SHATTERED LIE THEIR DREAMS AND HOPES

Tazeem Akhter

Girls in a village near Poonch in J&K rarely get to study beyond the ninth standard, while the boys have all the opportunities for higher studies, writes Tazeem Akhter



On the dusky village roads in Batal Kote, in Loran region of Mandi tehsil, a two-hour drive from the border district Poonch, 250km from Jammu,when one starts observing the milieu, the feeling of having reached a bygone era is inevitable. A kuccha raasta leads to a double storey wooden house, a typical structure for this kind of geography and climate — wooden floorings, wooden staircases and wooden pillars. Before one comes to terms with the beauty of this wooden house, questions regarding its residents start popping up in the mind.

As if in answer, a lady in her mid fifties, Zaibun Noor, steps out from the house and offers a warm welcome. While opening the door of the baithak (drawing room), she informs us that a total of 19 members live in this house and they own much of the agricultural land around. Of her three sons, one works in the police department and has two wives. The second son, a matriculate who is in the money-lending business, has an 18 year-old wife who is already a mother of two. As she gets involved in the animated conversation, it is difficult to figure whether she was happy or sad, for a discussion on education leaves everyone in shock — none of the women members of the family was ever enrolled in school. Until the recent generation of the grandchildren, that is.

But there's a rider here too: The male grandchildren are enrolled in Kerala School (a reference to Christian Missionary schools that provide quality education) in Loran while the female grandchildren had to settle with the Government middle school in Batal Kote. “Kudiyan dusre ghar jana” (girls will be married off), said the grandmother of the little children, explaining why they are not interested in educating the girls of the family. The trend is similar across the village.

A few metres away from this wooden house are a group of four to five girls hidden by a water-tank. Seeing them unburdening a huge bundle of wood each, cut and carried on their heads through the nearby forests, it is evident that they are exhausted. Striking up a conversation with girls in such remote areas always requires a certain amount of impudence, but as the conversation starts off, their brutally frank talk and disarmingly gentle smiles quivering across their shy faces leave one spellbound. A sense of satisfaction and pride is palpable when the girls share that they do attend school — two of them are Class 10 students and three are in Class 9.

These young girls work really hard, literally, for their education. After helping in household chores every morning, they attend school, and after school, they head to the forests to gather firewood, carrying the huge bundles home on their heads. Done with that back-breaking work, they begin helping with the cooking for dinner. They study once the household is asleep — all this, despite knowing only too well that they will not be given a chance to study after Class 10.

This is not unusual. The recently released Annual Status of Education Report shows that the proportion of girls (age 11 to 14) not in school in Jammu & Kashmir has dropped encouragingly from 8.3 per cent in 2006 to 3.7 per cent in 2011, but rose again to 5 per cent in 2012. The proportion of girls in the higher age group (age 15 to 16) not attending school was a substantially higher 13.9 per cent in 2012; a telling comment on parents who hold back their daughters from school, intending to marry them off instead. “It is impossible to study after Class 10. Our parents marry us off as soon as we have our exam results in hands”, said Ishrat, one of the five girls, breaking into a shy giggle.

The current statistics, however, do not take away the zeal these girls have for studying further. Even though the idea of girls studying in college sounds incredibly bizarre to them initially, they are ready to put in every possible effort to study harder and, with good grades, try and convince their parents to allow them to study further. This is a distant dream they wish to fulfill. But that will require a change in the mindset of their parents in particular and society in general.

Charkha Features
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Custodian of culture

DEVLAL NARETI

In the ongoing protracted battle between the state and the Naxals in the central part of India, the dominant tribal population of this region has become the most prominent victim. Against this background, 240 km away from Raipur — in Damkasa village near Durgkondal block in Kanker district — 70-year-old retired teacher Shiv Singh Anchla has dedicated his post-retirement life to the conservation and promotion of the Gondi language and culture.








The Gond community, to which Mr. Anchla belongs to, is one of the largest tribes in Chhattisgarh. In the forested hills of the Bastar region in south Chhattisgarh, the Gonds have been significantly known for their rich culture. In recent years though, the vibrant colours of this rich civilisation have been fading away.

The Gond community, like other adivasi communities, is woven into a symbiotic relationship with the environment. They worship nature that, in turn, helps these indigenous communities sustain their socio-economic and cultural lives. Their care and concern for their natural heritage is well reflected in their customs wherein every single community is entrusted with protecting one of the rare trees and animals and no one is allowed to harm them at any cost. This way, the balance between man and his environment is maintained. The advent of external factors, however, has weakened the sanctity of such practices.




“Adivasis have always been environment-friendly because they believe that trees, stones and forests are their God. Alarmingly, in the last few years, trees are being cut ruthlessly, indicating that adivasis are forgetting the importance of their life-giving forests,” says Mr. Anchla worriedly. To restore respect for Mother Nature, he has established Jango Raitaar Vidya Ketul after the name of a local deity Jango Raitaar, revered as the goddess of language of the Gond tribe. Set in five acres of land donated by Mr. Anchla himself, this nature park is home to rare herbs, plants and trees which otherwise are likely to become extinct with few even recognising the loss.

