,
even when the dam water recedes, some water remains on the
fields. Only 15 people out of 100 can sow their crops properly in
36
this hamlet.
Another older man says, We believe the Narmada is our
mother. As long as we can look up to her, she will give us food to
eat.
Another group of women has gathered by now. Like its
population, this group also is a mixed one. Mathura bai is a
Yadav or Ahir; Lakshmi bai is from the 'Pradhan' sub-caste;
Sukko bai, Kota bai and Gomti bai are Baiga; Indravati is a
Bairagi. They too begin to speak all at once when asked about
their lives.
The men often go out (out of the village) to work. We cannot
find any labour work here. At harvest time we get only Rs 30-
50 or just 2 kilos of grain for working all day on other people's
fields.
At any rate, few women can find work for more than 10 days a
month. The only work that pays them decently is 'rozgar'
(NREGS) but it is hard to get onto those projects. The women
say 'rozgar' work is only available in one short spurt, once in
four or six months.
Poverty levels are higher here. Some of it has to do with the fact
that the Baigas no longer have access to rich and relatively
isolated forest land before the construction of Bargi dam. Sukko
bai, in fact, introduced herself as: I am a Baiga. You must have
heard of us. We are the people who dig up kands (wild tubers)
37
from the mud. land, he grows maize, mustard, sesame, rahar; there are two
major crops definitely, sometimes three. Apart from rice and
The other women laugh when I ask for an explanation. We all
wheat, there is a local rice-like grain called Kodu which grows
eat kands sometimes; all the different castes here, they say.
well and easily in this climate and forms a significant portion of
When there is nothing else to eat, we dig up the kands.
kands.
the local population's food security.
The difference is that Baigas traditionally depend heavily on a
But he also remembers how he had had to bring all his things to
variety of kands for nourishment and with the disappearance of
higher ground, laden on a bullock cart, when his house was
forests, the tubers are also getting rare. The women say, things
drowned. We have carried our wood and tiles with us but we
were a little better when they had not given up their land. Before
left behind the mud and brick. All of that had to be made again.
1990, almost all families had small tracts of land. Now they
This is what remains now and we don't want to leave it.
depend almost exclusively on leased land, which can only be
used for one sowing season. He says that if the state decides to approve the project without
taking the gram sabha's permission, they will go to court. It
All of them get ration from PDS shops. Most have BPL cards and
might take 20 years, 25 years, 100 years. We don't care. We are
get 35 kg of wheat. This, the women say, lasts only 10-15 days.
agreed on this matter and there are many groups and
When I frown at this statement, they get defensive. They say,
movements to support us. Our small, broken-down huts are
We are village people, we need to eat more than you do.
fine for us.
Besides, most of us have 7-8 members in each family. How long
do you think 35 kg lasts? We have to buy grain additionally but With a twinkle in his eye, he adds, We don't want 'facilities'
the ration (PDS) shop doesn't always have enough ration. offered by the state. We don't want to sleep on Dunlop gadda
(mattresses). We are poor people. We will die quicker if we live
Some of the Bhaliwada boys who migrate to towns have
an easy life.
returned with mobile phones, but fewer people in this hamlet
own a phone. Phones are useful for them, particularly if they On a more serious note, he says something that actually
have to get to hospitals or contact someone urgently. summarizes the crux of the problem of project-related
displacement. Why do the collector and SDM call us, so we can
5.
come and listen to the supposed benefits of your scheme? If you
At Taatighat hamlet, I met Shiv Prasad Lodhi. He says that on his want to talk to us, you come to us. You should come house to

38 39
house to convince us. Why should we come to you?
Fish! Or a look at how careers get drowned
It is an odd system. At first, nobody owns the water. At least,
that is the assumption. Rivers belong to everyone and to no
one. But the moment the state dips a toenail into the river, it
becomes a 'water body' and the moment it places its powerful
hands in the flow (or if a private party does so, via the state), this
water body effectively stops flowing and turns into a controlled,
administered area. For instance, the rain that falls and flows
freely in little streams across a village belongs to all. But the
moment you dig a pond, it belongs to the state. You cannot go
fishing in this pond, not unless the fisheries department awards
you a contract.
The Narmada once belonged to all the fishermen who chose to
row out and toss their nets on the water. But the moment Bargi
dam came up, it turned into a 'water body' owned by the state
and fishing rights could be given out as contracts.
Shamlal Barman belongs to a fishing community in Chutka.
Theirs is not a scheduled tribe, but his community has suffered a
body blow in the shape of Bargi dam.
He says, We just have our fishing and nothing else. Before the
dam, we also had tiny farms of chillies and vegetables, right near
the banks of the Narmada. Now that land is gone, of course, and
there was no compensation for it. Later, we formed a
40
cooperative and fought to take the license from the
government. But a few years ago, the lease was taken from us
and given to a contractor from Jabalpur. Now we get weekly
wages of Rs 17-18 per kilo of fish, but we are not allowed to sell
anything we catch although we know that fish sells in town
markets for as much as Rs 100 per kilo. After a lot of haggling,
they say our wage will go up to Rs 19 per kilo.
Now the nuclear plant coming up is an additional threat. A
visiting engineer had mentioned to the worried fishermen that a
lot of water would be needed for the nuclear reactors and that at
least a portion of the dam would be blocked and barred to
fishermen. There are water pollution concerns that nobody has
yet addressed or explained.
Patha, situated closer to the erstwhile banks of the river, has
many more worried fishermen., such as Pawan Kumar Barman.
The experience of being ousted out of the water without
actually having left the water has been a tragic one.
Our ancestors were fishermen, he says. We still fish. The
difference is that now we have no certain income. Sometimes we
catch nothing for a whole week. My wife goes along on fishing
trips. She rows the boat while I cast nets. At the most what we
make is Rs 500-600 over fifteen days of work. This translates
into a monthly income of just Rs 1000.
Pawan has three sons. The older boys, 18 and 20 years old, have
had to migrate to Jabalpur for eent-gara. Labourers get Rs 100 a
41
day in Jabalpur but they cannot bring back more than Rs 1000
after a month of work. They have to rent space in cities too and
spend on food.
Now Pawan has a 'net' loan of Rs 1500, taken from the
contractor to buy a new fishing net. To make up for the loan,
the contractor deducts Rs 25 for every Rs 100 worth of catch.
The family has also had to borrow Rs 4,000, just for general
living expenses.
Santosh, another fisherman, has begun to supplement his
income with manual labour whenever he can find work. He also
works in a paan shop during the day. I ask him how he manages
to do two or three jobs and he says his wife helps.
They leave the nets in the water all night long and return to get
the fish in the morning. Sometimes, people keep watch over
each other's nets. Sometimes they also steal fish or the net itself.
I ask what they do if the net gets stolen. Santosh laughs. You
can always go to the sahukar and get a loan. I still have to pay
back Rs 1000.
Some people are still reeling from the mess left behind after the
battle for Bargi. The fisherfolk formed cooperatives and
demanded fishing rights, and for a while, they won (more details
in the next section).
Around that time, the Integrated Rural Development Program
offered assistance worth Rs 8,000. Unfortunately, this was not
42
offered as cash but as loans against boats and fishing nets of
about 10-12 kilos weight. Until then, the men used to make
their own boats. The bank tied up with suppliers; costs were
slightly inflated. The vast majority lived below the poverty line
and some of the fishermen were not able to pay back the loan.
Santosh says, Now we are counted as 'defaulters'. We cannot
get more loans from banks like the Zilla Sahakari (district co-
operative) bank in Narayanganj or the State Bank.
Sitaram Barman, of the Azaad Machhuara Sahakari Samiti,
points out that the state has no understanding of what it offers
to communities, or whether the offer will be useful to the poor.
For instance, the state has announced a housing plan for
fishermen. But there's a catch.
We heard that they give house-building assistance of upto Rs
40,000. So we went to meet the nigam prabandhak in
Nayaranganj. We were told the plan is for 'abadi plots'. We
cannot use the plan because they have a minimum requirement
of land. They want land large enough for all the fishermen's
houses to be built in a cluster on one single plot. We don't have
land. Because of Chutka's nuclear project, nobody will buy or
sell anything. Being OBC and not tribals, we anyway couldn't
buy tribal land. We have always depended on tribals to let us to
build houses on lands bordering the doob area. We fishermen
have to put out boats on the water all night. Sometimes we
spend the night in the boat. We have to live at the riverside. We
43
battle wind and water and storms. Fishermen cannot live far
away in Narayanganj. What is the use of coming up with such
schemes? he complains.
I ask Pawan Kumar Barman about his future plans and he
answers me with silence. Finally he says, I don't think of the
future at all. What am I going to do? I suppose I will cast my net.
I ask him how he feels about sending his kids far away to work.
Again, he answers with silence.
44
Past and present
Rajkumar Sinha, one of the key members of the association of
people displaced by Bargi Dam, thinks that there is a growing
impatience amongst urbanites with people's movements. There
is this anti-development tag to contend with. Support is difficult
to garner when people like Sinha find themselves trapped into
the image of an 'endless opposition' force.
Jabalpur intellectuals think we are always opposing
development projects, he said. But the thing is, we had not
opposed Bargi dam. Villagers went to work on the dam site, in
fact. But right from the start, there were problems. Bargi was not
surveyed properly. Nobody knew what would actually be
submerged. Some boys from displaced families began fighting
for jobs, right until 1992. There was no infrastructure for the
families yet. There was an epidemic of falciparum malaria and
there was no road.
Demands for rehabilitation and other infrastructure came
afterwards. When Bargi was built, there was no R&R policy.
Those who could afford it, bought the land further up the
hillside. Those who couldn't, settled on the periphery of the
dam, or settled in forests. Cases were filed against them,
especially in Bhaliwara, and like recent developments have
shown, the fight is far from done.
One important lesson that people displaced by Bargi dam (or
any other project) have learnt the hard way is that nothing will
45
be given to them without a fight.
Sinha remembers a time when, after years of struggles and
protests, the former chief minister of Madhya Pradesh Digvijay
Singh visited Mandla. We met, says Sinha. He promised to
rehabilitate forest-dwelling people in villages. But these were
not revenue villages. There are panchayats and elections but
even now these villages do not exist in revenue records, which
means, they get no NREGA work. People live there since 1990,
pattas were given in 2002-03 but still, the records department
hasn't updates its books.
M.P. has 11 dams. The state federation monitors and auctions
fishing rights. Contractors have stepped into most catchment
areas. For fishing rights in Bargi's catchment area too, people
had to fight. They conducted a boat rally, police cases were filed
against them. They fought to have the cases withdrawn. Even so,
the hard-won right was eventually lost.
Sinha was integral to the battle for fish. Across caste lines
Adivasi, Patel, Barman we joined hands, formed a federation of
all the smaller fishing co-operatives and Digvijay Singh kept his
promise. We were given the right to fish in Bargi. But now a
private contractor has got the rights. We used to do a good job.
