Tea Workers’ ‘No’ to Economic Zone on Paddy Land

by admin | Dec 20, 2015 | Newspaper Report

by Philip Gain, The Daily Star, December 20, 2015

Tea workers in an open-air protest rally against economic zone. Photo:Philip Gain

It was a very tense morning for Udoy Modi, a tea worker of Chandpore Tea Estate on December 15. In his sixties, Udoy wrapped his chest with the Bangladeshi flag and carried an arrow and a couple of bows. He sat stone-faced on the land that he was forced to protect from being taken away by the government.

Udoy was not alone. A dozen other men of the tea estate in Habiganj district appeared with bows and arrows to join a massive protest rally against the government’s plan to establish an economic zone on vast paddy lands in the northern part of the estate. It was harvest time and the vast field was covered with ripe paddy.

The open-air protest gathering was spontaneous. Hundreds of men and women, holding sticks, axes, placards, and bows and arrows in hand, had assembled at the paddy land owned by the British tea company, Duncan Brothers, while flying the Bangladeshi flag on their heads and wrapping them around their chests. By noon, a disciplined crowd filled the middle of the 511 acres of paddy land that the government transferred to the Bangladesh Economic Zone Authority (BEZA) on November 21, 2015 to establish an economic zone there.

BEZA, operating under the authority of the prime minister’s office, has an ambitious plan to establish 100 economic zones throughout the country to speed up economic growth. On December 12, the Chunarughat TNO office announced that government officials would visit the area the next day to demarcate the land for an economic zone. The TNO reportedly asked for help in demarcating the land with pillars. Instead, it was faced with one of the most unprecedented protests ever seen by tea garden workers.

From December 13, the tea workers of Chandpore Tea Estate stopped working in the tea garden and started assembling [from around 10 am till 4 pm] on the cropland, which in the tea garden’s terminology is known as khet land. Established in 1890, the tea estate is classified as an “A” class garden (to be in category “A” a garden needs to produce 181,000 kgs or more of tea per annum) with three fari (subsidiary) gardens — Begum Khan, Jualbhanga, and Ramgonga. The total grant land (public land leased for production of tea) of this garden is: 3,851 acres, of which paddy or khet land is 985 acres. Of this khet land, 511 acres are situated in the north of the garden, bisected by the old Dhaka-Sylhet highway, has been transferred to BEZA. The garden has 1,955 workers and a populace of 8,833 people.

The tea workers cut the jungle some 150 years ago, cleaned the bushes and reeds to make the tea gardens. At the same time, they prepared the land for growing crops. After the partition of India, the entire land for cultivating tea became public land. The tea communities (now with a population of around half a million) could not take advantage of the State Acquisition and Tenancy Act that awarded ownership of land to the users. It is because of exceptional land management that the tea workers and their communities cannot own land. But they have cultivated the khet land for generations.

Of the 113,663.87 ha grant land of the whole tea industry (except Panchagarh), 12,134.29 ha are paddy land. In official documents, the government has shown that the paddy land of the Chandpore Tea Estate transferred to BEZA is non-agricultural land. This has angered the tea workers.

“We will not give our khet land for the economic zone,” said Monsuk Urang (52) who we found harvesting his paddy on December 15, before joining the protest rally. “My father and grandfather cultivated this land. They cut the jungle, fought with wild animals and insects. We are ready to die but we will not give up this land.”

According to sources of the Chandpore Tea Estate, more than 1,000 families use the 511 acres of paddy land. Many of these families depend solely on this land for subsistence.

All of those who use khet land at the Chandpore Tea Estate share Monsuk Urang’s sentiments. Each day since December 15, the number of protesters has only been increasing. They begin the peaceful protest rally with the national anthem. They hold the national flag in one hand and placards with slogans such as, “My land, my mother, I will not allow it to be snatched away”, or “Resist attempts by those who want to take away the paddy lands.”

