When women become ‘witches’

Saira Kurup, TNN, 7 February 2010, 02:21am IST  , TIMES OF INDIA

RANCHI: On January 2, 2010, three masked men barged into Pinki’s home in Tapodana village, Ranchi district and killed her parents on the charges of practicing witchcraft Pinki , 14 and her younger brother are now in hiding because she too has been named as a dayan or witch. Sushila Devi, 45, tries to hide the injury on her head with her sari pallu as she describes how she and four other village women, mostly widows, were beaten, paraded naked and forced to eat excreta in Patharghatia village in Deoghar district, Jharkhand on October 17, 2009.  They were accused of being dayans. “There were at least 10,000 villagers watching when these women were beaten up. Word had spread that the dayans would be dancing,” says Deepak Kumar Deo, legal trainer with an NGO, Rural Litigation and Entitlement Kendra (RLEK) in Ranchi.

A witch doctor (ojha) ‘treating’ a woman accused of being a witch; Sagrina Bibi (left) and Gulinoor Bibi, who were assaulted for being ‘dayans’ in October last year

Pinky and Sushila are lucky to be alive because scores of women are killed on charges of witchcraft in states like Assam, Bihar, Jharkhand and West Bengal annually. Between 2001 and 2008, 452 women were killed in Jharkhand, according to a report by an NGO, Association for Social and Human Activities. Jharkhand’s economic backwardness and a low literacy rate of 53.6% (38.9% among women) make for a fertile environment that breeds superstition, illiteracy and violence against women. Even the death of an animal becomes a trigger for condemning some poor woman as a dayan. Often, it’s an excuse to grab property or settle scores with someone.

Although Jharkhand has a witchcraft prevention Act — under which the maximum punishment is a one-year imprisonment, its implementation is still awaited. RLEK chairman Avdhash Kaushal says, “Lack of access to justice is the main problem. But there are many other barriers too, such as of distance, of attitude towards rural people.”  Keeping that in mind, RLEK organized a legal literacy programme in a village near Ranchi last month, during which hundreds of women were able to voice their grievances to Supreme Court and High Court judges, state bureaucrats, and officials of the National Legal Services Authority (Nalsa). Reacting to Pinky’s and Sushila’s cases, HC Justice M Y Eqbal said while witch-hunting should invoke stricter penalties, it is more important to spread awareness.

But economic insecurity is also a tough enemy. Many women at the village meet complained about not receiving their widow pensions and not getting work under NREGA. Those who do get work said they are paid less than men. Despite their trauma, Safina Bibi, Sagrina Bibi, Gulinoor Bibi and Majidan Bibi — the other four women who were assaulted along with Sushila Devi – are more concerned about getting a “lal card” or the ration card. However, there’s now a glimmer of hope, with Union woman and child development minister Krishna Tirath saying recently that there would soon be a law against witch-hunting. But would that ensure justice for the likes of Pinki and Sushila? That, unfortunately, still seems a long way off.

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/home/sunday-toi/view-from-venus/When-women-become-witches/articleshow/5543904.cms

Inclusive growth: the missing ingredient in Bihar’s success story

Shireen Vakil Miller in THE HINDU FEBRUARY 4, 2010

Despite staggering economic growth, Bihar has one of the highest rates of child mortality in India.

Bihar has been in the news recently for recording an average growth rate of 11.3 per cent for the period between 2004 and 2009. Much has been written about the quality of governance and the improved state of roads. This is indeed commendable, and no mean achievement, for a State that had virtually become a “development outcast”. I was pleasantly surprised to note on a recent trip to Bihar the great improvement made in providing more schools and notably, a huge effort to tackle the complex issue of child labour.

The script for Bihar’s success story is incomplete, however. The State has the dubious distinction of having one of the highest rates of child mortality in India. Out of every 1,000 children born in Bihar, 85 will not live to see their fifth birthday (according to the third National Family Health Survey). The deaths of a third of these children are associated with malnutrition. In fact, the Citizen’s Alliance against Malnutrition states that over 58 per cent of children in Bihar are malnourished. And the State, despite spending crores of rupees on improving the state of the roads, has failed to utilise the funds allotted to it under the Integrated Child Development Services (ICDS) which is mandated with tackling under-nutrition among children under six years of age.