Contractors were paying only Rs 6 per kilo of fish back then. We
gave Rs 10, and we also gave Rs 6 as royalty to the state. There
were problems transporting fish. We used the railways back
then, and had to contend with the ice-vendors' lobby. We had
46
to bribe people to just get fish loaded onto the train. Once, a
sofa set was demanded as a bribe to audit the federation's
accounts. Another time, we made Rs 10 lakh as profit. The
official who was looking at the books just automatically
assumed there was a 'ghapla' of Rs 2-5 lakh at the very least, if we
were putting down Rs 10 lakh on record. This is their attitude,
and it is problematic. They cannot imagine a situation where
nobody is corrupt.
This federation of fishing cooperatives is now gearing up to fight
legally they are filing a case against the state federation for not
having held elections. It also wants the court to decide on
whether the contractor should be allowed to continue working
in the region although the cooperatives clearly were successful.
The state officials used to say that 1032 tons of fish ought to be
produced in Bargi dam. We challenged that claim. Our
production was 400-450 tons or less. But now the contractor's
catch is barely 200 tons. They don't seed the water so there is no
fish left in it. We want the court to compare and decide who
should have rights.
The challenge now is to ensure that history doesn't repeat itself.
Our opposition is not just to prevent displacement, but also to
ensure that in the event that displacement is inevitable, people
get a better package. It is a fair strategy. Sinha said.
He pointed out that there are more power plants planned in the
area. Jhabua power plant will be thermal. It takes water from
47
Bargi. 'Today homes' is another project proposed near the
Narmada. There is talk of a Reliance power plant too and NTPC
is setting up thermal plants in Narsinghpur. Madhya Pradesh
plans 39 more power plants. Almost all will be located near water
bodies. Where will all the water come from? How will it affect
farmers who live there? What will happen to the fisherfolk?
There are no answers to these questions yet. In fact, there are no
answers to anything. But the district administration seems to be
wary of activists from other districts and states.
Navratan Dubey broods, The district administration has been
saying, 'Keep away from the outsiders. Don't take advice from
them'. I say, why not? We would like to point out that the state
officials are also 'outsiders' for us. Why should we trust them?
New project, old mistakes
Sadly, the mistakes made by the establishment while displacing
people for Bargi dam are being repeated. If it was not for the fact
that villagers are putting up a spirited fight, the officials would
have had the land mapped and chalked out for taking over.
Perhaps they will, eventually.
Currently, the ministry of environment and forests stands in the
way. If the ministry allows the project to go ahead, people are
certain that the district officials will find some way to break the
local opposition.
In the meantime, the officials are busy making an unfair
48
assessment of people's properties. In the 1970s and '80s, in
exchange for land that was not A-grade quality, people were
paid about Rs 900 per acre. This wouldn't have lasted them even
a couple of months, given the massive nature of the relocation.
If there was a sickness in the family, God help them!
But god didn't always help. Several people did fall sick and died.
In the 1990s, after Bargi was complete, there were outbreaks of
cholera and falciparum malaria. There wasn't a hospital around
for miles. Navratan Dubey recalls that activists like Rajkumar
Sinha brought doctors and helped him by ferrying his son across
the dam in a boat.
Another major mistake there is no word about where people
will be resettled, even if a nuclear project in Chutka is built. No
definite offer of alternative land, no guarantees on quality of
land or availability of water either to drink or to irrigate. No talk
of common grazing grounds. No assurances of a hospital.
As the sarpanch of Patha pointed out, We don't even know rate
of land in this hamlet. Nobody has sold anything in recent
years.
People also agree that landless villagers should be given land as a
part of the compensation package. Yet, there is no assurance of
that happening.
All that the officials have done so far is to throw up a random
figure a compensation of Rs 40,000 per acre. This is an
49
underestimation because the area is a 'scheduled land'. Non-
tribals are not allowed to buy land here, so there is no way of
knowing what they might have paid for it. Tribals rarely sell land
or relocate of their own volition in any case. The figure of Rs
40,000 is not a real 'market' rate because there is no real
market. It is an artificial price.
If tribals were to attempt to buy land outside of these scheduled
areas, they wouldn't be able to even build a house with the
compensation money offered, much less a farm.
Shamlal Barman speaks for the fishermen when he says, They
say they will give affected families pucca houses, but we doubt if
they will build anything more than 30 by 30 (square feet).
Besides, we cannot eat the houses. And there are non-adivasis to
consider. We form about 5-10% of population. What about
us?
This is a troubling thought. Even if the state does make
provision for alternate property in another scheduled area, what
would happen to the minorities: non-tribal backward or general
castes who have lived in this tribal area for generations? Where
would they buy land even if they were given their measly Rs
40,000?
Currently, there are a few people at least who are still open to the
idea of relocation. But they want at least five acres per family.
Besides, they point out that this is a 'center' project, not an MP
state initiative, so they want central government-style
50
compensation.
Uike points out, The centre gives Rs 10 lakh to the 18-year-old
boys while moving them out for the tiger project. What about
us?
R&R Policy: a brief comment
Madhya Pradesh does have a model relocation/rehabilitation
policy (2002), which offers guidelines for any proposed project
and clearly mentions that alternate land must be provided.
There is an emphasis on special protection of tribals and landless
families.
According to Madhya Pradesh's 'Model Rehabilitation Policy,
2002', the following points should have guided the Mandla
administration, and NPCIL, before they communicate with
local villagers.
Point 1.5 says that those who don't have land title deeds should
get land if available.
Point 1.6 says that while relocating people, there should be no
distinction between those who are settled on revenue land and
those on forest land.
Point 1.9 says that agricultural and non-agricultural labourers
should have a loan scheme so that they can become self-
employed.
Point 1.14 says that after the irrigation scheme (read: project) is
51
ready the task of producing and catching and selling fish will be
given to a cooperative society comprised of displaced people.
[In Bargi's case, this right was given and then taken away again
because a larger 'federation' decided to rule in favour of a private
contractor. Safeguards against this sort of decision need to be
put into place.]
On compensation, the policy says, under 3(a), land
compensation price will be given at market rates and 3 (b) says
that there will compensation for trees based on value of wood or
value of fruit over one year.
[This is not truly comprehensive. It talks about fruit or teak-
giving trees, which can perhaps be ascribed a definite market
value. But it doesn't take into account scrub, which provides
fuelwood and fencing, or tendu plants, which grow wild and
plentiful. People estimate that each plant can give up to Rs 100
worth of tendu leaves. Herbs or the medicinal value of plants are
also not factored into the compensation, although they not
only bring income but work as a sort of preventive healthcare
expense for tribal communities who know how to use them.]
Point 3 (c) says compensation for houses must be based on
Indira Awas Yojana rates for housing. This placed the
construction cost of a house in the plains at Rs 20,000.
[This estimate probably needs to be challenged. Building a
decent house for Rs 20,000, even in the plains, is virtually
52
impossible, particularly if locals' access to wood from forests is
curtailed.]
Point 7.1 (a) says that landless agricultural workers will get a
rehabilitation allowance of Rs 11,000.
[It should be kept in mind that in Chutka, even landless tribals
can make upto Rs 20,000 from collecting and trading in forest
produce. An allowance of Rs 11,000 is not a winning deal from
their perspective.]
Point 14.1 clearly says that the gram sabha has to be consulted
before initiating any project in any area.
Point 14.3 says that all economic installations, especially in the
light of privatization and an open market system, have to be
discussed in an open forum. It also expresses concern about the
result of a standoff or talks between two parties with the
government being of neither party, whenever there is great
difference in the class or economic strength of the two.
The policy clearly says that under no circumstances must state
power the government authorities be used to take land away
from people by pressurizing them or direct intervention or
indirect pressure be exercised to make them agree to the
proposal. There shall be particular care on this front in adivasi
areas.
Point 16.5 says that while looking for a new place for the
displaced families to settle, the affected families as well as host
53
family must be consulted beforehand. It also says that the
process should be a slow one and a series of introductory
meetings between the two groups must be organized.
[Thus far, even while the media has announced the project in a
celebratory baritone, none of the officials have said anything
about where the oustees will be settled, shown them alternate
land and certainly not organized meetings with host villagers.
There is total silence on how landless labourers of fishermen will
be compensated.]
54
Bichhiya: A guide to brewing discontent
While Bargi dam led to one cycle of dissatisfaction and mistrust,
tribals in the region have lived through another set of miseries. I
thought it would be a relevant exercise, looking at how other
displaced tribals are faring in Mandla.
Step into Mohgaon village (panchayat Umarwada, block
Bichhiya), and there is a flood of green rolling down to meet the
eyes. The first rains have just rolled across this part of the
country. You see thin cows snap greedily at the neon floor of
the forest.
This is the 'buffer' zone of Kanha, a concentric ring of forest
outside the 'core' area which forms the Kanha national park and
tiger reserve. Walk into the Baiga hamlet and you won't see too
many ready smiles. There is a definite angry scowl on the face of
Baniharo, a Baiga woman.
Arrests and economic impact of the loss of the forest
1.
Baniharo had recently been arrested. She had gone into the
thicker forests behind the Mohgaon settlement to get fuelwood
and some bamboo for mending the fence of her house. She
emphasizes that she was within the buffer area. Kanha is at least
5-15 km away from here. We were near this village. There were
four of us. Baniharo, Sukhwati, Revathy, Samalia. My younger
55
son Ganesh, who is barely 14, was with me. The jeep came. offered to support her. The next day the jeep came to take me
from my house. The jeep took me to Kanha inside the core area,
The very phrase 'the jeep came' sort of sums up a whole cycle of
they beat me a little, and the guards forced me to pose my
events. The forest guards, sometimes accompanied by fire-
hands grabbing the trees for photographs, to make it look like I
watchers or deputy rangers, drive up in a jeep. The tribals, usually
was cutting the tree down. There were women guards too but
women, are carrying some wood or other minor forest produce.
they beat me very badly. Revathy was also caught. They wrote
They are asked to stop. Sometimes, they try to run away and are
false things against us.
chased. Then they are arrested. Often, they allege, they are
beaten up. They claim they were in the buffer zone. The forest Asked why she was beaten, she explains that the forest guards
guards claim they were in the core area. The matter goes to accused her of setting fires within the forest. But they were the
court. ones who sent my son to fetch matches to set fire to the grass.
Earlier, we would take away the grass we cut and use it at home.
Most local crime rests on this an invisible wall separating the
Now we aren't allowed to. I told them that they are responsible
tribes' right to live from the state's need to protect wildlife and
for setting the fires, not us. Then they began to abuse and beat
forests.
me.