Officials of Duncan Brothers are concerned, as the tea estate has remained closed since December 13. “It is not yet season for massive production, yet we produce 3,000 kgs of tea per day. However, it is the time to prune the tea plants and perform other jobs to keep the garden in shape,” said Shamim Huda, Manager of the Chandpore Tea Estate.

It’s even worse for the workers. If they do not go to work, they are not paid for the day. Many have left their ripe paddy fields unharvested. They fear that if they do harvest the fields, the land will appear non-agricultural. “We are ready for any sacrifice, including giving blood to protect the paddy land,” said Swapon Santal, a leader of the Bhumi Raksha Committee (Land Protection Committee).

An appeal to the Prime Minister

The tea workers are extremely patriotic as could be seen from the national flags they hold close to their heart every day since the beginning of the protest movement. Many of them even actively participated in the Liberation War of 1971. They have complete trust in Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina.

The leaders of the Bhumi Raksha Committee are making all arrangements to meet the PM to ensure that she knows that the land transferred to EPZ is actually agricultural land. Even though they complain that the local administration attitude towards them has so far been aggressive and inhospitable, they believe wholeheartedly that the Prime Minister will not disappoint them.

Several protesters have even publicly announced that if the PM assures them that justice will be done to them, they will return home. “All we want is an open discussion,” they’ve stressed.

Officials of Duncan Brothers have told this writer that the lease of the Chandpore Tea Estate was last renewed in 2013, and the land now transferred was part of the tea garden. “But the government has neither communicated with us in writing nor called us for any meeting about the transfer of the paddy land to be used as an economic zone,” said a senior official of Duncan Brothers. “The government can take land granted for tea production for its use. But we sincerely expected the government to discuss the matter with us.”

The tea workers and the owner hold mostly similar views about the issue, even though the owners do not show up at the rally or publicly display support for the protest movement. Nevertheless, neither groups want the government to lie about the condition of the land. They want the PM to be made aware of the truth about the status of the khet land and offer a solution after considering the interests of all the parties involved.

Support has been pouring in from people belonging to different quarters for this non-violent protest movement. Everybody wants to see justice being done to these hardworking tea workers.

(Note: The tea workers had organised a protest rally from December 13 till December 18, until writing of this article. They were keen to intensify the protest movement, unless the government listens to their demands).

The writer is a researcher and Director of the Society for Environment and Human Development (SEHD).

Cover Story: AMBUSHED BY GREED

by admin | Jan 28, 2011 | Newspaper Report

The Chaks of Baishari are a tiny community, the existence of which is being threatened by encroachment of their land to grow rubber and tobacco, in the name of development. Story by Philip Gain. the daily STAR (stories behind the news) | Volume 10 | Issue 045 | January 28, 2011.

The Chaks of Baishari are a tiny community, the existence of which is being threatened by encroachment of their land to grow rubber and tobacco, in the name of development.

Chak woman in Badurjhiri. Photo: Philip Gain

It’s an exciting three-hour journey on foot from Baishari Chak Headmanpara to a real jungle village named Badurjhiri of 16 Chak families. On November 18, 2010, five of us–three Chaks and two of us from Dhaka–walk through the hills and streams, beauty and devastation with both joy and trepidation in our hearts.

As we walk out of the Chak paras (villages) in Baishari, the weather is calm and everything glistens under the golden sunlight of autumn. What fascinates the most as we walk through the Chak villages are the smiles of the Chaks and the look of the elderly women distinguished by their large earrings that stretch and distort their earlobes. Such large earrings and the wide earlobes are not to be found among women in any other ethnic community in Bangladesh. Another interesting scene is of the elderly women with tobacco pipes in their mouth blowing white smoke with an air of freedom.

