Malkangiri misery: where people have needs not desires

one of the monuments built by the maoist in memory of their slain comrades. this is not an unusual sight in Malkangiri

The road to Malkangiri gets bumpy as you get closer to the district. Even the local drivers find it difficult to drive on the crater riddled roads in this rocky region.. You get an idea of the conditions while travelling from Koraput to Malkangiri, about 123 km. It takes seven to eight hours to cover by public transport. The Odisha government’s attempts to provide traversable highways appear to have stopped at the doors of Malkangiri.

Sundown is also the signal for a lock-down as locals usually avoid travel for fear of the Maoists. During the day there are BSF jawans, alert, well-armed and equipped with the land mine detectors, patrolling on these roads. Maybe it isn’t one incident each day, but people don’t want to take chances. This is a conflict zone, the theatre of a continuing fight between Maoist rebels and the security forces.

Two years ago Malkangiri district, bordering Chhattisgarh and Andhra Pradesh, caught the national attention for a swift, successful Maoist onslaught. On February 17 2011, district collector R Vineel Kirishna and junior engineer Pabitra Majhi were kidnapped by Maoists in a part of Malkangiri that is cut-off from the world while they were returning from a remote village after some development-related work.

Never before had the state, in its decade long battle against left wing extremism, capitulated with such speed. Security operations were halted throughout Odisha within 24 hours of the abduction. Ganti Prasadam, a top Maoist leader from Andhra Pradesh, central committee member Ramakrishna alias RK’s wife Padma and Ishwari, Sarita and Gokul, who were accompanying her at the time of her arrest, were released from jail. The 30-year-old IAS officer walked free on February 24; a day after his subordinate reached home.

On February 12, 2012, four BSF personnel were killed in an ambush by CPI (Maoist). Commandant Jeevan Ram Khaswan, deputy commandant Rajesh Saran, assistant sub-inspector Jitendra Sahu and subedar Ashok Yadav were going to Chitrakonda from their camp at Balimela when their SUV was hit by a landmine. As they came out of the vehicle, the Maoists fired, killing the officers and injuring two accompanying troopers. Two civilians were injured in the crossfire. The next day (February 11) was the first phase of local body elections in Malkangiri.

One of the worst Maoist-affected districts of Odisha, Malkangiri is one of the 78 districts under the Integrated Action Plan (IAP), a flagship programme of the Union Home Ministry. This is part of its two-pronged approach to tackle left wing extremism, along the security and development matrices. Significantly Jal, Jungle, Zameen (water, forest,land) is not the issue here despite Maoists polemics, nor is Malkangiri an un-surveyed region beyond the ken of administration.

there are amusement parks and the district is has its own scenic beauty

However, it is one of the most backwards areas of the state, an arid region where lack of irrigation and power supply make farming difficult, but government neglect is probably the biggest obstacle. There is no industry or commerce to speak of. Schools hardly ever run normally as state-paid teachers skip classes for months together. Tubewells run dry, health centres are few and far between and electricity is a luxury even where it is available. Subsidised food grain and jobs under MGNREGS seldom reach the poor.

The result is a collapse of governance at the grass root level. The administration is nowhere to be seen in this region. Thus, decades of governmental apathy have virtually offered up this strategically critical area to the Maoists for their guerilla base. People sometimes have no choice but to surrender to the diktats of the Maoist who take advantage of the systemic failure. So who is to blame?

In non-urban areas the majority of the jobs are to be found in farming but the lack of proper irrigation in most parts of the district makes it an unviable option. Men mostly don’t have jobs here. The only opening is as a khalasi (contractual labour). In some blocks of Malkangiri women have come together to form Self Help Groups (SHGs).

Sano Takni, president of a Maa Santoshi SHG says, “There are about 30 families in my village in which eight or 10 men are khalasi. Others are unemployed. Some women have come together to form SHGs. But we are unable to make the most of it as most women are uneducated. There is a communication gap between SHGs and the NGOs that guide them.”

Sunita Macho, who runs another SHG, says, “Our activities range from tasks like vegetable selling or brick making. We don’t have too many options to earn a good income. We have 10 members at present in our SHG. They contribute `50 per month towards the SHG fund.”