MALNUTRITION AND CHILD MORTALITY

(The anomaly between impressive economic growth and appalling rates of malnourishment is not peculiar to Bihar.The country as a whole records malnourishment rates that do not reflect the economic growth. A scene in Madhya Pradesh.)

The anomaly between impressive economic growth and the appalling rates of child mortality and underweight children is not peculiar to Bihar. The country as a whole has recorded an impressive economic growth (real GDP per capita grew by 3.95 per cent per year between 1980 and 2005). Yet, the percentage of underweight children under 3 went down by just six per cent from 52 per cent in 1992-93 to 46 per cent in 2005-06. Evidence suggests that for every 3-4 per cent increase in per capita income, underweight rate should decline by one per cent. This has not been the case in India.

At the present rate of progress, India will reach the Millennium Development Goal 1 target on eradicating extreme hunger only by 2043.

As we move to greater economic growth rates, the challenge we face is to make this growth more inclusive, ensuring that all of us, especially the most disadvantaged and marginalised groups benefit from this economic growth. Children especially must see the benefits of this growth now if we are to sustain economic growth in the future.

The reality in 2010 is that almost 50 per cent of India’s children are malnourished. In the nation’s capital alone, 42.2 per cent of children under five are stunted and a shocking 26.1 per cent are underweight.

Malnutrition stunts physical, mental and cognitive growth and makes children more susceptible to respiratory and diarrhoeal illnesses. Malnourished children are more likely to die as a result of common and easily preventable childhood diseases than those who are adequately nourished. According to a UNICEF report, 1.95 million children below the age of five die annually in India mainly from preventable causes that are directly or indirectly attributable to malnutrition. The children who survive the ravages of malnutrition are more vulnerable to infection, do not reach their full height potential and experience impaired cognitive development. This means they do less well in school, earn less as adults and contribute less to the economy.

While we have impressive policies and schemes such as the ICDS, these have not made a significant impact. The ICDS needs to reach the poorest and most excluded groups who need it the most, both in rural and urban areas. This is not the case however. Only 28.4 pc of children under six are able to access services provided by an anganwadi centre. Just in Delhi alone, for example, only 8.4 per cent of children under six have accessed an anganwadi centre.

India spends less than five per cent of the annual budget on children. The 2009-10 Union Budget earmarked 4.15 per cent on children! This, in a country where 447 million people are aged 18 and below! Of the total budgetary allocation on children, a mere 11.1 per cent is for child health schemes.

It is the poorest children in the poorest communities who experience much more malnutrition than their better-off counterparts. And yet, existing national nutrition plans barely tackle the socio-economic causes of the problem.

There is an assumption that economic growth will solve the problem of malnutrition but, in fact, economic growth often fails to reduce poverty. The economic causes of malnutrition are set to deepen: food prices remain high and are expected to stay high, the economic downturn is pushing millions more into poverty and climate change is causing an increasing number of extreme climatic events that devastate livelihoods and lead to destitution.

We have good policies and schemes in place. The time has come to implement these and more importantly, monitor their implementation. A task group on nutrition was set up by the Prime Minister’s Office in October 2008 but it appears that it has not yet met. We know which districts are hardest hit, we need to reach those districts and build the capacities of local health and nutrition workers to deliver effective services. We need to ensure greater convergence between the ministries that have responsibility for tackling malnutrition so that we have integrated plans at the district and panchayat levels to reach the communities that need it the most.

In the third century BC, Patna was the greatest city in India; the seat of the Maurya dynasty with Emperor Ashoka at the helm. Ashoka was arguably one of our greatest and most forward thinking leaders, who believed in inclusive development. If Bihar pays attention to social development ensuring that its economic growth benefits its most excluded groups and minorities, it may yet again lead the way for other States.

(Shireen Vakil Miller is Director of Advocacy with Save the Children)

http://www.hindu.com/2010/02/04/stories/2010020455120900.htm

Farm suicides: a 12-year saga

P. Sainath IN THE HINDU

In 2006-08, Maharashtra saw 12, 493 farm suicides. That is 85 per cent higher than the 6,745 suicides it recorded during 1997-1999. And the worst three-year period for any State, any time.