Mr. Anchla is also planning to establish an International Divya Gyan Research Institute and Gyan Mani Shiksha Dweep Vilakshan Vidyalaya. This institute will train people who share the common interest of exploring the history of local adivasi culture, their deities and their unique relationship with forests.

This visibly-determined old man sensed the looming threat during his teaching days and began to share with his students the intricacies of their natural as well as cultural heritage to ensure that the next generation takes responsibility for the cultural wealth they have inherited from their forefathers. Not an opposer of contemporary education system, he believes that every form of education that develops or increases the knowledge of mankind should be promoted. He maintains that this should not, however, be at the cost of sacrificing their traditional culture.

To save the traditional Ghotul practices, the Gondi language and the tribe’s festivals, he organised a Rath Yatra in November last year to make people aware of their culture and join hands for its preservation.

Leading a humble life, Mr. Anchla is also the religious head of the Gond tribe in Chhattisgarh. Besides, he is a skilled medical practitioner (vaid) and successfully treats many ailments using natural herbs.

(Charkha Features)

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Results - "Sanjoy Ghose Media Fellowship 2013 - Ladakh"

Charkha announces Results for the “Sanjoy Ghose Media Fellowship 2013” for highlighting development issues of women in Ladakh:

Azra Khatoon - Women as Flag-bearers of Change in Ladakh– individual women or groups of women, who fought structural, social norms in this tough geographical area to bring development and positive changes, be it in the field of education, economy, or saving their natural or cultural heritage.
and
Gizala Shabnam - “Contemporary Challenges of Women in Ladakh” – a view of the evolving nature of the socio-economic, geographic and cultural challenges faced by women in Ladakh. This can include how age old challenges reflect themselves differently in today's world.

Congratulations!

Story from Borderland

The Road to nowwhere


Ashutosh Sharma



The slight figure of a young woman, clutching an ailing child to her, moves steadily through the twisted paths and treacherous footholds carved in the sheer rock faces of the towering snow-covered mountains. She knows that the slightest mistake can cost a life, but Zahida Bi has embarked on this foot-journey from her village Murrah, located in the Peer Panjal range in Poonch district of Jammu and Kashmir, to reach a government hospital at Bufliaz in Surankote Tehsil, about 16 km away, to get her child treated. It will be dusk by the time she reaches the base, so she will take refuge at a relative’s place for the night. After the visit to the hospital in the morning, she will have to undertake this arduous journey again.








“In the absence of a primary health center in our far-off village, we are completely dependent on the basic health care services available in Surankote or Poonch. Even to board a passenger vehicle, we have to walk continuously for over six hours as there are no roads, virtually disconnecting us from the rest of the world,” rues Zahida Bi.

The border district of Poonch in the Jammu region has only 120 health facilities catering to 189 panchayats. The numbers may seem adequate for the scanty population they cover collectively, but the poor quality of service at these centers is further marred by their distance from the people who reside in villages in the remote interiors.

According to the 2011 Census, Poonch has a population of about 476,820, over 90 per cent of which resides in villages. Villages like Murrah are tucked away in the higher reaches and remain cut off during the winters due to the absence of roads. On the other hand, there are at least 16 road projects, conceived under Pradhan Mantri Gram Sadak Yojana (PMGSY), on which work has been abandoned half way for various reasons. In 2006, the Ministry of Panchayati Raj categorised Poonch as one of the country's 250 most backward districts. It is one of the three districts in Jammu and Kashmir currently receiving funds from the Backward Regions Grant Fund Programme.

The intense geographical challenges, coupled with the conspicuous absence of basic amenities, public infrastructure and administrative inertia, throw up tales of extreme hardship faced by villagers every day. Poverty is the primary issue in such villages where militants once ruled the roost and did not allow any development work. Though militancy has decreased considerably, the villagers are yet to taste the fruits of economic development.

Children are the worst-affected. Besides arranging for firewood and fodder from the nearby forests, they have to ferry eatables and dry rations to their homes as the area does not have an outlet of the Consumer Affairs and Public Distribution (CAPD) Department. Their problems are further compounded during the rains and flash floods.

Haji Mohammad Aslam, Sarpanch of Murrah, says, “We paid heavy human costs during the years of militancy. Though peace has been restored, the promises of development in this backward village are yet to be fulfilled. A large majority of village youth are doing menial jobs in big cities simply because there are no employment opportunities in Poonch. The government has even failed to provide us basic amenities like safe drinking water.”