Every block in Malkangiri holds a weekly haat (market) on which the locals depend for their daily needs. Most people sell vegetables at these haat, grown in their homes. Some people who are better off procure used garments from Andhra Pradesh to sell in the haat.

a tribal lady at the weekly haath

Pawan Kumar, a garment seller who roves about the district to sell garments in the weekly market of each block says, “I use to grow rice on my land but irrigation is such a problem that my crops were lost in two consecutive seasons. Finally I quit farming and got into this business. I buy used garments from Andhra Pradesh or Tamil Nadu once a month to sell in the weekly haat. The prices range from `30 to `100.”

Apart from bad roads the weak telecommunication system is another issue. In most parts of the district, the existing roads are hardly recognizable from the surrounding terrain. Some villages don’t have even this crude approximation of access. Local people have more than once blocked the roads to voice their anger against the administration but indifference reigns supreme.

Meanwhile, road projects worth `460 crore under the Public Works Department and `630 crore under the Pradhan Mantri Gram Sadak Yojna (PMGSY) are yet to take off. Ironically, chief minister Naveen Patnaik holds the portfolio which is supposed to maintain all major roads.
The lack of access in turn affects health care delivery in Malkangiri. The district has 36 health centres apart from the hospital in the district headquarters, but they are mostly non-functional as medical staff are not available.

“There isn’t any functional health centre in our village,” says Sunita Macho, aanganwadi worker and resident of Kudmulgumma block. We have to travel 70 km to Malkangiri headquarters for medical treatment. There is one maternity home, but supply of medicines is scarce. We buy medicines from shops.”
Pregnant women are unable to reach the nearest hospital owing to the potholed roads. “When we receive calls from women in labour, it takes us hours to get there because of the pathetic roads,” says the CDMO of Malkangiri.

“By the time we reach, in most cases she would have delivered the child or child or mother would have succumbed to some complications. In addition, the telecommunication system is down for most of the time, which creates a problem in receiving phone calls in urgent situations.”

Sixty per cent of the district’s population is tribal, and a staggering 80 per cent live under the poverty line. Though there is no shortage of money—the district gets generous funds under Central schemes and Backward Grant Commission and Integrated Action Plan (IAP)—Malkangiri fares below par on all development indicators.

Bonda is one of the tribes inhabitant in malkangiri.
a bonda lady

At least 71 panchayat representatives resigned en-masse in the district’s Kalimela block in April, in protest against the administration’s failure to provide basic amenities. Their demands were simple: irrigation, proper roads and clean drinking water, health care services, education, BPL cards for all the poor and proper distribution of free houses under the Indira Awas Yojna. The administration is deaf to their pleas. They have also for some time been demanding the immediate construction of an irrigation canal between Manyakanda and Karkatapalli,

The district has witnessed murders, kidnappings and destruction of public property in the last six months. Six people were killed, including a sarpanch. Besides, there have been several kidnappings by Maoists. On April 24, Maoists killed two of three persons in a group on suspicion that they were police informers. They were abducted on April 22 from Kiang panchayat under Mathili police limit.
In the latest incident in May this year, a group of armed Maoists raided Mahuapadar village, about 100 km from Malkangiri district headquarters, under Mathaili police limit. They abducted Budu Durua, sarpanch of Mahuapadar, a local trader identified as Buru Naik and another villager, Malsa Kalra.

Malkangiri has a history of left wing extremism since 1967, the time of the Naxalbari uprising in north Bengal. The Naxalites formed the Orissa State Coordination Committee (OSCC) in 1968 with D B M Patnaik as convenor. In 1969 the OSCC was dissolved and the ‘Revolutionary Regions’ of southern Odisha, Koraput and Ganjam merged with the Srikakulam Regional Committee of Andhra Pradesh.

In 2004, the Communist Party of India-Marxist Leninist (CPI-ML) merged with the People’s War Group (PWG) and Maoist Communist Centre (MCC) to form the CPI (Maoist), which set up the Andhra Odisha Border Special Zonal Committee (AOBSZC). Maoist violence has increased since then in Malkangiri. The AOBSZC covered the four northern districts of Andhra Pradesh – East Godavari, Vishkhapatnam, Vijayanagaram and Srikakulam along with five southern districts of Odisha–Malkangiri, Koraput, Rayagada, Gajapati and Ganjam.

Malkangiri is today under the influence of the AOBSZC headed by Akkiraju Hargopal alias Ramakrishna alias RK, the Dandakaranya Special Zonal Committee headed by Kadiri Satya Narayan alias Goppanna, Malkangiri Division headed by Gajarla Ravi alias Uday and Koraput Divisional Committee headed by Daya alias Chamala Kirshnamurthy.