Whether or not they are guilty of violating the law of the land,
Baniharo is a widow and is already struggling financially. This
they are certainly not eligible for a thrashing. With testimonies
arrest has cost her more than she can afford. They made us
from people arrested for entering the core area of Kanha and
Revathy and me pay Rs 1500 each (my son-in-law Lalman was
taking away something a length of bamboo or an edible tuber
sent to get my silver necklace mortgaged) and we had to pay
or a bundle of grass there are allegations of forest department
some more money to the lawyer. In fact, we had to borrow Rs
violence.
200 each from the lawyer just to reach home.
Baniharo claims that the guards were accompanied by a local
The trouble with her community is that they have a vague sense
who has been appointed a fire-watcher.
of time. They cannot accurately say what date they were arrested
The watcher Jham Singh caught Sukhwati. They rest of us ran to which becomes a liability when they are facing a court, or in turn
hide in our houses. Sukhwati was released on a bail of Rs 1000 accusing forest officials of violence. Baniharo can only place the
the next day, after Bilsa bai who has a patta (land claim deed) violent episode at after the Mahua, which could loosely mean

56 57
the month of March. In our current judicial set-up this sort of
vagueness isn't likely to win any legal case for compensation.
Human rights abuses by the police and other armed forces are
common in our country. Proving anything is hard and
compensation is almost unheard of. But for poor tribals who are
subjected to a beating, this sort of treatment is a great economic
hardship, even if they were to ignore the physical and emotional
damage.
I was ill for a long time afterwards. After they beat me, I could
not work. They gave me nothing to eat after the arrest. Later, I
had to spend money on painkillers.
She has been to Mandla five or six times since. All she knows or
understands of the proceedings is that she has to go to court to
put my thumb. Every 15-16 days.
Each trip costs her. The first visit, she had to put in Rs 50, then Rs
20, then Rs 10 and finally Rs 5. Each time, she goes off on a
Tuesday, walking to Chiklaha Nallah. It takes one and a half
hours. Then she pays Rs 25 for a bus ticket to Mandla, one way. It
takes two hours in the bus. She must go to court, wait for her
'peshi' then take the bus back. Another Rs 25, another long
walk. She says, I return only at 6 pm or even 7 pm. One day it
was 9 pm and so dark that I had to stop to buy a torch.
This, I have experienced myself. The darkness is total and walking
about carries a very real risk of spraining an ankle or falling prey
58
to snakes or some other fatal insect. The buying of a torch might
seem like a very small expense to worry about but in the current
situation, it means a lot. The Baiga tribe has not been food
insecure in the past but they have hardly ever had much cash
handy.
Baniharo points out that she had to sell her bajubandh (arm
ornament) recently to pay for the death ceremony of her
husband. To get bail and to pay the lawyer, she had to sell the
silver necklace. Now almost no jewelry is left and she is on the
brink of a crisis. One more illness, one more death in the family,
one more arrest and she will pushed into a debt trap that she may
never be able to shake off.
Vivek Pawar, of the Jan Sangharsh Morcha that works in
Bichhiya, says that several instances of harassment of members
of the primitive tribe, Baiga, and human rights' abuses by the
forest department have been documented.
In 2006, before the Forest Rights' Act was passed, there were
instances of attacks on Baiga tribals. One of them was in
Bichhiya block, village Bhanpur. Three guards, four fire-
watchers and four retired soldiers (recruited by the forest
department to help with its patrolling efforts) attacked a group
of Baiga tribalmen. Three were caught and badly beaten, then
taken to the Matigahan camp in Kanha, held captive and fined
Rs 5800. In another case, six Baiga and two Gond tribals were
found fishing in a nullah, using a technique called 'kurru'. They
59
managed to catch less than a kilo of tiny fish that way. On their
way back, near Sirhi, forests guards awaited them, hidden in the
lantana bushes.
The usual treatment was meted out, Pawar says. There was also
the case of Sidhho Baiga who has been to jail twice. He was taking
the bark of lantana plants to make rope with it. He alleges that
fifteen forest guards surrounded him and beat him until he lost
consciousness. Sidhho also says that he was taken to the
government hospital in Bichhiya. Pawar was informed and he
rushed to the venue but before he could meet Sidhho was
whisked out of sight, and taken straight to court. He alleges that
even the doctor on duty hit him.
One would assume that the Forest Rights' Act would have
improved the situation but according to the tribes who live
around Kanha, the harassment continues.
In another case, in January 2010, the Jan Sangharsh Morcha
found instances of harassment and bribes demanded from
tribals. A public meeting was held and a deputy ranger was made
to return the Rs 1500 that he had taken in bribes, and release the
axes which he had confiscated.
On May 14, 2010, a local newspaper Swatantra Mat reported
that three tribal men have been ordered a 'zilla badar' (also
called 'tadipaar' in Maharashtra). These 'forest offenders'
Bhujbal, Pachchoo and Barelal, all from Ajaynagar village were
accused of entering Kanha illegally. They were asked to leave the
60
district and forbidden from entering any district that borders
Mandla. This by itself would have been a harsh punishment for
people who depend on forests to survive, but another legal
requirement for this punishment is that they will have to report
to the local thana wherever they might be every day by 12 noon
or else they could be sent to jail for 3 years. How can anyone do
any work if he has to visit the police station at such regular
intervals?
2.
For the tribes who depend on it, the forest seems to have
attained the magical quality of creeping forwards. While they
are not allowed to enter the core area of national parks like
Kanha, they are allowed to enter and profit from the
surrounding area: the buffer zone. Indeed, they may enter any
forest that is not specifically termed a protected area, such as a
tiger reserve.
But the laws of the core seem to be applied to the buffer too. Or
indeed, anywhere the forest guards please. As long as tribals are
subjected to immediate arrest and transfer to camp, or court as
is done currently no matter where they are found, they can be
accused of having entered the core area in a forest.
In village Bhanpur Kheda, Phool Singh Dibariya corroborates
the testimony of Baniharo and other women who say they were
arrested from the buffer zone, not the core. If they see us, they
take us to jail. The karmchaari just don't listen to us.
61
Later, I met Kariya Baiga. He was busy making a yoke for the
bulls with his own hands. Almost everything in this community
is made by their own hands. But, he complains, They (forest
department) don't let us take wood. So it is hard to even make
our own yokes.
I asked him how he managed to get this piece of wood that he's
working on. He kept his head bent and hands busy while he
answered the question. We have to go, so we go. Chhipe-
chhipaaye (stealthily).
In effect, a perfectly harmless and almost completely
independent person has been reduced to stealing.
His daughter too has been arrested once. But Sonwati will not
say whether she was beaten or not. In fact, she says nothing at all
when questioned.
Other women say she was taking mahua from the trees along
with four women Halki, Shyama, Anusuiya, Vijanthi and two
other girls from Sirha village. There is no way of knowing
definitely whether these were the right names or whether these
names will match official records. The women admit that they
sometimes give out fake names when asked, and will not
confirm which of them answers to which name.
Kalavati, also from Bhanpur Kheda, says that sometimes women
only collect what is fallen on the ground, but even that is not
allowed. There is particular resentment against the forest guards
62
for catching them outside the core area, sometimes, even in the
bazaar.
One of them recalls, Maybe in April, or May, they (guards)
took us away at 8 am, in the buffer zone near Fakir tola. They
took us in a jeep to Saunf (a former forest village inside the core
area). Then they did paperwork and took us to Khatia Mocha
thana and then to Mandla court.
The women also complain that they are not always informed
when a family member is arrested. The deputy (ranger) sends a
message only in the evening, when it is time to do bail.
There appears to be a definite system at work. Kalavati explains,
They grab only two out of four people at first. The other two
are sent off to warn the family and to get money for bail. The
lawyer can take up to Rs 400 each time and then sometimes,
there's a mistake in the (legal) documents and you have to pay
Rs 100 again.
Those who have a little money manage to get their family or
friends released from jail. The others just stay locked in.
I asked if anyone has tried to protest against the beatings or filed
counter-cases against the forest department. But Hari Singh
Gond from Mohgaon told me that tribals don't file FIRs. We
don't know how to. We are afraid. The forest guards take us to
court. We don't say much. We don't even know procedures or
our rights. We are village people.
63
The tribes are starting to lose faith in the state, which sets itself
up in opposition to almost every need of theirs. One of the
gathered Baiga men said, We cannot solve this problem. If we
got some 'dhaakad' (bold) people to fight for us, maybe
Legal view
Manoj Gupta is a lawyer at Mandla district's court. He has
handled a number of cases involving Baiga and Gond people,
particularly from Bichhiya block. He belongs to Bichhiya
himself and says he taken the cases out of sympathy even
though it is not very lucrative.
He points out that 90% of all cases are for offences like illegal
entry into the forest and collecting minor produce. The Baiga is
probably one of the only communities that has hardly any IPC
offences registered against its members.
The zeal to trace 'forest offences' also spills far outside the
boundaries of the national park. The forest department has been
known to raid Bichhiya haat (a makeshift weekly or monthly
market), alleging that the bamboo used to make the baskets had
been cut inside the core area.
Manoj also anticipated more cases from June on. In the rains
we see cases where people are arrested for selling chhatri
(bamboo umbrellas). His cases, he says, are 'seasonal'. During
specific seasons, like the flowering of the mahua, there is a spike
in arrests. The tribals take things like chakora (chichory) or
64
mainhair (mushrooms, also called 'pihri'). Two women were
recently arrested for taking leaves. I have 25-30 cases like that at
present. Earlier, the forest guards first made a 'maamla' and then
the police arrested the culprit. Now, the law has changed. The
forest department can make arrests directly. So they take them
directly to a forest camp and beat the poor tribal. The report
always says that forest guards found so-n-so doing such-n-such
thing. The witnesses are usually 'watchers'. Farsa and phans are
found in all adivasi homes. The forest guards barge in and grab
the farsa and say so-n-so was found with a farsa in the forest.
One of my clients was arrested this way. But very rarely will you
find forest guards arresting anybody who has money. It is the
poorest who are brought to court. Because there isn't enough
evidence, 90% of the cases end in acquittal. But because they are
so poor, they don't have the money to sue the forest
department for human rights' violations. In case of an acquittal,
they don't have money to file cases for compensation.
What complicates matters is that even inside the forest, no
agency except the forest department can sanction work,
whether it is building of roads or installing hand-pumps. They
have a monopoly as employers.
He does recall a case of one Sukkal Singh who had reported two
guards under SC/ST (prevention of atrocities) Act and as well as
other sections of the IPC pertaining to abuse and assault. The
forest department promptly filed a counter-case against him for
cutting wood. He has been acquitted since, but the message sent
65
out is a very clear one.
P K Pathak, also a lawyer and one of the most senior ones at
Mandla court, says things have changed over the years and not
for the better. Legally, he said, the rights of nistar (it means
collecting forest products for self-use) are there. Dry fuel,
mahua, amla and so on. Villagers enjoy this right. But in core
areas, there is complete prohibition. Even cutting grass is
prohibited. This is a great difficulty. Even in buffer zones, people
cannot let their cattle stray or take a bamboo to sell. Even if it is
allowed, people are still harassed.
