Twenty-eight-year-old Kailash Nathu, a member of the Bhil Adivasi community, recalls a horrific incident from 2018, when like every year, he migrated from his village Gamaniya Hameera, all the way to Gujarat to find work as a daily-waged labourer. Nathu was not the only villager who used to migrate from Rajasthan to the cities of Gujarat and Madhya Pradesh to seek livelihood, it has been a routine— much like a necessary-evil — for the people of his community who otherwise would sustain themselves through farming during the monsoon season.
After spending a few weeks in Gujarat’s Surat, Nathu caught Dengue fever— a mosquito-borne illness, that in severe cases may lead to death. Migrant labourers, owing to less income and hand-to-mouth earnings often live in big cities under dire conditions— in shanties with scanty access to hygiene, or in the worst cases, on the road pavements or under the flyovers. Nathu fell severely ill and could not recover even after spending days in a government hospital in Surat. After losing hope, and most of the money he had saved, he withdrew from the treatment and left for home.
“I thought I would die, and I wished to die in my village, at my home, in peace,” Nathu recalls. However, as fate had it, he recovered. And fearful of such an episode ever repeating, he decided never to migrate again. At least “never as a labourer”.
Gamaniya Hameera, a very small village with a population of 1600 and the geographical area of 308 hectares, is 580 kilometres far from the capital city of Jaipur. Nearest town to village is the town-city of Banswara— the center of major economic activity— that is approximately 60 kilometres away. As the village lies on a high, hilly and tough terrain, and the near absence of water bodies in close proximity, practicisng agriculture there is in itself a challenge.
In Gamaniya Hameera, dozens of Bhil families, who sustain on agriculture during the rainy season, would migrate in late summers to cities of Gujarat and Madhya Pradesh. Rainfall being the only major source of irrigation in the erratic geographical terrains of the region, agriculture does not continue for the whole year. And without farming, it is impossible to sustain.
However, things have slowly started to change. Bhils in Gamaniya Hameera have been going back to the traditional and sustainable farming practicies, which is not helping them only farm throughout the year but adapting these changes has also sharply declined the tribal migration, and improved health and nutrition, and is also allowing them to focus on acquiring the basic the education.
The uphill task towards a better life for the Bhils of Gamaniya Hameera began in 2008, when Vaagdhara— an NGO that has been working for the last two decades, aiming at the holistic development of the tribal communities— kicked off their interventions in the region, training the indigenous inhabitants to embrace practices like organic farming, mixedcrop farming, seed management, and introducing more crops.
Back to the traditions
“Green revolution has had a drastic impact on agriculture in India, as the focus shifted from biodiversity to high yielding varieties of crops,” an official from Vagdhaara says adding, “in order to increase the yield, hybrid and genetically modified seeds were introduced and governments started promoting them left, right and centre.”
The introduction of new breed of seeds did not only push the traditional seeds to the verge of extinction, he said, but to ensure the optimal yield, it also made farming hugely dependent on harmful pesticides and fertilisers, that in turn affects the fertility of the soil, impurifies groundwater and gives birth to an array of health ailments among the population.
The issue of dependency of farmers on new-age seeds is a universal phenomenon, but its effects and woes are visible in tribal villages like Gamaniya Hameera, where the agriculture is mostly rainfed and the impoverished farmers do not have enough resources to buy chemicals, hybrid and genetically modified seeds every year. However, the Bhils of Gamaniya Hameera have been, for quite some years, going back to the traditional practice of selecting indigenous healthy seeds and preserving them for the next crop season.
This helps the farmers save a lot of money, as the indigenous seeds do not require fertilisers and chemicals. In Gamaniya Hameera, every year, most of the seed management practicies— selecting and storing the indigenous seeds— are carried out by women.
“The hybrid seeds would cost us a lot, and buying fertilisers and other chemicals would cost us so much that we would be in debt most of the time,” says Bhooli, a fifty-year-old woman from the village.
“Now that we store our own seeds, we can save a little money. We can send our children to school, and buy them books,” she adds. Going back to the indigeneous seeds has also enabled the farmers to focus exclusively on organic methods. They use traditional pesticides that are prepared from an array of indigenous herbs, and instead of using synthetic and chemical fertilisers, the villagers have completely switched to organic composting.
“We don't use any pesticides or fertilisers, and we have realised that we don’t fall sick much often as we used to. We have become healthy,” says Bhooli, “our children are also getting proper nutrition now”.
Earlier, the villagers would focus on monocropping and would grow crops like Rice or Paddy or Wheat, but the focus has now shifted to introducing more nutritious crops like millets, soybeans, chickpeas, tomatoes, maize, pumpkins, cucumbers et al. The latter are not only more nutritious than the former, but they also open a window for the farmers to practice mixedcropping where the risk of crop failure due to erratic weather or rainfall is very less.
“If we grew maize exclusively, for example, inclement rains would destroy the whole crop, and that would leave us famished for the year” says Babulal Makha, a farmer, “however, since we adopted the mixedcropping, there is a sense of security. If one crop is destroyed by rains or erratic weather, other crops, sown in the same field, would sustain.”
Practicing mixedcropping and going back to traditional methods has given farmers a sense of security, and it has allowed them to reap the benefits of the soil throughout the year, owing to which the practice of migration has almost vanished from the region.
Earlier, the families would move to cities like Gujarat and Madhya Pradesh for labour and wandering to and fro would affect the children’s education and immunisation adversely. And now as the nomadic nature of the tribals has sharply diminished, it has allowed them to settle down in one place.
“Our kids would often fall sick because they would not be immunised and vaccinated regularly, as we would always be travelling. They would miss their schools for months when we would leave Rajasthan,” says Babulal Makha, a farmer, adding, “Now that we have stopped migrating to neighbouring states, our children do not miss vaccines. They are also able to go to schools regularly, it is a blessing.”
The decline in migration has come to the village like a panacea, a relief from the cascading spate of woes.
Kailash Nathu tells Outlook that many tribal migrant workers— who would live on the pavements or under the flyovers in the cities of neighbouring states— would often get grievously injured in road accidents while asleep. Some, he says, would even die.
“It is a blessing that farming is saving us,” says Khattu Makha, a Bhil farmer, “we are content living our lives in our fields. In our home. We belong here.”