Under AOBSZC is the Malkangiri Joint Divisional Committee, the East Vishakha Joint Divisional Committee and Koraput–Srikakulam Joint Divisional Committee. The Malkangiri Committee is further divided into the Podia Area Committee, the Kalimela Area Committee, Gumma Area Committee and Borpariguda Area Committee. Under each area committee functions the local operating squads.

Though the Maoists now virtually dominate the entire district, the “cut-off area” requires special mention. Some 150 villages of Kudmulugumma block have been separated by the rest of the block by the reservoir of the Balimela dam and this is the area worst affected by Maoists. Sandwiched between the Balimela reservoir on one side and the hill tract on the other, it is almost inaccessible.

Over 33,000 people live in this water-locked area, a bridge too far from the mainland. The reservoir that separates them from the mainland was first created by the Machkund Hydroelectric Dam in the 1940s and then by the Balimela Dam in the 1960s. It drowned 69 villages and cut off 150 villages. The reservoir covers 41,782 acres. It has a catchment area of 4,910 sq km. By a most cruel irony, even after 50 years, not all of these 150 villages have been electrified though a stone’s throw from the region’s largest power producer.

A few years ago the state floated a tender for a bridge over the Gurupriya River and handed over the work to Gammon India Limited. But Gammon did not start work citing the Maoist threat and opted out in 2008.
The construction of the 900-metre bridge has been in limbo since then. In its absence people from the cut-off area have to walk through the hills to reach Janbai Ghat for the twice-a-day launch. The irregular launches take almost the whole day to travel the 67 km from Balimela to villages on the other side of the Gurupriyar.

Between 1974 and 2007, six motor launches were introduced to ply to and from the cut-off area. Only two work now, a few months back there was only one. These launches can carry 60 but often have a hundred or more people. They break down frequently and people then wait for days on the mainland to get back home.
After reaching the banks the other side, the villagers have to take the rickety and jam-packed jeep which is the only way of getting to Chitrakonda for basic amenities including school and medical treatment. There’s no telecommunication in this area as it is so rugged there are no towers. The nearest place for telecommunication connectivity is Chitrakonda, but it is patchy at best.

Liza Poriyami, an aanganwadi worker who commutes to Chitrakonda for her job said, “Our village is cut off in the literal sense. There is no way back after the launch ferries out in the evening. We depend on the once a week Chitrakonda haat for our needs. In an emergency, there is no doctor in these villages nor can we make a call to inform someone for help.”

Rasmita Tangul, the panchayat representative of Badpara village of the cut-off area says, “Some people came to our village months ago for a BPL survey but we have not received the card.” Asked if she was aware of government schemes she retorted, “We keep hearing about schemes but have not received any benefits yet.”

To add to their woes, the area is one of the strongholds of extremists in the district. Raghu Khara (name changed) an unemployed young man of Badpara village, is resigned. He initially refuses to talk when asked about the influence of Maoists in the village. Later, he says, reluctantly, “Farming is almost impossible here owing to lack of irrigation. Adding to that, from time to time we are bound to give whatever they ask.

“Once they took me because I could not give them my tractor to commute to Andhra Pradesh. I had no fuel. They let me go later because the area commander knew me. They allowed me to leave after a warning.”
Akhilesh Singh, SP, Malkangiri, states, “At present, Malkangiri has 11 police stations, two in cut-off area. Of the other nine, six will become model police stations after a makeover. Modernisation of the remaining three police stations will also begin soon.”

But the locals feel neither safer nor reassured by the numbers. Sanyasi Burudi (name changed) of Badpara-II, another cut-off village, says, “The presence of the security force camp here makes no difference. They close the doors and windows, lock themselves inside and stay indoors always. The Maoists know us by our faces. We can’t seek help from security forces even if we want.”

“A few months ago, before the BSF camp was built on the other side of the Balimela reservoir, the situation was worse here. A family comprising four men would be compelled to give away three to become their cadre. To save themselves from that situation the men would marry early to have separate families,” says Burudi sighing.

Before the BSF camp was built at Janbai Ghat, a 40-feet high Maoist memorial stood as a mark of their authority in the area. The memorial, one of the largest in the district, was built in memory of central committee member Sudhakar Patel Reddy and state committee member Venkataiya who were killed in an alleged encounter on May 24, 2009, in Warangal district, Andhra Pradesh. When the BSF camp was built, they repainted the memorial from red to the tricolour and established a sentry post.