He says that about a decade ago, he saw about four or five cases a
year. Now there are at least forty, all under Wildlife Protection
Act. Actually, Section 26 of Forest Act should be applied.
Section 51 of the Wildlife Act leads to jail. See, these are only
forest offences. They are not wildlife offences. Life is becoming
impossible in the forests.
The criticism is not directed at overarching laws that are meant
to protect tigers or other endangered species. It is the way the
laws of our country are enforced. People routinely hear of
gruesome, violent crime, or frauds involving lakhs of crores. The
perpetrators are hardly ever arrested or brought to courts. Even
rarer is news of administrators using their powers to intervene.
Yet, in the case of forest offences, the crime is not proportional
to the punishment meted out.
Manoj refers to the 'zilla badar' case where Baiga tribesmen were
66
forced out of the region on the collector's orders. Zilla badar is
meant for habitual offenders, those who pose a threat to
society. It is almost like invoking the national security act. How
can you apply it to people collecting leaves and mushrooms? he
says.
He stresses the point by referring to a case filed against men who
were catching fish in a ditch. That tiny fish isn't even on any
endangered species list. It was probably worth Rs 2. But the men
were arrested, remand applications filed, court cases conducted
and so on. The whole process must have cost the government Rs
1000 or more. Who pays for all this finally? Is it worth it?
Pathak believes there is an urgent need to divide offences into
petty and non-petty offences. Petty offences should be made
compoundable. Let them (government) take fees and fines. If
no damage is done to the forest, why treat poor tribals like
criminals?
The irony of criminalizing tribals in this way is not lost on
anyone. A Baiga tribesman might be arrested for peeling the
bark off a lantana bush. But the forest department did not bat an
eye when thousands of trees were cut down to clear space for the
Narmada Kumbh, scheduled for Feb 2011. The administration
expects 20 lakh devotees and some villages in Mandla were
chosen to set up 'camps' to accommodate the visitors. In the
process, thousands of trees were cut down illegally before
anyone noticed. Eventually, 3 women and 27 men were
67
arrested. Several hundred trees were also cut to install a high
tension power grid near Bichhiya. Apart from that, the forest
department cuts down trees regularly to auction it through its
depots.
The problem, clearly, is not the act of cutting trees. The problem
is that the state government is free to use the forests as it wishes
and make a profit while the tribes are not.
68
Displacement and forest-dwelling tribes
Economic independence, food security, health negatives
Vikalp, an NGO based in Bichhiya has been conducting detailed
impact studies when it comes to displacement and tribal groups.
They conducted a survey through a questionnaire through
which it emerged that food security is down, debt is up, disease is
up, conflict is up, community life and culture is disappearing.
Alcoholism is up too. Families are fractured and live far apart
due to migration. There is hardly any access to milk products.
The relocated community lost plentiful forest land and endless
grazing grounds. Now with limited land, they have less grain.
There isn't enough land or water for the herds, so the cows and
buffaloes had to be abandoned or were lost to drowning
accidents. Which meant that the people lost valuable milk
protein and income from ghee or butter. Lack of access to
bamboo means they cannot build their own tools or household
items, which means an additional market expense, which means
less money for food or cultural activities.
1.
Bobai, a Baiga woman from Mohgaon, says that all members of
the tribe are driven into manual labour. If I could get bamboo, I
would have made baskets and sold in bichhiya. We would get Rs
100-150 sometimes on a good market day. We would make
brooms from chhindiya grass. Now the most we can hope for is
69
Rs 100 for 'rozgar' work, which comes only four days a month.
She elaborates that as labourers elsewhere, people get 15 paili (1
paili = kilo) of rice. So after one day's labour, they get 4 kg of
rice. If you go a little further, to Haveli or to Anjaniya, then
you get 2 kuro (= 8 kilos) of rice per day, she says. [1 kuro = 10
paili].
Another Baiga woman complained, We cannot get bamboo to
make chattris for the rain. The regular umbrellas don't work for
us because we make a special kind which we can wear in the fields,
so that our hands are free to work.
The tribe also eats most kinds of meat. But they can no longer
get any. They point out that earlier, if a tiger killed an animal,
they'd eat what was left over. Earlier, if we saw a sambhar or
chital carcass after a tiger left it, we would have eaten whatever
flesh remained. Now, if the tiger kills something, the forest
people just burn the remaining flesh and carcass.
Nowadays, the tribals say the forest department is so strict that
they don't allow even the plucking of jamun from the trees or
chironji, which seems particularly cruel to me.
New Delhi, for instance, is full of Jamun trees and when the
season is right, hundreds of poor people collect whatever falls
from the trees and not only do they eat it, they all sell it at traffic
signals and at fruit markets. Even in Bichhiya, I myself had
stopped to pick and eat jamuns from a luxuriantly laden tree
70
near Bhanpur Kheda village. It seems cruel and ironic that the
average urban citizen should be able to do this, while poor
forest-dwelling tribes cannot.
Kariya Baiga is part of that branch of the Baiga tribe which has
transitioned from food-gathering to farming. They used to live
inside the area that is now part of the core area in Kanha. Kariya
says he had at least 36 acres and 60 odd heads of cattle. After the
village was displaced, he has six acres and some people did not get
any land when they were moved.
We make Rs 800-900 if we sell mustard (ramtila or jagni).
That's all. The foodgrains are all consumed by the family and
even that is not enough. We can buy only kanki and khandar
which is broken rice. We had access to wild vegetables or could
grow them earlier, now vegetables have to be bought from the
bazaar. Earlier we had enough grain and we could exchange is for
other things we needed. We used to grow 100 bori of rice, at
least five to six bori of other types of grain. Now we can grow
only one bori of maize and about five bori of rice.
Mahoon (Kuropaniha) is an old Baiga from Mohagaon. He
doesn't know how old he is could well be in his seventies or
eighties but he has never been to a hospital all his life. All
illnesses were cured within the forest. He says he has perfect
eyesight. But now he has no income or financial independence.
He goes to Haveli to work as a labourer at harvest time. The
younger boys in the village go to Raipur because there is no
71
work to be found closer home, in Jabalpur. He is dependent on
his kids and grandkids. If he had access to bamboo or 'mohlain
patta', he could have made leaf plates or baskets to support
himself or supplement the family income.
Because communities are so inter-connected, what affects the
Baiga, affects the other tribes. Hari Singh, for instance, a Gond
from Mohgaon, says, If we ever needed treatment, we went to
the Davar (which is what the Gond call the Baiga) for jadi-booti.
Even Gonds who live in the forest don't know much about
medicines and plants, not the way Baiga people know. Now of
course, you cannot go inside (the park) with an axe. You cannot
even walk on their roads. You have to sign your name before
you go in.
The Baiga no longer have access to the jadi-booti they used to
make medicines. And what the Baiga cannot make, the Gond
cannot count on. Naturally, health expenses have mounted.
The younger generation, they say, is in and out of hospitals
every other year.
2.
Nobody worked as a labourer before Kanha was created. They
say they did not even go out to look for work in the same basti
or village. The Baiga would not even work for the Gonds who did
have farms. They just collected a dozen different kinds of
'kanda'. They knew of Kaniha Kand which, when smashed,
revealed a significant amount of seed, like rice grains it yielded
72
upto 4 kg which was enough to feed a small family for a week. It
was a much better life where they could look for food items
rather than till farms regularly.
Now, they struggle with fields that need irrigation, and chafe
against forest laws. Ramdas Panika, one of the residents of
village Saunf which was relocated from the core area inside
Kanha, was found digging a well in Bhanpur Kheda. The
government has allotted some land to the panchayat. People
began to dig and found water at 25 feet. So they have begun to
make it a proper well through the rozgar scheme. They are
supposed to get Rs 100 a day as wages on this work. The wages
are yet to arrive. Kala bai is a ward member from this village and
her son Prem Singh keeps everybody's job cards and enters
'haziri' or attendance for about 20 people, with a different set of
people getting a chance to work each week.
Ramdas says that he used to have six acres before he was
displaced. He still has that much. But in Saunf, he doesn't recall
working so hard. There were more animals. From one plot of
land, we got 7 kuro of rice. Now I get 3 kuro at the most.
He believes this is because the farm is not close to trees. When
leaves fell into the fields, they rotted, so the field stayed fertile.
There was more rain in the forests. Here, there is nothing.
The village now has a primary school. The 'master' (teacher)
lives in the village and attends regularly. There is a functional
anganwadi and the anganwadi worker goes to different homes
73
and fetches the smaller children. It doesn't have severe
malnutrition thus far.
But Ramdas recalls that when Saunf was first relocated, people
were dumped on dry plots of land with no access to drinking
water. They had to steal water from wells in neighbouring
villages, such as Katanga, Sirhi and Majhipur.
With lamps and buckets, we would set out at midnight to steal
water, one bucket at a time. About 4-5 years ago, we got a hand
pump. After a year, we dug a well for ourselves. There were no
wages coming from the government. The forest department
gave us money only for the judaai (making the well's wall
pukka) after we had finished the well.
The irony is that now, villagers from Majhipur come to take
water from the wells of Bhanpur Kheda. Anyway, Ramdas says,
the well had about a capacity for 50 buckets, no more. The
villagers have dug three more wells and found a little bit of water
in each. But there is never enough.
Ramdas describes his village as a 'phenka hua gaon'. Something
that has been dumped somewhere, like so much garbage. It is
not a real village. It is not fit to be called a village.
Given a chance, he would go back in a trice. I would return to
Saunf if I could. Life was so much easier. Until the age of 18-19,
when I got married, I hadn't done any real work there.
The decision to move out was a foolish mistake, he thinks.
74
Some big minister, maybe he was the CM, I don't know who.
He said: 'Those who want to leave, raise your hands'. So the
elders raised their hands.
And with that, it was done. The villagers didn't understand the
consequences of moving out of the forest. Now they do.
Ramdas says, You don't understand the kind of wealth we had.
We had 50 heads of cattle per family. I still have some. We
brought the cattle with us but there was a dam nearby. They kept
falling in and drowning. Anyway, there is no water for cattle to
drink. No fodder. In a year or so, all our cattle wealth
disappeared. Earlier we had Surkum, Bandri bahra, rivers which
ran twelve months of the year. Now there is no river.
He goes on to say that political leaders have been misleading
them about relocation plans. One Tulsiram came and showed
us a map and access to water from Linga and Khallar rivers. He
said we will lay fat pipes and you will get enough water. Now he
has won the election and visited us only twice. Even that was
only to inform us that we should not go to the jungle to cut
wood or we might get shot.
3.
There are growing problems of indebtedness too.
Kariya had got a machine to drill a well on his own fields, to get
water for irrigation. In 2003, he had taken a loan and brought
home a pump, which came as a part of the loan he got from
75
Punjab National Bank. The loan amount was Rs 50,000. He
admitted, I have not repaid a single penny. They keep
threatening to send me to jail. Sometimes they say I should
somehow repay, sweep their office at least.