One may wonder where these two strange places–Baishari and Badurjhiri–are. Both are located in Baishari Union in Naikhongchhari Upazila in Bandarban Hill District. Quite unknown even to regular trekkers to the Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT), Baishari is one of four unions in Naikhongchhari Upazila with Chak habitation. There are around 3,000 Chaks in Bangladesh and another four to five thousand in Myanmar. There is no confirmed record of these beautiful people anywhere else on the globe. Imagine just seven thousand people in the whole world who have a distinct language and lifestyle! They proudly speak their language among themselves and find no difficulty speaking when communicating with their Bengali neighbours. They also speak Marma; but the Marmas, their close neighbours cannot speak the language of the Chak.

Leaving the Baishari Chak villages behind we get into the coolness of nature. Our feet dip into the cool stream water flowing over narrow, sandy, and shallow yellowish bed. Where does the water come from? “The water flows from the roots of trees that still survive and hold water from the rains,” is my naïve response to the query of my companion from Dhaka as regards to the source of the crystal clear cooling waters.

Dhung Cha Aung Chak (47), our host and guide, tells us it will take roughly three hours to walk to Badurjhiri and cautions us that we will pass through risky elephant habitat. He advises us to stay watchful. We are tense.

Chak woman at jum in Baishari. Photo: Philip Gain

What shocks us shortly after leaving the Chak paras is the vast expanse of rubber monoculture beginning from the edge of the Chak villages and extending far into the southeast. From a distance its looks like a deep jungle. Mistake! As we walk through rows of rubber trees we feel it’s a pure monoculture and a death-knell to wildlife. The rubber tree is an exotic species in this area and everywhere else in Bangladesh. It is a “milking” tree to its cultivators–most of them outsiders–who make a fast buck out of its cultivation. But for the Chaks and the Marmas, this is a ‘bad development’ on their traditional land. What used to be native forests, jum land, and grounds for their hunting and gathering is now rubber plantation. Bamboo, once an important source of livelihood and found in abundance, has been completely exhausted. This area also used to be an important habitat for elephants. The elephants still survive but in conflict with humans. Tree houses near paddy fields serve to keep the elephants away.

As we move forward, we walk about a kilometre along the stream of clear water flowing over yellowish sand. The cool water speaks of the tranquility of the surroundings. We are relaxed. However, as we look around we see the colossal damage done to nature and life. The hills, once covered with thick native forests, are bare today. Few are covered with ripe paddy, the last harvest of jumias, and which attracts elephants at night. The mention of elephants sends a chill down our spines. U Cha May Chak (37), wife of Dhung Cha who took the courage to be part of our exciting journey through the elephant habitat becomes particularly nervous as we see fresh marks of elephants’ presence around. We walk fast to quickly pass through Garjanchhara and Rangajhiri to be on high ground and safe from elephants.

Chak village in Baishari. Photo: Philip Gain

As we climb the hills, we stand on the top of complete destruction! The name of this place is Horinkhaiya. In every direction, the waves of hills are bare. As we look back to the northeast, the direction we came from, the vast expanse of low hills in the distance is covered with full-grown rubber trees. The hills in the distance look green and one can make the mistake of taking it as forests. In the south from Horinkhaiya, the rubber trees are hardly a year-old. Two years back [December 2008] when we passed through this area it was being cut for preparation of fresh rubber plantation. The nearby hills in the east, west and south still had coverage of native forests. Two years later we find the whole area cleared.

“Part of this area was cut last year,” says Dhung Cha Aung Chak. “This year preparation is going on for planting rubber trees.”

Chak dining in Badurjhiri. Photo: Philip Gain

Amrajhiri, an area that was still being cleared of vegetation in 2008 now has young rubber trees grown in terrace style farming on the steep hill slopes. A fence has been constructed to demarcate the rubber plantation area. As we look through rubber plantation into the east we see the greenery of some native forest patches.

Horinkhaiya and Amrajhiri are areas that used to be a safe haven for the Chaks and Marmas. They used to jum the land, hunt and gather freely. Edible plants and leaves still grow from the land devastated. U Cha May Chak (37) skillfully gathers a handful of succulent leaves of Usaithamang that will be part of our dinner menu tonight!