The BSF was first deployed in Malkangiri in April 2010. Three units --93bn in Malkangiri district, 137bn in MV79 village and 107bn in Balimela were the first to be deployed. A BSF jawan said, “We entered Malkangiri with lot of uncertainty. The deployment coincided with the most violent period when other security forces were receiving their worst drubbing in anti-naxal operations.”

“Initially deployment was along the state highways to secure the urban areas. BSF had to deal with issues like state administration being ill-equipped to understand the tactical nature of deployment. Some took advantage of the construction that was meant for BSF and it was seen as an impediment in their wealth generation. But the situation is clearer and we are more confident now,” he added.

Many villagers are sceptical of all this activity. They expect little from it. “Most people here have to be pro-Maoist. Some are scared and some support them because of sheer social upper hand,” says Shova (name changed), an Assistant Revenue Officer.

The Maoist support base in Malkangiri is not confined to any particular tribe or area, though the Koya tribe is probably the leader in this respect. The other two tribes in the district–the Bonda and the Didayi have generally kept their distance from the Maoists. Nonetheless there have been indications of Maoists efforts to make inroads among the Bonda.

Two Bonda youths, Chandra Kichipadia and Arjun Dora were arrested in April and November 2010 in connection with the Govindapallu Ghat road landmine blasts of April 2010 in which 11 SOG personnel were killed. Besides, Maoist activities are on the rise in the Ankadeli, Machkund, Govindapalli and Lamtaput areas. These are the places in Malkangiri where the Bondas have their presence.

The Maoists have advanced their influence essentially in the areas of non-governance, where even the security forces have only a marginal, bordering on ineffective, influence. Life and  living condition tell their tale of state apathy.

a Bonda lady

Somi Mari, sarpanch of Salimalikunda village puts it all together. “Why should we trust anybody from government? We live without basic amenities here. There are no schools, no hospitals, no clean water facility or jobs for our youth. Neither money nor security forces, individually or together, can win the hearts or minds of the people. The money is not spent on development, and all people see is large numbers of heavily armed personnel.”

The state of this district is the result of colossal administrative indifference and callousness. Malkangiri is a story of the people who wait. They wait for the public health centres to open closer to their village so that women don’t die in childbirth, they wait for electricity poles to come to their village, they wait for a proper road to their village. They wait for all the promises of basic amenities. In this forgotten land, the people wait for the day when government finally wakes up to their most desperate needs.

Hiru Khara (name changed), a boy of 17 echoes the despair of Malkangiri . “I wanted to join the state police force. I made it through the entrance examination. I was the one of the very few boys in my village to have the chance to study beyond class ten. But as the Maoists came to know they threatened to kill my entire family if I joined. So I work as a khalasi. I earn around `200 a month. I had different dreams for myself. My family did not want this for me, but now do I have a future?”

Ghosts of the asbestos mines – a tale of doomed villages in toxic land

Women can been seen dressed in widow’s garments, contaminated hill side serve as playground for children, barren fields tell of the toxic legacy – Roro, 20 kms from Chaibasa West Singhbhum, here there is no leafy greens or humming streams!


The Roro hills is infamous for an abandoned asbestos mine. The place reeks of tell-tale signs of careless closure and the 14 villages that surround the mountains. The only thing that can be seen here is toxic waste – the left overs of 70 years of mining, first by small, local players and then by big ones like Birla.
The hills here were once mined both for asbestos and chromium. It is estimated that nearly 0.7 million tons of asbestos waste mixed with chromite-bearing host rock lies scattered here. In 25 years no study has been conducted to assess the fate of this hazardous waste dumped improperly on top of Roro hills. The waste material extends several meters down slope spreading into the paddy fields on the foothills of Roro. About 40 centimeters of thick silty waste of crushed rocks is spread over the paddy fields and poisoning the local residents.

There are ex miners who have died before their times. “So many people have died before they turned forty,’ says Birsingh Sondi, Sahayak Munda (Deputy Chief) of Roro, who points to his neighbour’s house, “There lived Mangalsingh Sondi, who was 25 when he died.”

Dumbi Boipai, an ex-miner who feels recurring pain in his chest remembers his fellow miners who all are dead, he mumbles first to himself and then aloud, “Pooliya Sondi, Rohto Gop, Vijay Singh Sondi, Rahto Samadh,” and he suddenly refuses to speak as he takes a gasp. Some like Mukund Sundi are barely alive. His young wife is helpless, resigned, refusing to talk.  “I worked in the crusher, where they produced asbestos,” says Mukund Sundi. They use to pay us Rs 7 a day.” Some of his symptoms match TB, but doctors can't pinpoint his illness and so they offer no cure.

