Life In A 'No Attention Zone': The Adivasis Of Gadchiroli

In the first week of March, Anil Netam and Dayarobai Netam, who live in Godari village, located in Korchi tehsil of Gadchiroli, Maharashtra, rushed their two children—a three-year-old daughter and six-year-old son—to a dawakhana (dispensary) close by. Both had high fever. The parents knew it was malaria. The village is tucked inside a forest, and the deadly mosquitoes are the biggest enemies of the people living in the village­—bigger than the Naxal menace.

The doctor at the dawakhana referred them to a health facility in Gadchiroli—which is about 200 km from the village. Public transport is almost non-existent in the region and the parents did not have enough cash. The entire village pooled in some money and arranged for an auto. When they reached the clinic in Gadchiroli, the doctor referred them to a clinic in Chandrapur. While they were on the way, their daughter died in the mother’s lap. They managed to get the son admitted, but he also passed away the same evening. The parents returned to the village. The entire village mourned for two days. “The doctors kept on referring us from one hospital to the other. In the process, I lost my two children,” says the mother.

It’s been eight months since. It’s November—election month. The parents have still not gotten over the deaths. Malaria continues to be a menace. The Madia Gond tribes living here continue to suffer.

A reporter visiting the village tucked deep inside a forest is rare. The villagers gather at Netam’s house. It’s just one small room. A stove is kept in one corner, a few earthen pots are placed next to it. Everything is damp—the floor, the walls and the shelf. It had rained the previous night. Dayarobai is kneading dough and griding red chilies. There is a puddle at the entrance. Some villagers cross that and settle inside the house, some sit outside. Netam pulls a chatai (mat). The crickets are chirping incessantly. “My kids just vanished, and I could do nothing,” says Netam.

People say they are angry with the government, especially because politicians make a rare appearance in the region in the run-up to the elections. On the rest of the days, they don’t matter at all. Among other issues, malaria and insufficient healthcare facilities are the twin battles that they have always been fighting. For decades.

According to the state health department’s data, from January to May this year, Mumbai and Gadchiroli districts recorded 80 per cent of the total 3,062 malaria cases in Maharashtra. While Mumbai accounted for 1,324 cases, Gadchiroli reported 1,142.

The government healthcare facilities aren’t missing—there is one district hospital, 12 community health centres (CHCs) and 45 primary health centres (PHCs), but all are severely understaffed—the physician-to-population ratio stands at 1:5,000, compared to the national average of 1:1,300. At the district hospital in Dhanora tehsil, for instance, five general physicians are catering to people from five-six villages. The villages are nearly 15 km apart and there are no ambulances.

“All these healthcare facilities are for the sake of numbers. They are not built to cater to us. If that was the case, we would not have lost our children,” said the grandfather of the two children from Godari village.

Due to inaccessible hospitals and the lack of funds, people are forced to go to traditional practitioners and healers first. “We didn’t have enough money to take our children to Gadchiroli or Chandrapur,” says Netam when asked why they took their children to a local doctor.

Most of the villagers still rely on them. They are not equipped to treat grave illnesses. Many people lose their lives because they don’t get proper treatment. The death of three-year-old Arohi Bandu Telami is an example.

When severe malnourishment started bending her bones, her parents took her to the sub-district hospital in Aheri, located 45 km from their village Barsewada. Her discharge report indicated that she was suffering from Severe Acute Malnutrition (SAM). Arohi had been admitted to the hospital’s paediatric intensive care unit on April 11 before being transferred to the Nutrition Rehabilitation Centre (NRC). A better-equipped public health centre at Todsa was even further away. According to her father, Bandu Telami, the doctors initially assured them that Arohi would recover in 15 days. However, when her condition didn’t improve as expected, Telami and his wife were forced to take her home due to financial constraints, unable to afford the continued costs of her care and lodging. Ultimately, they took her to a priest who worked as a traditional healer. Arohi lost her life.

Incidentally, Gadchiroli has the second-highest number of malnutrition cases in Maharashtra.

“They lack nourishment. Malnourishment, combined with other diseases, leads to an increase in the mortality rate,” says Satish Gonguwar, who started Amchya Arogya Saathi, an NGO which provides allopathy and ayurvedic facilities in Kurkheda. “They continue to suffer because health facilities are so sparse. The doctors can’t be blamed either because the wages are so low.”

One of the other factors that is affecting the health of Adivasis living in villages is extensive mining in the region. Over the years, the extensive mining has led to the discharge of red iron oxide and chemical effluents into water bodies. In Korchi village, for instance, there are five wells. Among them, only one is operational; in the others, iron ore particles are mixed in the water.

According to a study published in the International Journal of Current Multidisciplinary Studies, iron ore mining causes irreversible damage to both underground and surface water systems, severely impacting the health of those who rely on this water. “The average lethal dose of iron is 200-250 mg per kg of body weight, but deaths have occurred with doses as low as 40 mg per kg of body weight,” the study notes. People have been known to suffer from various health issues, including dehydration and gastrointestinal irritation. Iron ore mining can disrupt the body’s fluid regulation even long after a mine has been closed. Gadchiroli sits on one of the richest belts of natural resources. While the government offers little help, outsiders are driving development projects in the region, completely ignoring local needs and realities.

“They keep promising that they would create thousands of jobs for the Adivasis in the mining belt. But the Adivasis here are mostly farmers. They don’t have the skills to work at mines,” says Ramesh Kavdo, president of the Damkondawahi Bachao Sangharsh Samiti. It is a protest movement led by Madia-Gond Adivasis and it advocates against corporate mining in the Etapalli subdivision of Gadchiroli district.

Close to 20 companies, including established players in the steel sector, have shown interest in mining iron ore in Surajgarh pocket of Gadchiroli district. About 1,000 residents from more than 70 Adivasi villages surrounding the Surajgarh hills have been opposing the proposed iron mines since March 2023. Maharashtra Police on November 20, 2023, arrested eight prominent Adivasi leaders of an anti-mining agitation.

Incidentally, in the election manifestos, the issues faced by the tribal communities in Gadchiroli were largely missing. The Adivasis say they feel betrayed.

In September, a young couple from Aheri taluka was forced to carry the bodies of their two young sons who had died from fever after allegedly not receiving timely medical care. This is just another example of how lives are being claimed due to the lack of medical facilities. In a neighbouring village, a pregnant tribal woman faced a similar fate. The hospital failed to send an ambulance in time, and she gave birth to a stillborn child at home. Tragically, her suffering didn’t end there; she also died. Her health deteriorating as she waited for help that never came. While many schemes have been announced, the lack of implementation is startling. The region has been dealing with the Naxal menace, so while roads have been built, but well-equipped hospitals are rare to find. Another election season is coming to an end, a new government will come in, but the Adivasis feel they will continue to live in the ‘No Attention Zone’.