He laughs as he says this. But on a more serious note, he cannot
afford to repay. The water pumped up is enough only to drink,
not to irrigate fields. They (the bank) send me notices, drive
th
down in jeeps to tell me I must repay by the 30 of the month,
or the loan amount will double. But I don't have the money,
whether it doubles or triples. They came to complain to the
gram panchayat too. I said they could take the pump. Then I
realized that they have put down all my six acres as collateral.
They will take my land too.
Kariya also took a Rs 5000 loan from 'aajeevika' to repair the
pump and to buy a length of pipe. He has no idea how much
interest is being charged. All he knows is that he cannot repay.
Do what you will. Put me in jail. What else can I say?
Legal expenses are also proving to be more of a financial burden
than most families can deal with. Just paying Rs 500 as legal fees
can lead to debt.
Phool Singh had to borrow money from other families to get
his wife released. He has to work as a manual labourer for other
expenses, besides which, he has taken a loan at 10% monthly
interest. For every Rs 100 he borrows, he has to pay Rs 10 as
interest each month. That translates into 120% per annum.
76
Most of the Baiga people in Bhanpur Kheda say they have pattas
for land but don't have pattas or legal documents for collective
forest rights, which includes grazing, cutting wood, gathering
leaves and herbs etc. They know they have to file claims but
don't know how to do it. No officials have explained the
procedure to them, nor made it easy.
They have submitted applications, which the van adhikar samiti
has to approve and send on to the panchayat, which will send it
on to the district. The district administration has to approve it,
but there is no guarantee that it will. Mandla, for instance, has
turned down a bunch of forest rights' claims from Patha
panchayat.
People also complain that the van suraksha samiti doesn't
always have Baigas, or even other adivasis, as committee
members.
Other dangers
Despite difficulties, tribes pull along, mainly because of strong
community bonds even between tribes. For instance, Baniharo
doesn't have a patta and it is very hard to get bail without a patta.
Somebody else needs to stand guarantee in your stead. In her
case, Kopa Gond Neti pitched in with a patta guarantee. That is
how she managed to get bail.
But the other dangerous development is the role of a 'fire-
watcher' who seems to be working more like as guide and
77
witness for the forest department. What the fire-watcher is
actually being used for is not so much to watch out for forest
fires but to accompany forest guards on their patrols, helping to
catch people who collect forest produce, or in the event that
they take to their heels and hide in their hamlets to identify
individuals and take the guards to their houses.
Baniharo clearly recognizes the fire-watcher who was amongst
the posse of guards on the day she was chased by the 'forest', she
says. She was a woman. Gunthri Gond. She is from around here
and we know her.
It is hard to say how the conflict will turn out but it isn't hard to
guess that community ties will be strained if the state goes on
using a few individuals almost like informers who identify and
chase offenders belonging to their own villages. There are
enough precedents in central India for us to know what happens
when one group of people is armed or empowered by the state
through wages and the power to inform on others in the village.
Other villagers in Mohgaon point out that forest patrols get
more intensive all the time. One village elder spat out, The
'forest' will not rest until there is an armed guard standing under
every tree. For every 'sipahi' (guard) there seems to be one fire-
watcher. They catch our cattle. We somehow get the animals
released, then the people are caught. We spend a lot of time
doing peshi (making court appearances).
The forest department needs to be careful of how it is perceived.
78
One well-educated, non-tribal in Mandla told me that Kanha is
basically a holiday home for the state elite, not a home for the
tiger.
VIPs and politicians, judiciary, IAS, IFS all hang around Kanha.
They come in the winter. They like to relax here. They want to be
treated a certain way. They think the tribals can go wherever, just
as long as the place can be maintained in style. The forest
department is their gofer; that's why it is needed. Why else?
There is a growing sense of dispossession amongst non-tribals
too. The same individual believes the tribals feel like slaves. We
(middle-class Indians) gradually became aware of our slave
status during the freedom struggle, because of the foreign
government's policies. That's what the government is doing to
the tribals now. Amongst women especially, there is a lot of
resentment. One person at a time, the state is creating a force of
naxalites, maovaadis, whatever you want to call them.
The park view
Kanha has a core area of 940 sq km.
Nobody asked the Baiga who are almost wholly dependent on the
forest whether they approved of national parks. But when the
orders to move out of Kanha were given, they didn't protest so
strongly because they had no idea that displacement might
translate into this: an endless game of cat-n-mouse when it came
to forest produce, followed by a costly, exhausting game of 'peshi'.
79
Dr Rakesh Shukla, Research Officer at the Kanha National Park
met me readily enough. But the moment I brought up the
'displacement' word, he pointed out the vital difference
between the state view and my own. You call it displacement,
we call it relocation.
According to him, the park's core-buffer strategy is an effective
one. Both areas are under separate field directors. The national
park is very fragile. The biotic pressure of humans and cattle is
huge. In the buffer, which is 991 sq km, we use no conventional
forestry practices, only conservation practices. We have eco-
development committees in 150 villages. There is a tacit
understanding: you help us conserve and we help you.
The tribes might have a quibble with that. As far as they are
concerned, the forest department is not helping them in any
significant way.
However, Dr Shukla says there are 17 villages in the core area
even now (there were 18 but they have just successfully
relocated Jamee, a village of 7000 people and 7000-8000
cattle). In the core, nobody is allowed. This is just according to
Supreme Court guidelines. We have a lot of 'don'ts' for those
people. So we try to relocate, make them developed. Since 1969
to 1998, 27 villages were relocated. Now we give Rs 10 lakh as
compensation. 18 year old boys, and widows and orphans and
disabled people too. There were originally 66 families but
according to the new definition of the term 'family', there are
80
153. All have got Rs 10 lakhs from the National Tiger
Conservation Authority.
As part of the relocation deal, oustees are given only a small part
of the compensation in cash. One lakh is in their account; Rs 9
lakh is deposited in another joint account with the DM who
releases it only after alternate land is found and they get the title
deed for the new land. Dr Shukla says that NGOs and retired
forest officers help the oustees to negotiate alternate land so
they aren't cheated. Seven more villages have agreed to move,
the process is on.
I asked him what happens to those who didn't want to move. He
said there was no such person. Rs 10 lakh is a lot of money. If
you count brothers as a unit, some families have got Rs 60 or 70
lakh. That is a lot of money.
He adds, after a pause, that he cannot speak for those who were
moved out earlier, before the central policy decided to make its
generous offer.
Dr Shukla says that in the buffer, produce can be collected even
now. But he admits, The degree of protection is high. Forest
officials in Kanha have a history of being strict with offenders.
Organized wildlife crime has not been a headache here so far.
He also admits that local tribals have not been involved in
poaching. They might eat a chital or two. Very occasionally, in
revenge for eating cattle, they might poison an animal. But
most offences are minor.
81
When I asked him about conflict between forest department
officials and local people, he said there wasn't any. We have
learnt to live together. They know not to go in or else they will
be in trouble. There is sparring, but no murder. No rallies with
thousands of people protesting. We help them with doctors and
mobile vans, health camps.
I asked how many cases were registered per year under the
Wildlife Act particularly minor offences and whether the
number is going up. I am still waiting for an answer.
Basics: A few things to remember about Madhya Pradesh while
discussing displacement and deforestation
The MP State of Forest Report 2009 says that the main
reason for decrease in forest dense cover is the increase of
the water level in the Indira Sagar and Omkareshwar dams
and Bandh Sagar dam. Not a lot of tribals with a lot of cows.
Dams.
There are plans to build several dams on the Narmada.
There were 29 big ones planned in MP, 145 mid-sized ones
and 3000 small ones.
The MP Forest Department has started 'voluntary village
relocation'. There is no independent survey that shows any
village wants to move of its own free will. However, the
state's own websites show that in Satpura forest, there are 38
revenue and 26 forest villages, of which only one is being
82
relocated. In Bandhavgarh, none had been relocated (at
least based on the figures released on the forest website)
There are 62 forest divisions in MP. There are 9 national
parks, 25 sanctuaries. 5 project tiger areas and 6 protected
areas.
MP has 9.38% of the land in India. The population is 6.03
crore of which 73.33% is rural. The tribal population is 19.9%
of the total. Livestock population is 3.15 crore (with 20
lakh 'visiting cattle' from Rajasthan and Gujarat)
Of 52,739 villages, some 22,600 are near forests, which
means less than 5 km from forest and at least partial
dependence on forest resources can be safely assumed.
The national forest policy envisages one third of India
under forest cover. MP accounts for 12.44% of India's forest
cover.
The State of the Forest Report of 2009 says total forest
cover in MP is 28.28%. Of this, reserved forest is 65.36%,
protected forest is 32.84% and unclassified is 1.7%. Dense
forest is 13.57%; open forest is 11.22%. From 2004 onwards,
the 'very dense cover' has decreased and 'scrub and non-
forest' area has increased.
The MP forest website admits that the economy of tribals is
linked inextricably to forests.
83
 The state has been promoting 'Lok Vaniki', making patches
of forest on private land, or promotion of private forestry.
But there are general restrictions on the cutting of trees (or
transporting wood through forest areas), which can lead to
a serious crisis. How can a villager prove that a tree he is
carrying was his own? How much time and money will it
cost the state (and affected citizens) to prove that a given
piece of wood is his own property? Please refer Annexure 1.
The state says it has been giving out 'open forest' for
Jatropha plantation in 'degraded' forest area. Not
promoting reforestation of the dense kind, but Jatropha.
Nor is the state working towards converting 'degraded'
areas into common grazing grounds for forest dwellers.
There are 7056 'beats' of an average of 13 sq km of forest
land. Each beat has a guard. Illegal felling, illegal possession
of forest produce, transport, and encroachment of forest
land or setting fire to forests are all forest crimes. There are
rewards to 'informers' of Rs 1500 to detect forest offences.
The volume of growing timber is 500 lakh cubic meter and
its value is Rs 2.5 lakh crore. Forestry earned the state Rs
491.97 crore, in 2005-06. In 2008-09, this went up to Rs
685.57 crore. This was actually above the state 'target' of Rs
600 crore. This is cited under 'milestones'. Does the state
really 'need' to cut so much wood? Does the life of the
forest department depend on it? They why does it cut wood
84
and sell that much wood?
The website says that 15 lakh families are getting the benefit
of 'nistar' (or collecting forest produce for self-use). The
concessions offered (through subsidies on timber and
bamboo) are worth Rs 35 crore per year.
Basics: A few things to remember about power generation in
India
Our total installed capacity is 161,351.80MW. The states
produce 52.5%; the centre produces 34% and the private
sector produces 13.5%.
Thermal power accounts for 64.6% of generated electricity,
hydro power for another 24.7% and nuclear power for 2.9%.
Renewable sources account for 7.7%, which includes
biomass power and industrial water power and wind energy
etc.