There has been no assistance for Mangal Sundi from his former employers. “Koi nahi aya madad ke liye. Koi mera ilaj bhi nahi karwata.” (No one ever has come up for help. No one got me treated.), Sundi says in a whisper.

About 7 million tons of toxic waste is not exactly a playground for children but the children of Roro come here to scavenge for iron scraps that are sold for Rs 12 per kilogram. The slope of the hill which is now a powdery slide is used as a giant slide by the children. However, what they don't know is that such naked exposure to asbestos dust could result in serious diseases like asbestosis, asthma and even cancer.
There are many victims of Roro and the 14 surrounding villages who recall days of reckless mining operations and deplorable conditions of miners. Persistent cough, haemoptysis, pain in chest while breathing is common health complaints.

As per Jun Sunwai reports of a public hearing by Jharkhand Organisation for Human Rights (JOHAR) conducted in 2003, the testimonials of villagers say:

Jeevan Tubid, 50, is an ex underground mine worker who lost his leg while working in the underground mines of Roro as a loader. He has almost lost his eye sight and has intense pain in his lower back. No compensation has been paid yet to him by the mining company.

Pandu Pradhan, 45, almost lost his eye sight while working as a Timber man in the underground mines of Roro. The company gave him spectacles but no compensation.

Lakhan Doraiburu, 70, heavy equipment fell on his leg while working in the plant. No proper treatment was given to him for his injury. He still has lot of pain in his legs. He recalls workers in milling plant were given jaggery to eat. Many of his co-workers in the plant died while working or after the closure of the mines. Workers died of chest pain and spitting blood. No count of how many workers died and of what disease. No medical tests were done on workers while they were employed. No information was divulged on the medical conditions of the workers who were examined by the company doctors.

The asbestos mines were closed down in 1983 after Hyderabad Asbestos Cement Products Ltd. (now known as Hyderabad Industries Limited of the CK Birla group) decided that they were no longer profitable. If there is one example of sheer corporate and Government negligence, it is this.

“Workers who are exposed to asbestos and they are suffering from asbestos-related diseases like asbestosis and mesothalamia. Doctors call them TB patients, as they want to save their employers from giving any compensation,” claims Gopal Krishna, coordinator of the Ban Asbestos India (BANI) Network, a NGO working against the use and production of asbestos nationwide.

More than 40 countries have banned chrysotile asbestos, which finds use as insulation material, and in pipes and roofing.   Over 100 corporations in Europe and the US have gone bankrupt paying liability to asbestos victims and their families. The 4500 crores turnover industry in India, companies’ claim that the kind of asbestos used in India is not carcinogenic, even as all forms of asbestos are classified as carcinogenic by the World Health Organization (WHO), the International Labour Organization (ILO) and the International Agency for Research on Cancer (IARC). It is mentioned in a report by IARC that was published in 2010 - ‘Epidemiological evidence has increasingly shown an association of all forms of asbestos with an increased risk of lung cancer and mesothelioma.’

Even today, as per law, especially as per section 22 of the Air (Prevention and Control of Pollution) Act 1981, all asbestos mines have to be closed. The Hyderabad Industry Limited of the CK Birla Group did not close their mines at Roro village at Chaibasa, Jharkhand. The asbestos fibres that are blown into the wind, that seep into the fields and rivers, still exist 29 years after the mines shut down.

In his letter to the Union Minister of mines Gopal Krishna writes, “I wish to inform you that due to growing awareness about hazards of asbestos, villagers of Marwan Block in Muzaffarpur, Bihar have stopped the construction of an asbestos based cement plant. Bihar State Human Rights Commission announced that the plant has been wound up.  Kerala State Human Rights Commission has banned use of asbestos roofs in schools, hospitals and public building and has held that exposing citizens to exposure of asbestos fibers and asbestos roofs is a violation of their human rights. National Human Rights Commission has held that even inmates cannot be kept under asbestos roofs in the National Capital Territory of Delhi.”

He adds in the letter, “I submit that some 60 countries have banned asbestos of all kinds including Asian countries like Japan and South Korea. Human biology of people is same everywhere. Indian workers and consumers must be protected from exposure to carcinogenic fibers.”

However for villagers of Roro and other 14 villages surrounding the hills, it has been 29 long years of wait and they are still counting. As generations pass, many die before their time owing to the daily dose of asbestos. Life of a miner matter a little, they die unaccounted and unprotected.