FARM SUICIDE DATA - A BLOT ON OUR DEVELOPMENTAL POLICIES

The loan waiver year of 2008 saw 16,196 farm suicides in the country, according to the National Crime Records Bureau. Compared to 2007, that’s a fall of just 436. As economist Professor K. Nagaraj who has worked in-depth on farm suicide data says, “the numbers leave little room for comfort and none at all for self-congratulation.” There were no major changes in the trend that set in from the late 1990s and worsened after 2002. The dismal truth is that very high numbers of farm suicides still occur within a fast decreasing farm population.

Between just the Census of 1991 and that of 2001, nearly 8 million cultivators quit farming. A year from now, the 2011 Census will tell us how many more quit in this decade. It is not likely to be less. It could even dwarf that 8 million figure as the exodus from farming probably intensified after 2001. The State-wise farm suicide ratios — number of farmers committing suicide per 100,000 farmers — are still pegged on the outdated 2001 figures. So the 2011 Census, with more authentic counts of how many farmers there really are, might provide an unhappy update on what is going on.

Focussing on farm suicides as a share of total suicides in India misleads. That way, it’s “aha! the percentage is coming down.” That’s silly. For one thing, the total number of suicides (all groups, not just farmers) is increasing — in a growing population. Farm suicides are rising within a declining farm population. Two, an all-India picture disguises the intensity. The devastation lies in the Big 5 States (Maharashtra, Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, Madhya Pradesh and Chhattisgarh). These account for two-thirds of all farm suicides during 2003-08. Take just the Big 5 — their percentage of all farm suicides has gone up. Worse, even their percentage of total all-India suicides (all categories) has risen. Poor States like Madhya Pradesh and Chhattisgarh are doing very badly for some years now.

In the period 1997-2002, farm suicides in the Big 5 States accounted for roughly one out of every 12 of all suicides in the country. In 2003-08, they accounted for nearly one out of every 10.

The NCRB now has farm suicide data for 12 years. Actually, farm data appear in its records from 1995 onwards, but some States failed to report for the first two years. Hence 1997, from when all States are reporting their farm suicide data, is a more reliable base year. The NCRB has also made access much easier by placing all past years of “Accidental Deaths & Suicides in India” reports on its website.

The 12-year period allows us to compare farm suicide numbers for 1997-2002, with how they turned out in the next 6-year period of 2003-2008. All 12 years were pretty bad, but the latter six were decidedly worse.

Reading a ‘trend’ into a single year’s dip or rise is misleading. Better to look at 3-year or 6-year periods within 1997-2008. For instance, Maharashtra saw a decline in farm suicide numbers in 2005, but the very next year proved to be its worst ever. Since 2006, the State has been the focus of many initiatives. Manmohan Singh’s visit to Vidharbha that year brought the “Prime Minister’s Relief Package” of Rs.3,750 crore for six crisis-ridden districts of the region. This came atop Chief Minister Vilasrao Deshmukh’s Rs.1,075 crore “CM’s relief package.” Then followed the nearly Rs.9,000 crore that was Maharashtra’s share of the Rs.70,000-crore Central loan waiver for farmers. To which the State government added Rs.6,200 crore for those farmers not covered by the waiver. The State added Rs.500 crore for a one-time settlement (OTS) for poor farmers who had been excluded from the waiver altogether because they owned over five acres of land.

In all, the amounts committed to fighting the agrarian crisis in Maharashtra exceeded Rs. 20,000 crore across 2006, 2007 and 2008. (And that’s not counting huge handouts to the sugar barons.) Yet, that proved to be the worst three-year period ever for any State at any time since the recording of farm data began. In 2006-08, Maharashtra saw 12, 493 farm suicides. That is nearly 600 more than the previous worst of 2002-2005 and 85 per cent higher than the 6,745 suicides recorded in the three-year period of 1997-1999. The same government was in power, incidentally, in the worst six years. Besides, these higher numbers are emerging within a shrinking farm population. By 2001, 42 per cent of Maharashtra’s population was already urban. Its farmer base has certainly not grown.