Ministry of renewable energy says power from renewable
sources until 2010 was 16817.29 MW. If you include off-
grid power, it goes up to 172218.86 MW, across 5,348
villages and hamlets.
The share of solar power is only 8.15 MW, even though
India gets 5000 trillion KW/year of solar energy. The TERI
website says solar energy is a 'dilute' source, which makes it
sound a trifle dismissive of the stated potential. It makes no
mention of efforts being made to tap into this source. The
85
 Nehru solar mission recommends a 3-stage
implementation leading to a capacity of 20,000 MW by
the year 2022. But so far proposals have been cleared for
only 29 MW on grid-connected projects.
Power generation performances for thermal and hydro
power have improved from 2008-09. Nuclear power
performance declined.
India's total installed capacity needs to go up to 2,00,000
MW.
86
Conclusion
In this section, I outline a few basic points about what the people
(the ones I interviewed) want, or what they fear, and some
details of what is wrong with the state approach to development.
Chief concerns:
Suppression of information
Refusal to consider alternatives to the major power project
Social impact of 'mainstreaming' tribal culture
Subversion of democracy and constitutional safeguards
People's reasons for not wanting to relocate
Based on multiple conversations with different groups in all
these villages, these are the major reasons for people opposing
relocation:
Loss of secure livelihood.
Loss of property [This would include cattle and other
livestock losses, which would be inevitable if grazing
grounds aren't available, or else if houses are not large
enough to accommodate the animals]
Loss of food diversity.
Loss of access to water and forests.
87
 Loss of human relationships and emotional bonds with the
homeland [As far as the local population, particularly the
tribal peoples are concerned, this is their 'watan', their
'desh'. They don't feel they really belong anywhere outside.
As one octogenarian, Pyaari bai, put it, I have
grandchildren. Why should I go elsewhere in my old age?
Where will the government uproot us and put us now? I
just want to go to sleep in this earth.]
Pollution and negative impact on health.
This last point is critical given the nature of the proposed
project. India doesn't have the kind of safety record in its
existing nuclear facilities that allow people to stop worrying.
A report by MV Ramana and Ashwin Kumar [The Economic
and Political Weekly; February 13, 2010] cites half a dozen
instances of near-fatal accidents or leaks and concludes that
NPCIL has not developed the capability to reliably manage
hazardous technologies. Kaiga 1994: the inner containment
dome collapsed. Narora 1993: blades of a turbine broke off,
leading to a fire which operators had to control manually.
Kalpakkam 1999: heavy water leak that had to be mopped up by
42 workers. Another leak in 2001. Kalpakkam 2003: failure of
a valve and BARC's management refusal to shut down
operations despite the safety committee's recommendation.
Safety concerns led to a strike by workers in 2003. Before that,
in 1997, Kalpakkam workers had had to go on strike because the
88
management suspended five workers who refused to work in
high-radiation areas.
There have been radiation leaks from badly maintained pipelines
and workers have been set to dig near pipelines with no
protective gear whatsoever. One particular incident in 1991
involved a whitewasher plastering a room with dangerous heavy
water, and even washed his hands and face in it. The incident
stands out for its sheer, incredible carelessness and the way in
which the poor worker just disappeared afterwards.
There are multiple problems design flaws, lower-grade concrete
blocks, hints at corruption, management's lack of
responsibility, interference in safety decisions by the
department of atomic energy and the atomic energy
corporation. The officials' refusal to acknowledge safety-related
problems and refusal to acquaint employees with the dangers of
the job is even more worrying.
Shiv Prasad Lodhi, for instance, is worried about the resultant
pollution of the 'parmanu' on both water and air. I don't know
what 'parmanu' is. But I know it can cause disease. We are told
the relocation will be quite a distance away. Surely the plant is
harmful, why else? And if we die, what good would Rs 50 lakh
do, even if the government wanted to give us so much money?
His fears concerning Chutka are valid considering that the state
hasn't bothered to talk to the to-be-affected population about
how nuclear plants work, or how toxic waste will be disposed,
89
how local water boies will be used. If any jobs are available, it will
probably be cleaning or digging or painting jobs. People have
no reason to trust that leaks will not happen, or that the safety of
low-skilled, uneducated workers will be uppermost in the minds
of the management at a nuclear plant.
Solution
If the state reaches out to people, they will come up with their
own definitions and models of development.
One example is Karanjia, another village in Bichhiya block where
they have been hearing about a dam on the Halon river since
forever. Locals say the water flow has steadily decreased to the
point that there's nothing left to dam. Yet, officials say the dam
will be beneficial. They want to know: for whom? They are now
asking that the state give them in writing a brief about how the
dam is supposed to benefit them.
It sounds fair. If the state government and the administration
really are convinced that the dam will benefit everyone
including the community then it should be able to spell out
how, and what kind of benefits will accrue. If these benefits do
not accrue, people should be able to sue for damages.
An elderly man, Churaman Jharia, says the solution to
displacement-related conflict is very simple. Let them prepare
houses and fields beforehand, then give us a year to see if the
relocation is working for us. If we decide it is, then they can
90
break our homes and mow our fields down and build their
dam.
Betrayed by the tongue
As Dr Shukla told me, perhaps the main issue here is the problem
of approach and this is reflected in our choice of words. What I
called 'displacement', he called 'relocation'. When the lawyers
call 'extra-strictness', forest department officials call 'high
degree of protection', and the tribals call 'harassment'.
Similarly, Kanha and the tigers are high on the state's priority
list. One look at the Madhya Pradesh official website should tell
you just how high it calls itself 'Tiger State'. There are already
nine national parks and many more wildlife sanctuaries. It
doesn't call itself 'tribal' state, or even 'Baiga' state.
Another example: Local populations know the Narmada by
several names. But for officials, the river doesn't change names.
It changes 'zones' upper, middle and lower. There are already 30
large, 135 mid-sized and 3000 small dams proposed and the
locations are determined zonally.
Another instance from the Madhya Pradesh website, which says,
the economy of tribals is linked inextricably with forests. It
also says that 6 lakh people make a living from the sale of forest
produce, mostly 'fuel headload'. It places the value of fuelwood
removed through headloads at Rs 250 crore. It also measures
the 'value' of its forests in the form of 'growing timber' which is
91
500 lakh cubic meter, valued at Rs 2.5 lakh crore.
The tribals who live in the forest, however, do not measure
wealth in terms of cubic meters or crores. It yields things that
enable survival, but the forest is not the sum of its saleable parts.
This is best illustrated by Sachin Kumar Jain's report on a
predominantly Baiga hamlet in Dindori block, which illustrates
what happens in a situation when tribespeople take the
protection of forests too seriously. In the Baigachuk area, there
is Kothia hamlet (panchayat Dhaba), where the Baiga tribals
have been closely observing the impact of state intervention
upon the forests. Since 1980-82, there had been a series of
measures that led to the destruction of dense forest cover
cutting off of lantana followed by cutting of wood (by
labourers brought in from other villages). Within a couple of
years, the Baigas found their food security threatened. In 1998,
the Sal borer attack caused the clearing of about 90 hectares of
forests, they estimate. All Baigas know that the attack happens
in cycles of 35 years, but the clearing of the forests went on until
2001. They also know that having a great diversity of trees is
important for that reason so that the Sal borer attack damages
only part of the forest. But the forest department only focuses
on trees like Sal and Sagon, which yield wood that fetches good
money in the market.
At the same rate as the forest thinned, the Baigas' problems
multiplied. The children became malnourished. Farms yielded
92
lesser grain. The villagers then decided that it was time to stop
treating the forest as just a source of wood. They lay down
stringent rules for themselves, which include measures like not
entering the forest with an axe in your hands, even though an
axe is very much a part of the Baiga culture since even children
minding cattle used to carry one around to protect themselves
from wild animals. They also don't allow anyone to set fires
inside the forest, although the Baiga have been known to use fire
to clear land, since they practices shifting agriculture. Even
smoking beedi in the forest has been disallowed.
The problem, of course, arose when the forest department
wanted to move in with axes. The locals refused to allow it.
Forest officials say that Sal trees are ready to be cut down when
they are 25 years old because any later and the wood begins to
get hollow. Tribals say they don't care. They don't need the
wood to be cut. A tree is a live creature, not just a length of
timber.
The essential difference is this fact: The tribes have always lived
here and intend to do so as far as they can help it. The state (and
forest department) comprises of a bunch of people who have
been hired to carry out certain tasks that bring in a certain
amount of profit; they don't have to live here or suffer the
consequences directly.
As Manoj Gupta pointed out, Adivasi means those who live
here since adi kaal (ancient age). It is obvious that the
93
government is the 'kabza karoo' (occupational) force.
The state is squatting on adivasi land, in effect, and not vice
versa. The great irony, of course, is that the state has claimed to
approve of the Baiga way of life. It is rumoured that Indira
Gandhi wanted to declare the Baiga as the 'National Man'
because the community lives so close to nature. But attempts to
preserve their way of life are perhaps restricted to museums.
Another interesting phrase I heard time and again: 'bandhi
mazdoori'. It means daily wage labour but the choice of the
word 'bandhi' also seems to imply bondage or a curtailment of
freedoms.
A small clue also lies embedded in the way non-tribals
especially those in block-level towns and district headquarters in
the Mahakoshal view the Chutka issue. The newspaper Raj
Express,
Express for instance, on 22-4-2010 carried an item under the
headline 'Gaon mein pahunchi survey team ko grameeno ne
khadeda' (Villagers chase survey team out of the village), as part
of a regular section titled 'Agyaanta' (Uneducated-ness or the
lack of knowledge). The report itself was peppered with words
like 'bhrantiyaan', implying that the villagers' opposition was
based on misconceptions and superstitions, that their fears were
unfounded and therefore illegitimate. There was no reference to
real health concerns due to radiation or leaks.
A series on severe malnutrition done by Tehelka earlier this year
has prodded Chief Minister Shivraj Singh Chauhan into giving an
94
interview to the magazine. In answer to a question on
displacement, this is what he said:
I believe that tribals alone form the mainstream of
Madhya Pradesh. People like us who speak about
mainstreaming them are the ones who have come from
outside. We have displaced tribals for dams, coal mines,
power projects and the 'Save the Tiger' project. We want
development but it can't be at the cost of the tribal alone.
We decided in the current legislature session that if we
take any land for these projects, we will offer a
compensation amount of Rs 5 lakh per acre of land. We
will also guarantee displaced families permanent
employment. And if a company that has taken their land
fails to give them employment, it must give them Rs
4,000 per month till the time it operates in the area.
It is a major statement for the chief minister to make. In effect,
he is confessing that the state has unfairly snatched resources
from poor tribespeople. The problem with his answer is that
even now, he is talking about compensation. He is not talking
about the legitimacy of tribal lifestyles and their right to not
change the way they live.