“Without a road, the government cannot begin or accelerate developmental work here,” opines Ghulam Din, a local resident, adding that between Kalaali and Murrah, two concrete pillars meant for a bridge stand tall at Laadian. The construction work was reportedly suspended halfway due to unknown reasons. “In the absence of the bridge, many people, especially children, have lost their lives in flash floods,” he says and regrets, “We have made many representations to the Roads and Buildings Department but to no avail. The bridge needs to be spanned immediately. It will ensure supply of all essentials to our villages through mules round the year.”

According to villagers, agriculture and livestock are their mainstay but the concerned departments are doing precious little to help them in these sectors.

When these issues were brought to the notice of the then District Deputy Commissioner, Ajeet Kumar Sahu, he said, “The area remained out of development focus due to militancy and geographical challenges. I have recently sent a proposal to the government listing the issues of this particular village among the top ten development issues being faced by the district.”

Charkha Features

Going Backwards


Harvesting food security

BABA MAYARAM






Practising traditional utera methods has helped Dhadaw farmers keep away the harmful aspects of chemical farming

At the foothills of Datla mountain of Satpuda Valley in the Hoshangabad district of Madhya Pradesh is located the picturesque village of Dhadaw. Located on the banks of Dudhi River that also defines the boundary of the district, Dhadaw falls in the district’s forest belt. Within the periphery of this village lies a world that has efficiently maintained the essence of traditional agricultural practices — a remarkable feat at a time when farmers are increasingly quitting this occupation across the country.

Known as utera cropping, six to seven types of crops are sown simultaneously in this type of cultivation. For example, seeds of urad, jawar, paddy, tilli, tuar, sama and kodo are mixed and then sown collectively. Sown in June, the crop is harvested at different times; urad is harvested first, followed by paddy, jawar and tuar.

Sixty-year-old Ganpat, busy harvesting the crop with his hansiya (reaping hook), shares: “Almost nothing or very less money is required for utera farming. With the combination of our hard work, labour of the bullocks and some help from the monsoon, our crops get ready for harvesting. Every year, we save some seeds for the following season, saving the cost of buying seeds. The bullocks also give us fertilisers which, in turn, nourish our soil.”

As he scales the scaffold to keep parrots and other birds away from the chickpea crop, he explains the significance of utera cropping in their lives. “Utera gives us the complete meal — dal, rice, wheat and oil. It fulfils our yearly requirements of pulses, oil seeds, and cereals. It gives cereals for human beings, stem, straw and fodder for animals, bio-fertilisers for soil and bio pesticide for crops.”

According to the District Gazetteer, people of this region earlier followed Milwan (mixed) farming, in which legumes are sown to maintain the fertility of the soil. Mixed crops are sown in various ratios. Birra was sown by mixing wheat and chana; tiwda and chana were also mixed; cotton, sesame, kodo and jawar were sown together.

Another benefit of sowing legumes along with other crops is that it lowers the need for additional nitrogen-based inputs. Farmers believe that if one crop fails in utera, other crops compensate for it — a sharp contrast to cash crops, where farmers suffer intensely if the crop is destroyed by insects or pests, or even by natural forces. In 2011, soybean crops were completely destroyed and three farmers committed suicide in Hoshangabad.

Ramkhyali Thakur, a farmer from Dhadaw, considers this cropping method to be better than chemical farming because of its low dependence on money and chemical fertilisers. Since every crop gets ready at different interval, family members usually suffice to carry out the harvest. This saves their limited financial resources that would otherwise go into hiring expensive farm labourers and harvester machines. In all, this traditional form of agricultural practice makes a multi-faceted contribution to food security, preservation of soil, live stock breeding, bio-diversity and environmental concerns.

A few years ago, every household had a kitchen garden in which utera crops were sown. Many green vegetables, seasonal fruits and cereals would be planted in the backyard of every house. Bhata, tomatoes, green chilli, ginger, ladies finger, semi (ballar), corn, jawar, among others, were planted. Munga, lemon, berries and guava from these kitchen gardens were a good source of nutrition for the children. Water from household chores would be recycled to feed these crops. Pity, this practice is limited to merely a handful of families.

The livelihood of the people of Dhadaw strongly depends on the traditional utera method and on the forest. The farm and forest duo gifts them everything they require for their daily lives. It also preserves biodiversity by preserving soil, water and the environment.

Utera and mixed cropping are not the only methods of traditional farming that have the potential to liberate us from the shackles of chemical farming. There are several other methods of traditional farming, depending on the climatic and environment conditions of a particular region; satgajra (seven grains), navdanya (nine pulses), and barah anaja (twelve cereals) are various forms of agricultural practices. Each has its own benefits: they resist pest invasion, help increase natural fertilisation of the soil and provides food security.

According to Chandrabhan, an ardent advocate of utera farming, “Chemical farming is burning the soil. It is killing the micro-organisms which help make the soil more fertile. Our fellow farmers need to get rid of their dependency on chemicals. It is up to us to turn the tide.”

(Charkha Features)