So was the loan waiver useless? The idea of a waiver was not a bad thing. And it was right to intervene. More that the specific actions were misguided and bungled. Yet it could also be argued that but for the relief the waiver brought to some farmers at least, the suicide numbers of 2008 could have been a lot worse. The waiver was a welcome step for farmers, but its architecture was flawed. A point strongly made in this journal (Oh! What a lovely waiver, March 10, 2008). It dealt only with bank credit and ignored moneylender debt. So only those farmers with access to institutional credit would benefit. Tenant farmers in Andhra Pradesh and poor farmers in Vidharbha and elsewhere get their loans mainly from moneylenders. So, in fact, farmers in Kerala, where everyone has a bank account, were more likely to gain. (Kerala was also the one State to address the issue of moneylender debt.)

The 2008 waiver also excluded those holding over five acres, making no distinction between irrigated and unirrigated land. This devastated many struggling farmers with eight or 10 acres of poor, dry land. On the other hand, West Bengal’s farmers, giant numbers of small holders below the 5-acre limit, stood to gain far more.

Every suicide has a multiplicity of causes. But when you have nearly 200,000 of them, it makes sense to seek broad common factors within that group. Within those reasons. As Dr. Nagaraj has repeatedly pointed out, the suicides appear concentrated in regions of high commercialisation of agriculture and very high peasant debt. Cash crop farmers seemed far more vulnerable to suicide than those growing food crops. Yet the basic underlying causes of the crisis remained untouched. The predatory commercialisation of the countryside; a massive decline in investment in agriculture; the withdrawal of bank credit at a time of soaring input prices; the crash in farm incomes combined with an explosion of cultivation costs; the shifting of millions from food crop to cash crop cultivation with all its risks; the corporate hijack of every major sector of agriculture including, and especially, seed; growing water stress and moves towards privatisation of that resource. The government was trying to beat the crisis — leaving in place all its causes — with a one-off waiver.

In late 2007, The Hindu carried (Nov. 12-15) the sorry result emerging from Dr. Nagaraj’s study of NCRB data: that nearly 1.5 lakh peasants had ended their lives in despair between 1997 and 2005. Just days later, Union Minister for Agriculture Sharad Pawar confirmed those figures in Parliament (Rajya Sabha Starred Question No. 238, Nov. 30, 2007) citing the same NCRB data. It’s tragic that 27 months later, the paper had to run a headline saying that the number had climbed to nearly 2 lakh. The crisis is very much with us. Mocking its victims, heckling its critics. And cosmetic changes won’t make it go away.