In response to the question of how he intends to 'mainstream'
tribals, the CM again reveals a top-down, urbanized, anti-
survival approach. He talks of Kapil Dhara and other schemes.
We have tried to bring in irrigation through dams,
95
 bandhs, digging wells and by providing diesel pumps to
draw water. Second, education for children is the biggest
change agent that will help them move out of farming and
to other areas. Through ashramshalas and hostels we have
opened, you can see that these children think differently.
Third, to ensure a more permanent employment I have
opened skill-training institutes. In Singroli and Sidhi, we
have opened polytechnic institutes to help tribals become
skilled labourers so that they can avail more opportunities
and work outside.
In short, the focus is on more dams, which will mean more
displacement, or pumps, which will deplete groundwater
resources.
The second and third points are related to education and
employability. Activists allege that the tribal development
department has more or less been reduced to a 'hostel
department'. It has no powers to deal with forest rights, access to
forest resources or violations. Much of its effort is directed at
setting up hostels for tribal students outside the villages. Again,
the focus is not on bringing quality education to the tribes, or
even allowing them to focus on skills they already value and
wish to preserve. The focus is on moving tribal children out of
their villages into 'ashramshalas' or making them 'skilled
labourers' who can find work 'outside'.
The CM doesn't seem to realize: they don't want to go outside!
96
What the chief minister doesn't immediately see, or doesn't
want to say, has been spelt out clearly by the state's forest
management website:
A moot question related to the management of forests is
that whom should these benefits, accruing from the
forests, go to? Should the forests be managed to maximise
production of good quality timber to feed construction
and furniture industries or should they be managed to
maximize production of fuel wood and fodder to serve the
requirements of rural poor. Another view could be that
the forests should be managed to conserve the natural
habitat for wildlife instead of high growth objectives.
These are the questions which determine the objectives of
forest management.
In short, these are issues of ownership: Who owns the forests,
the land, the rivers?
If the tribes really are the mainstream in the mind of the state's
rulers, then it is time the state stopped snatching their natural
resources.
The school of snatch: a summation
The essential problem with displacement and rights of tribal
communities is one of approach.
The principal issue is that people feel as if the state the
government and the administration, both is simply not
97
listening. They make repeated attempts to be heard: they send the management's attitude towards the safety of poor people
letters; they protest, rally, sit on dharna; they occupy streets and has not been exactly exemplar.
are arrested. When they find that the only response is a renewed
Besides, as Rajkumar Sinha pointed out, many officials find it
attempt to shut them up, they begin to lose faith and start to
hard to imagine a world where profits are shared, where
take decisions, regardless of the nation's laws.
livelihoods rather than cold, hard cash is the primary driving
This might translate into a refusal to allow surveyors to do their force.
job, or confiscating equipment, or threatening officials. After
There is no doubt that India's energy needs are growing. It is also
all, the state broke the law first by not waiting for the
certain that power-related projects will have to be set up. But it
community's permission before saying 'yes' to any given
would be worthwhile checking out how much of the states' and
project.
centre's research budget is pumped into nuclear energy and how
It might also translate into repeated 'forest offences', for the much into renewable energy sources.
community does not consider their work as an offence in the
The ministry responsible for solar energy, for instance, seems to
first place. Laws were not formulated with their consent and
display a markedly negative attitude towards the potential of
they see no reason to comply. They might even fight against the
this source, focusing on the difficulties rather than the
state to protect the forest instead of commercially exploiting it,
triumphs. A proper investigation into this is beyond the scope
and in fact, are doing so already.
of this report, but these are questions that are located within the
Time and again, people particularly tribal communities have larger problem of 'approach'. After all, other countries are
found that their views and needs are ignored. Assurances by making aeroplanes fly on solar energy. Surely, we could light up
elected representatives have yielded little, barring grief. Food some street lamps and malls?
security has been eroded and despite hundreds of hunger-
The state not just Madhya Pradesh but all of India will have to
related deaths, the government has failed to see that the
realign projects along a 'people's model' of development where
essential problem is that the community's access to natural more people benefit from the same set of resources.
resources has been cut off. They are a little tired of dispossession
and do not wish to give in so easily.

Besides, nuclear projects are not entirely risk-free and thus far,

98 99
Annexure 1
The following is a note recently circulated by activists working in
Madhya Pradesh that might be useful in understanding how conflict
between forest department officials and people living in or near forest
villages is escalating.
3 adivasis, including Valsingh Sastia, senior leader of Jagrit Adivasi
Dalit Sangathan, have been arrested on serious non-bailable charges,
on a complaint filed by the Forest Department. In May, villagers of
Karanpura and other villages of Pansemal range had got together to
donate some wood to their comrade, Valsingh Bhai,since the roof
beams of his house had begun to rot. These were slender poles taken
trees that they had grown and protected on their own land. When
Valsingh Bhai was transporting this wood to his home, he was stopped
by Pansemal forest range officials. He explained that he was carrying
this wood for house building and that it had been given to him by his
comrades,. The forest officials first said that they had called the SDO
who would take a decision in this matter. When the SDO failed to
appear, but word started spreading in the area that Valsingh has been
wrongfully stopped and local people started gathering at the spot, the
forest officials disappeared.
Two days later, a case of loot and robbery, obstructing and harming
government officials was registered against Valsingh Bhai and 2
others- Bhaisingh Davar and his son Shera Davar (392, 353,332 IPC).
The latter two were arrested last week and Valsingh Bhai was arrested
today. Bhaisingh Davar's tractor has been confiscated.
Valsingh Sastia has been leading adivasis of Barwani district in their
struggle for the realization of their legal and constitutional rights,
including rights under the Forest Rights Act.
100
There is great anger among the adivasis of this predominantly tribal
district. This incident has roused an ancient anger against forest-
police violence. Kacharsingh Dudwe, Tarkibai, Bilatibai and others are
protesting asking do adivasis have the right to a roof over their heads?
When we do not even have enough food to eat how we can build
cement houses. All adivasis live in kacha houses with timber roof
beams. So they should arrest the entire adivasi community. This was
wood from trees grown by us, why is the government harassing us
with false cases? In any case it is the forest department that has
destroyed the forest. Even today illegal forest timber is being openly
sold under the very noses of forest officials with their full connivance.
The Forest Rights Act acknowledges the historical injustice done to
adivasis and acknowledges their right to dwellings in and around
forest areas.
Thousands of adivasis affiliated to Jagrit Adivasi Dalit Sangathan,
including women and children have already started a sustained
agitation against these arrests. Around 2000 adivasis participated in a
two day protest dharna at 5 police stations of the district on 27-28th
July. Pansemal range was gheraoed, though when the forest officials
saw the people coming, they locked their office and homes and ran
away. Adivasis are planning mass courting of arrests at least 6 police
stations within the next few days.
Please condemn these arrests and join us in our protests. Please
contact the district administration at Madhya Pradesh Forest
Minister: Dr. Sartaj Singh: 9425008821, FAX 0755-2550492
Superintendent of Police: Shri Raghuveer Singh Meena (I.P.S.)
Phone : 09425188332, +91-7290-222561 (Office)
+91-7290-222527 (Res.), +91-7290-223304 (Fax)
E-Mail: spobar@mp.gov.in
101
Annexure 2
Extracts from Shriya Mohan's Tehelka series on hunger in tribal
districts in MP.
Currently, in the power corridors of the Union government,
debates rage about the National Food Security Act. As per the
provisions of the Act, families living below the government-
defined poverty line will be provided 25 kg of rice or wheat per
month at Rs 3 per kg. There are however sharp disagreements on
the net pool of people who should qualify for the food subsidies
and if the allotted 25 kg of grains will prove to be sufficient for
the family.
Consider the case of Madhya Pradesh the state often billed as
starvation central of India, where hundreds of thousands of
Mausams scrape through each day not knowing if there will be
food tomorrow. For at least a fifth of Madhya Pradesh,
comprising 46 Scheduled Tribes, the state is the powerful sun
whose light and warmth never touches the darkness that
envelopes them.
Of these, four specific tribes, forming nearly 20 percent of the
total ST population, are the most impoverished, faring the
lowest in all the human development indicators the Baiga,
Korku, Mawasi and Saharia. Most live in inaccessible terrains
where government schemes are fractured and 'development'
still an unknown word. Every year, malnutrition affects their
children, taking away their childhood and very often, their lives
102
altogether. Even today, the Baiga and Korku children fill their
stomachs only with paige, the simplest and coarsest possible
soup.
In 2010, a report published by the Asian Legal Resource Centre,
a human rights organisation with a General Consultative status
with the United Nations Economic and Social Council, stated
that 71.4 percent of tribal children in Madhya Pradesh are
malnourished. The figures pose pressing questions to the state.
How has Madhya Pradesh really dealt with its tribal population
in the face of new development and wildlife conservation
projects?
Jami village is tucked deep inside the 940 sq km core zone of
Kanha National Park, one of India's largest tiger habitats. It is
the 28th village to be displaced from the park's core zone as part
of the nationwide Save the Tiger project. While the idea of
children like Umal and Sajanu being raised in the wild with tigers
on the prowl might appear dangerous, the Baigas disagree. The
jungle is their home and they have offered more protection to
the forest and wildlife than any forest department ever has. The
survival of the children is however under threat not by the 100-
odd tigers in the park, but because of hunger and severe
malnutrition.
At 2.4 kg, 15-day-old Umal is a low birthweight child. A boy
that old should weigh at least 3 kg, says the World Health
Organization (WHO). His brother Sajanu at 6.7 kg is also
103
severely underweight; the normal weight for a boy his age is 8.6
kg. The consequence is that while boys his age walk normally,
Sajanu continues to crawl on all fours. He was fed rotis with raw
chillies from the time he was 8-months old, since his pregnant
mother could no longer breast feed him. The most common
reasons why malnutrition occurs in these communities are child
marriages, frequent pregnancies, anaemic mothers and no
exclusive breastfeeding. During the first six months a child is to
have only breast milk. Not even water, says Dr Manohar
Agnani, health commissioner for Madhya Pradesh's National
Rural Health Mission. A reasoning that holds no water with the
impoverished Baigas.
The Baigas have been victims of relocation since the 1970s.
Thirty kilometers from Jami village is Ghursi Behra, a village that
was resettled 40 years ago. At the time, the government had
handed out 6.25 acres of unirrigated land per family as part of
the rehabilitation package. It was a raw deal most families were
allotted uncultivable land. For the Baigas who depended
extensively on the forest for their survival families cultivated 18
varieties of crops including rice, wheat, millets, corn, and pulses
life changed drastically. They now grow only one crop in a year.
Sporadic rainfall has affected soil productivity and hence crop
yields.
Baigas: Mostly live in Dindori, Mandla, Balaghat.
