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The Rediff Special/Sheela Bhatt

'For some, drought is the season to make money'

Banni, the dull brown area of Gujarat's Kutch region, has been experiencing unusual weather. It is windy in the afternoon, which leaves the area dry. And in the evening, it is terribly humid.

Gangaben Gorva is working the soft ground along the road. She braves the harsh sun because the work, employment provided by the state government in drought-hit areas, is her only hope of having dinner tonight.

The mild sandstorm of the last four days has made Gangaben's life even more difficult. She has registered her two minor sons for work as well. "Drought gives us the opportunity to earn. We don't regret this hardship," she says.

Gangaben is a resident of Bhirandiyara in Banni. Thirty years ago, Banni was Asia's biggest grassland with lush green grass covering an area of 1,315 square kilometres. The cattle here were among the most expensive in the market. Well-fed buffaloes, used to consuming 80kg grass daily, then cost more than Rs 50,000.

Things have changed dramatically since then. To contain the fast-expanding desert of the Rann of Kutch, the government planted prosopis julifeora, known here as gando baval or, sarcastically, Congressi baval. Large-scale plantation of baval turned the grasslands into a semi-desert.

These plants, which need no nurturing, have spread like the plague. From the borders of the Rann, these have eaten into the once-fertile lands, sucking up moisture from the soil and converting once lush grassland into an unrelenting desert.

Dr P P Patel, an expert on Kutch's water resources, says drought is not an unknown phenomenon here. A severe drought strikes at least thrice every decade while a semi-drought prevails for another three years at least.

The average rainfall in the region is only about 14 inches annually. Kutchis thus are used to droughts. Their clothes, food, folk songs, habits and social and economic traditions are woven around the scarcity of water.

But over the last few years, the situation has worsened. The deployment of the armed forces at the border, the free trade zone at Kandla, lignite mining and thermal power stations have all put pressure on the already scarce water resources.

With the groundwater level falling rapidly, there was little choice but to build dams in the region. And that has added to Banni's crisis. All the northbound rivers flowing into the grasslands have been blocked.

Bhirandiyara, Hodko, Dhordo and Udai were once thriving villages. The rich lifestyle of Banni was supported by their tradition of breeding cattle. But for the last two decades, water scarcity and the resultant scarcity of fodder has forced Banni's Jaet community to part with their animals, which in turn has reduced their economic power considerably.

Rahimtulla Haji Hasam is an embodiment of what Nobel laureate economist Amartya Sen has called "entitlement failure". He lives in Udai village. It was once thriving, with about 100 families, full of life and vitality. But today Rahimtulla's family lives alone on the barren land. His children Salma and Kader have lost the company of the neighbour's kid because of the drought.

Rahimtulla claims that around 100 families have left the village with hundreds of their buffaloes. He has been facing acute water shortage for the last seven days because the government's water tankers are yet to reach his village. For the last two years, there has been no electricity here. Without water, his 45 buffaloes are near death. The only hope for him is rain -- but that's still two months away.

"I have complained to the department concerned to provide water to my village. But nobody bothers. My village hardly exists to the outside world. I deeply regret that I am unable to feed my buffaloes. I am providing them daily 5kg of grass instead of the usual 60kg."

The Gujarat government provides subsidised grass at Rs 1 per kg, but that is nowhere enough. "Where is the grass in the government depot?" asks Rahimtulla.

Jumma Raishi Potra, another villager, says: "The talati [a minor local government official] holds the key. He registers our animals. He takes bribes to register. And the distribution of grass depends on the storekeeper in Bhuj. They will not release grass unless money changes hands.

"For some drought is the season to make money," he continues, "The government servants make easy money by taking our signature on, say, 100kg of grass and supplying only 50-60kg."

Banni's plight seems endless. Pipelines for drinking water are laid out, but the authorities are criminally negligent with the supply. "No one would dare to protest because we have to deal with the same corrupt authorities till the arrival of the monsoon," says Rahimtulla.

He and Jumma have prayed to Allah. The villagers have offered mi-namaaz, a special prayer. In Kutchi, 'mi' means rain. This, always offered in an open space, asks Allah "to forgive our sins and send rain".

"When the rain comes we will again offer a mi-namaaz to thank Allah," says Jumma.

The Rediff Specials

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