http://www.hindu.com/2010/01/25/stories/2010012555530800.htm

The spectre of farmers’ suicides

Siba Mohanty

IN THE NEW INDIAN EXPRESS

Bidyadhar Bag was just 40 when he died. He had rented two acres in Khapsadera village of Orissa’s Sambalpur district to grow food for the family. The payment to the landlord was seven bags of paddy per acre. But the monsoon failed, so Bidyadhar, a father of three, sold household articles to keep the home fires burning. He also owed Rs 5,000 to an SHG (self-help group) and another Rs 10,000 to friends and relatives. Unable to meet any of these commitments, he killed himself in despair.Bidyadhar’s story is not unique. In fact, farmer suicides have become common in Orissa over the last decade. Over 50 farmers have committed suicide in the last six months. According to a study by the Mumbai-based Indira Gandhi Institute of Development Research, the rate of suicides by farmers went up from 5.2 per 100,000 males in 2000 to 9.8 in 2004 and rising. While this is still low compared to Maharashtra (52) and Andhra Pradesh (44), the trend is disturbing, to say the least.So, what are the reasons? Is it spir­alling debt burdens, or is Orissa again finding itself caught in a trap of tragedy and shame of impoverishment? The government speaks in two voices. One digs up conspiracy theories and the other somewhat reluctantly adm­its to the unfolding tragedy.“Agricultural traditions in Orissa,” reasons agriculture minister Damodar Rout, “are primitive. The  farmers’ tolerance to harsh conditions is quite high, which is why normally they don’t take such steps. It’s an insensitive Opposition and a section of motivated media which have made it out to be so without caring to understand the underlying causes.”On the other hand, “the reasons for suicide apparently are loss of crop and apprehensions over loan repayment, mainly from private sources,” concludes the fact-finding team of the ruling Biju Janata Dal in its report to party supremo and chief minister Naveen Patnaik.Stories of heart-rending distress are not new to a state that shook the heart of the country in the 1980s. The tribal hinterland of Kalahandi shot into the national headlines with shocking reports of starvation deaths. In the KBK region, abject poverty bec­ame a disease that continues to haunt it in the decades that have followed. The shame of hunger deaths was taken to another level in the early 2000s. Tribal deaths rocked Raygada district and this time due to consumption of mango kernels.For a state tagged as India’s hottest industrial and investment destination, it is time to wake up, let go of the fantasies and tackle the realities. And realise that things have not changed much. Hunger, deprivation and poverty still stalk the land.The figures cannot be ignored. Most of the deaths have been reported from the state’s western pockets, which is the rain-shadow zone.  Erra­tic rainfall last year pushed many farmers over the edge, driving them to the ultimate step.It is true, of course, that only a few go to the extreme. If one looks at the farmer sub-group and their suicide rate, one has to look at social as well as economic factors to understand the trend. High indebtedness could be one cause. A glance at the rate of poverty red­uction answers a few questions. In Orissa, the rate has been low — from 48.6 per cent in 1993-94, it dropped to 46.4 per cent in 2004-05. The recent report of the Suresh Tendulkar Committee, which singled out Orissa as one of the poorest states, corroborates this. Small and marginal farmers make up a large segment of the population and they have got no benefit from development programmes.“Agricultural and other labourers in rural Orissa,” says Srijit Mishra, a senior researcher, “have a high incidence of poverty. What’s worrying is 46 per cent are poor among those who are self-employed in agriculture.”Their plight has only worsened as holdings have declined in size over the years while their number has risen. Further, on account of declining retu­rns from agriculture, the incremental value of output has become negative. Over the last decade and a half, the cost of farming has risen multi-fold while returns have crashed, which explains the agrarian distress.With irrigation capacity more or less constant, the erratic monsoon has compounded the misery of the farmers. The Naveen Patnaik government focused on industrial growth and ignored the farm sector. The government’s excessive leniency towards industrial houses in water distribution has triggered serious unrest among farmers.Irrigation potential remains seriously unutilised, exposing farmers to floods and drought, which have recurred with alarming frequency in the last 10 years. The last monsoon saw at least 15 districts reeling under drought and sustained crop loss of 50 percent and more. It is from these districts the suicides reports have poured in.The daughter of Gourahari Patra (50), who ended his life in Sargapalli village of Jharsuguda district, has reason to agree. Her father owned five acres and grew paddy on three. But water stress and pest attacks devastated his crop. The Rs 20,000 Patra had borrowed from a co-operative society and another Rs 20,000 from a private lender became mountainous burdens. “Things became extremely difficult in the family. The pressure of crop loss, loan repayment and inability to provide for us, destroyed his fortitude. But still, he shouldn’t have left us,” she says.Minister Rout dismisses high indebtedness as a cause. “In the period between 1997 and 2008, 48,531 persons committed suicide in Orissa and only 3,509 of them were farmers.”He does, however, agree that small and marginal farmers need support. “We need to give them additional sources of livelihood from dairy, fisheries and other sectors. I have submitted a Rs 5,000-crore plan for the Animal Resources sector with the objective of boosting their income in the long run,” he says. The question is, how much if any of this will they ever see? For Bag and Patra it already too late.With inputs from Ratan K Pani— sibamohanty@expressbuzz.com

Horror seems set to return

The spectre of farmers committing suicide, unable to make ends meet, appears to be slowly coming back to haunt Andhra, notes R Prithvi Raj.