Population: 3,17,549
104
Percentage malnourished: 51%
Number of NRCs: 7
Yet another reason for hunger is the debt traps that families
often find themselves in. Rai Sinh, a father of four, typifies
migrant families in the region. Every year, for four months, he
migrates to Mumbai or Delhi to work at a factory for Rs 100 a
day. And yet it is better than the 10 to 12 days of labour that he
would get annually under the National Rural Employment
Guarantee Scheme. The money he sends home is used to pay off
debts with a marginal amount used to meet expenses. Two years
ago, Rai Sinh took a loan of Rs 3,000 from a local moneylender
at an exorbitant Rs 3,600 in annual interest alone. In two years,
he has managed to pay back Rs 2,000. It is a debt trap he will
probably never come out of. We have cut down on eating at
home just to repay the loan, he says stoically.
IN PATNI, a remote village in Satna district of Madhya
Pradesh, seven month old Sandeep is playing in the mud. He
finds a pumpkin seed in the dust and promptly puts it into his
mouth. A tiny piece of cow dung, a pebble, a fallen leaf and
finally the sole of a rubber slipper follow the pumpkin seed. For
Sandeep and the children in the 300- odd families in the village,
this is their daily breakfast spread.
As legend goes, Chitrakoot jungles or present day Satna is divine
land that once played host to Lord Ram for 14 years. The
winding mountainous terrain that the Mawasis call home today
105
bears no resemblance however to the lush jungles that Ram
chose as shelter. The Mawasis are forest dwellers from central
India, who were once hired as gatekeepers, watchmen and
orderlies of native rulers jobs that complemented their
robustness and physical strength. Today, poverty means that
there is no sign of the famed physical strength. Their primary
concern is how to keep their children alive with food that is
sparingly available.
As Sandeep drags himself on the floor, signs of malnutrition
are very visible wrinkled skin hangs loosely around his limbs.
Anand Shriwas, an activist with Adivasi Adhikar Manch (AAM),
an NGO that partners in the government's Right to Food
Campaign, talks of how most mothers leave for work soon after
childbirth. When a child is left in the care of a grandparent or an
older sibling, it is automatically fed much lesser. Malnutrition
starts right there, he says. If Sandeep isn't given proper care, he
will become the thirteenth child from Patni to die of
malnutrition in the last 20 months. Elsewhere, Chauti Bai is at
the grinding stone making a side dish to go with the coarse rotis
she has just prepared. It is a mixture of salt, coriander and green
chilli, all in equal proportions, to make a semi-dry powder. Ask
her about dal or vegetables and her response is telling, Last time
I cooked dal was for a celebration last monsoon. Last
monsoon, Chauti Bai's husband was assigned 10 days of road
work under the National Rural Employment Guarantee Scheme
(NREGS). Payments were doled at Rs 60 a day instead of the
106
guaranteed Rs 91. Now, Chauti Bai takes a loan each month just
to be able to afford their monthly ration quota.
A STATE HEALTH department report states that 4,954
children below six years of age have died in Satna in the last three
years. Activists believe that a majority of the children who die
are tribal children whose lives are claimed by malnutrition. The
last time the Mawasis were counted was in the 1981 census. They
numbered 11,012 0.1 percent of the tribal population in Madhya
Pradesh. Over the years, their numbers are feared to have
decreased; malnutrition proving to be a significant threat faced
by the Mawasis.
TWO-YEAR-OLD Ram Narayan Ramesh looks like he has a
beer belly. However, the reason his tummy is so swollen that his
shirt can't be done up is severe malnutrition. He has been sick
for more than a year. It is morning in Dabia, a village in Madhya
Pradesh's Khandwa district 200 km from Bhopal. Ram sits
quietly, playing listlessly with a plastic bucket he has no idea
that the sickle thrust into a fire nearby is for him.
It is time. Ram's shirt his only article of clothing is taken off him.
His mother holds him firmly on her lap, face upwards. A village
elder takes the sickle now glowing an angry yellow out of the
fire. A few villagers look on from a distance. Ram senses
something is wrong and starts to cry. His scream of pain and fear
can be heard right down the alley when the flat of the sickle
blade is gently, almost lovingly, brought down on his swollen
107
tummy. Again and again, it is pressed down until Ram has been
branded five times. A look of relief spreads across the faces of the
onlookers. The chachua, a ritual treatment for Ram's sickness, is
over.
Ram has kwashiorkor, a type of lifethreatening malnutrition. Its
symptoms are a bulging stomach, pale hands and hair,
listlessness and, ironically, an inability to digest food. He weighs
7.5 kg 25 percent less than normal for a boy his age. A few weeks
ago, he caught pneumonia and started eating even less than
usual. That's when his parents decided to put him through
chachua. Ram is part of the Korku tribe. Doggedly superstitious,
the Korku carry a frog from door to door asking for water to be
poured on it when rains fail; pregnant women are given drinking
water washed in their husbands' left legs to ensure easy
childbirth.
But Ram should never have gone through the chachua
anganwadis, or primary child care centres and crches, are
operating in Khandwa. Anganwadis should dispel such
superstitions through health awareness, but the workers rarely
do their job well. There's no monitoring of anganwadis' non-
food functions, say Seema and Prakash, founder-activists of
Spandan, an NGO working to eradicate malnutrition in
Khandwa.
Lakshmi Bai, a 28-year-old tribal, squats outside a Nutrition
Rehabilitation Centre (NRC) for acutely malnourished
108
children, housed in the district hospital. The centres give their
wards two weeks of nutritious food; their mothers are given Rs
200 towards travel expenses and Rs 60 daily towards lost wages.
It is 2 pm and there is no shelter from the searing sun. Akash, her
45-day-old child is so tiny that he is lost in the folds of her sari.
Wrinkled and wasted, he is too weak even to suckle.
Mother and child travelled three hours by bus and on foot to
reach here, but the doctors said Akash was not malnourished
enough to be admitted. That was two hours ago. These people
come here just for the money. The child looks fine to me, says
the annoyed officer in charge of the NRC. Akash weighs barely 2
kg when most children his age weigh over 4 kg.
Inside the 40-bed facility, 39 beds lie vacant.
POONAM VASKALE is the supervisor for 27 anganwadis in
Khandwa. An MA in sociology, the 29-year-old is paid by the
Ministry of Women and Child Development's Integrated
Scheme to ensure that no child or mother is left untreated. She
lives in Khandwa and drives her own car. According to
regulations, all reports of malnutrition are to be submitted to
her every month. Vaskale the only link between policy and
ground zero is charged with ensuring that severe cases are
admitted to the NRC and malnourished ones are better fed. It's
hard to visit these places with no transport and I'm too busy with
paperwork to do any real monitoring. This might be an
interesting calling for social workers. For me, it's just a job. Just
109
one of many entrance exams I wrote.
THE BROTHERS are named Sunny Deol and Bobby Deol. But
their similarity to the Bollywood Deol family ends there. Two-
year-old 'Bobbeed yol', as he is called, has straggly, light brown
hair and loose skin forms wrinkles on his stickthin limbs. He
squats listlessly on a cement parapet, watching older boys play.
His elder brother, five-year-old 'Sunneed yol', is malnourished
too, and sick with pneumonia for the nth time in his life. Bobby
and Sunny live in Naya Palpur, a resettled village in Sheopur
district about 450 km from Bhopal. Their entire village was
displaced from their original home in Kuno sanctuary.
The story has an odd twist. Gujarat's Gir sanctuary is the world's
last refuge for 400-odd endangered Asiatic lions. For decades,
however, Gujarat has stubbornly refused to transfer lions from
Gir to the Kuno sanctuary in neighbouring Madhya Pradesh. In
1995, Saharias from 24 villages were relocated to make way for
the lions that never arrived. Bobby Deol and Sunny Deol's family
cultivate mustard on five acres of dry land; the annual 20-
quintal yield translates into Rs 10,000. With the children being
sick with pneumonia or diarrhoea every other month, and
forced dependency on private doctors, the family struggles to
get by. The children are trapped in a vicious cycle. A weak
immune system that makes them prone to infection and
diseases that affect their ability to eat and digest food leaving
them more malnourished than before.
110
Traditional hunter gatherers from Rajasthan and Madhya
Pradesh, Saharias are classified as a primitive tribal community
in India. In 2008, the Madhya Pradesh Government set aside Rs
6.5 crore in a five-year plan for the development of Saharias. The
funds were marked for education, health, nutrition, drinking
water, agriculture, housing and employment. But Sheopur and
Shivpuri, districts dominated by Saharias, still have a
malnutrition record of 51 percent.
In Shivpuri district, Saharias are being displaced by two
upcoming projects a 1,60,000 hectare Madikheda dam and the
Madhav National Park where homes of Saharia families will
make way for tall grass for wild deer. The families have been
given stony dry land and Rs 50,000 for an acre of land, as
compensation for relocation.
Despite all odds, Shivpuri has got one thing right; the district has
nine Nutritional Rehabilitation Centres (NRCs) government
centres where malnourished children are taken care of one in
every block. For any family in the district, the nearest NRC is less
than an hour away. The NRCs here also don't follow the 14-day
admittance period like others across the state. Children stay till
they achieve a basic level of normalcy in weight and health.
And yet, controlling malnutrition in these parts isn't easy.
Constant displacement has meant that the Saharias are afforded
no opportunity to think beyond the immediate, an immediate
that unfortunately does not even include their children's lives.
111
 About the Author
ur cities and forests, our fields and villages
will burn for days. Rivers will turn to
poison. The air will become fire. The wind
will spread the flames. When everything there is to
burn has burned and the fires die, smoke will rise
"Annie Zaidi is the author of Known Turf: Bantering
with Bandits and Other True Tales.
She has worked as a journalist for a decade. Other essays
have been included in anthologies like India Shining,
India Changing and Women Changing India. A
collection of illustrated poems Crush was also published
in 2006.
The Bad Boys Guide to the Good Indian Girl (Zubaan), a
series of interlinked narratives written with Smriti
Ravindra, is forthcoming in 2011."

and shut out the sun. The earth will be enveloped

in darkness. There will be no day. Only
interminable night. Temperatures will drop to far
below freezing and nuclear winter will set in. Vishwasghat
Water will turn into toxic ice. Radioactive fallout
First, lift him up. Uproot
will sleep through the earth and contaminate
his little hut, stand it
groundwater. Most living things, animal and
on its side like a cot: then
vegetable, fish and fowl, will die. Only rats and
balance him on
cockroaches will breed and multiply and compete
the closed doors of his home.
with foraging, relict humans for what little food He will be astounded.
there is.
Tie both his hands behind his back
What shall we do then, those of us who are still and blindfold him with a marvellous lie,
alive? Burned and blind and bald and ill, carrying he will probably not say anything.
the cancerous carcasses of our children in our He will accept that for now
arms, where shall we go? What shall we eat? What this is all for the best.
shall we drink? What shall we breathe? - Kunwar Narain

-Arundhati Roy
from the book "The Algebra of Infinite Justice"

ISBN No. 978- 81- 921646-0- 1