The situation was grim in 2004, the time when N Chandrababu Naidu lost to Congress’ Y S Rajasekhara Reddy. The nine-year rule (1996-2004) of Naidu happened to be a prolonged period of drought and there seemed no end to the farmers’ problems.According to government statistics, during this period, as many as 3,690 people of various vocations committed suicide. This included 2,800 farmers. Most of the farmers had raised cotton and groundnut crops. They lost most of their investment they had leveraged from moneylenders. Unable to bear the debt burden and family life shattered, the farmers turned to the final solution, ending their lives.The nightmare continued till 2004 when YSR, with his pro-farmer avatar, secured a massive mandate from the people of the state. After he took over, as if by miracle, there were good monsoons year after year. Though farmers still depended on moneylenders for investment, they could manage the debt with the income they generated from their farming activity. As ample rains became a common occurrence year after year till 2008-09, farmer suicides became a rarity.But the problem has resurfaced now, with the monsoon playing truant last year. Though YSR was re-elected to power, he could do not do much. After his untimely death in September, the state experienced the worst ever floods with the swollen Krishna River ravaging large parts of the state. Though there was rain, it was too heavy, very late and proved to be of not much use to farmers as kharif season was already coming to an end. This combination of factors sparked a spike in farmer suicides though nothing on so alarming a scale as seen during Naidu’s rule. The Telugu Desam Party this time around championed the cause of farmers in dire straits and alleged that as many as 20 farmers had committed suicide, including 11 in Anantapur.Experts say that another important reason for the state’s farmers ending their lives was the extremely low price offered for their produce. Coupled with low yields as a result of the prolonged dry spells between 1995-2004, it created an impossible situation for them. This cyclical phenomenon of fluctuation of agriculture prices began showing an upward trend in 2004.Says Prof N Chandrasekhara Rao of Centre for Economic and Social Studies (CESS): “Farmers could manage their debt problem for three years after 2004 because of good monsoon and upward trend in prices for agriculture produce. But this year they are facing problems again. The structural factors still persist, defying a permanent solution. Even today, only 30 per cent of farmers get institutional credit. The rest are woefully dependent on moneylenders. This apart, the productivity of the farm sector has not at all improved,” he says.— raj@expressbuzz.com

Death by drought and more

ANJALI LAL GUPTA IN THE HINDU

In drought-hit Bundelkhand, corruption is not just a tired cliché from a bad Bollywood movie, it is a life-threatening human rights emergency.

Corruption exacerbates poverty in Bundelkhand…the money earmarked for NREGA is being cleverly pocketed by village council leaders and unscrupulous officials.

Sesame shoots in the fields of Bundelkhand make it seem there is no drought. But the crops are stunted and useless.

Bundelkhand, which comprises six districts in Madhya Pradesh and seven in Uttar Pradesh, has had a drought for seven years except the last one. At the peak of farming season this year, rains were half of normal.

In between Mahoba and Chhattarpur districts lies Khajuraho airport. Swanky roads and five-star hotels dot the tourist destination and belie the silent human catastrophe unfolding just kilometres away. Drought may have ravaged the fields but State apathy and the brazenly corrupt officials are more brutal.

Multitudes throng us in every village we visited. Willing to clutch at straws in their desperation, their voices would go: “Have you written about my mentally challenged son?”… “I applied for old age pension long back.” … “I have been anxiously waiting for my widow pension card.” “They haven’t paid my NREGA wages.”

Inaccessible healthcare

Eighty-five-year old Motiya, slumped on a cot, gives out a heartrending cry as we step into his dingy hut. His wife sleeps nearby. Both have had fever for four days. Motiya has bed sores and can barely move. Villagers say that often worms crawl out of his mouth. “The other day my father defecated in bed. I cleaned him up. Where is the money to get them medicines?” asks Motiya’s son Chaniya, a daily-wage labourer in Seelaun village of Chhattarpur. The government hospital is 25 km away, and rarely stocks medicines.

Cattle, abandoned on highways, and the old are among the causalities of this drought as families flee a disaster. In village after village, elders have in vain applied for pension that provides Rs. 275 a month. Often the local officials demand bribes from penniless petitioners. Also, families who own more than five acres of land are not classified as being Below Poverty Line or BPL. It does not bother the officials that the drought has rendered income from land inadequate.

Dalit woman Jhharokhan Paswan in Chandauli village of Mahoba could not complete the last rites of her husband who died of grinding hunger last year. “My blind husband died a slow painful death,” she says. A tattered sari covers her old body. Had the grain bank supported by ActionAid partner organisation Kriti Shodh Sansthan not given her 40 kg of wheat, she would have had to go on begging. Last month, she threw a dried-up chapatti on the district collector’s table. He promised to mark her as BPL. And she is still waiting.

Against the wall

Despair is all too common in Bundelkhand. Rani’s husband Priti Pal Singh jumped into a well in Chandauli three months back. Their three acre land had stopped yielding, and he couldn’t repay a loan of Rs. 80,000 he took for his daughter’s wedding. Rani has asked for a job but the sarpanch argues over how an upper caste woman can go to work! Though only slightly better-off, villagers have been generous enough to offer food. “I dread to think what will happen if they stop. Sometimes I too feel like jumping into the well,” her voice falters. Nights spent listening to her children crying out of hunger are still fresh in her memory.

Corruption exacerbates poverty in Bundelkhand. The running of the National Rural Employment Guarantee Act or NREGA is an example. The scheme that promises 100 days’ work could have been a lifeline for rural families. But the money earmarked for it is being cleverly pocketed by formidable village council leaders and unscrupulous officials.

NREGA wages have not been paid to 200 people of Akauna village in Chhattarpur for eight months. Officials have yet to answer queries posed in March under the Right to Information Act on how many villagers got jobs in Akauna. Eighty villagers in Seelaun are yet to get remuneration. In village after village, inhabitants underline that those who are close to the panchayat leaders get NREGA work or a BPL tag.

Village council heads often refuse to accept written applications. Hence, little evidence remains of how many rural folk sought jobs and how many got them. The Afforestation Mega Campaign in Uttar Pradesh — a scheme worth Rs. 1582 million — was launched last year to boost the NREGA in drought-prone Bundelkhand. Mahoba was supposed to get 10 million saplings. “Only 40 per cent of the saplings have been sown, the rest are on paper,” reveals Manoj Kumar of Kriti Shodh Samsthan.

Six rivers have gone waterless in Mahoba. So, without food, water and jobs, people have no choice but to migrate to metropolises. Chhattarpur Collector E. Ramesh Kumar was quoted in The Hindudated September 5, “This is not distress migration.” He attributed the movement to seeking better opportunities.

“In Delhi we live in plastic huts next to roads. At times we fall from high rises doing construction work. Does that sound like a better opportunity?” asks Ramlal.

Ramesh Kumar, in a telephonic exchange, says he is only a few months old in Chhattarpur. And that “some shortcomings” perhaps do affect some villages.

Great divide

The distance between Bundelkhand’s poor and their political leaders is huge. Asked whether elected representatives have visited them ever since the polls, there are laughs all around in Chandauli.

Even as Finance Minister Pranab Mukherjee has said the country has enough food stored to prevent high inflation, hunger is widespread in Bundelkhand.

Those who are entitled to subsidised grains in Seelaun assert the full quota of 35 kg hardly ever reaches them. Numerous people across villages wryly confess that their meals consist of chapattis and salt. Bangle seller Ramesh Lakhera says, “I remember the taste of dal.” Lakhera’s earnings have plunged, and lentils cost a steep Rs. 90 per kg.

“Nearly 65 per cent of families are malnourished in 500 villages of Mahoba,” says Manoj Kumar.

In Banda district, 48 per cent of the children aged three or less are underfed. Government records reveal there are 130,000 malnourished children in Chhattarpur and 600 in Tikamgarh district. However grim these statistics may be, there’s more.

“We have discovered 40 undernourished children in Kandva village of Tikamgarh who have not been mentioned in anganwadi registers. Ten are severely malnourished,” says Narendra Sharma of ActionAid. Government-supported anganwadis supposedly provide nutritious food to toddlers and pregnant women.

In Mahoba, 165 anganwadis don’t function at all.

Denied rights

Rural families in Bundelkhand are routinely denied their right to health and life as they are often unable to access lifesaving treatment. The health system is seldom held to account. “Lately we rushed a young man bitten by a snake to the nearest health centre. They sent us away. He died on the way to a bigger hospital,” says Lallu Khan of Mahoba. Last year five children died of diarrhoea in Seelaun. Ramkali Ahirwar from Pratappura says bitterly, “We go to doctors when we are about to collapse. We die at home everyday.”

Asked whether the Uttar Pradesh government headed by a Dalit leader has made any difference to their lives, Phulia Rani, a Dalit woman in Chandauli, says “No.”

Meanwhile, the state website proudly announces “the historic decisions including increase in the budget for the welfare of Dalits and tribals by 41per cent”.

The author is a development journalist based in New Delhi and Hyderabad.

http://www.hindu.com/mag/2009/12/27/stories/2009122750130400.htm