Into the forests!
Past Amrajhiri, we head for Badurjhiri, a small Chak village where we settle for the night. Now we see some greenery mixed up with patches of jum paddy on the high hills on the eastern horizon. As we go downhill we are thrilled at the absolute quietness and the narrow path through bushes. Ching La Mong Chak in the front of the line suddenly cries out in excitement. He has seen a red deer that disappears in the bush in the twinkle of an eye. I miss the deer; and caution Ching La Mong to stay calm the next time he sees any wildlife.

Before we reach Badurjhiri we walk past streams and bushes in fear. This is again an area where elephants pose threats to humans and domestic animals.

By the time we reach Badurjhiri, the sun is about to set. From a distance, the bamboo houses on the wooden platform in the small Chak hamlet look like dots in the greenery. A small stream flows beneath the village. The villagers have finished their washing, bathing, and day’s collection of water. U Cha May Chak wastes no time in bathing in the cooling water. Dhung Cha Aung is busy collecting wild vegetables and herbs near the stream. We are yet to realise the value of his collection.

By the time we settle in the machang house (house built on platform) of our host A Thui Chak on the slope of hill, we are at ease. We stretch our legs on the wooden floor of the one-room house with a small storeroom and an open platform on one side. The four-feet high open space under the house is where the family stores its firewood and other household materials. The hanging platform is used for washing kitchen utensils and for drying clothes.

We are soon joined by Karbari Kijari Chak (55) and engage in a chat with our host and the karbari (hereditary head of a hamlet in the CHT, traditionally nominated by the villagers, formally appointed by the circle chiefs, and acknowledged by the administration). As we have just experienced and they tell us the hamlet of 15 Chak families in 280 No. Alikhyong Mouza is a real forest village and cut off from the nearest human habitation. To reach the nearest village and Baishari Bazar one has to walk for hours.

Chak house in Badurjhiri.Photo: Philip Gain

All 15 Chak families in the 30 year-old village are jumias. But nowadays they cannot completely rely on jum. “The crops we get from jum are good for a maximum of six months a year. For the rest of the year we depend on the harvest of bamboo, which has also been exhausted,” says Kijari Chak. “This situation has encouraged us to engage in tobacco cultivation to earn cash.”

In 2008 when we passed through this area to go to the Mru Village Chamuajhiri, a three-hour difficult walk into the southeast from Badurjhiri, there was no tobacco there. This time when we enter the village we see young tobacco plants on the flat land that the Chaks used for production of much needed crops.

At one time the Chaks of Badurjhiri were completely dependent on jum cultivation. And they grew enough cereals from jum and the cropland for the entire year, says the karbari.

“Eight Chak villages in Baishari union still depend on jum and those depending on jum constitute approximately 20 percent of the Chaks,” says Ching Ch La of Baishari Upar Chak Para. In total there are 21 Chak villages in Naikhongchhari, Baishari, Dochhari, and Bandarban unions–all in Naikhongchhari Upazila.

The Chaks have varied reactions to tobacco being brought to the area by British American Tobacco Company. The local people refer to it as Gold Leaf, which is actually a cigarette brand of the company. The company brings cash and chemical inputs (fertiliser and pesticides), the right incentives at a time when the villagers remain unemployed for months. “Tobacco has brought us employment for the months from November when villagers have no work. Those with no grains in store can at least buy food from the markets,” says Kijari.

Chak woman collecting vegetable from the wild. Photo: Philip Gain

Elephants devouring paddy and damaging other crops are also a factor for taking an interest in tobacco. Elephants are not interested in tobacco. Elephants, the last major wildlife in the area the Chaks live in, oftentimes cause horror. In Early November 2010 elephants killed a buffalo of Badurjhiri Village. An elephant plunged its ivory three times into the stomach of the buffalo that remained tied at night. In the past elephants also killed a cow. According to the villagers of Badurjhiri there are herds of 50 to 100 elephants in the area.

The feared animal today, had enough to eat in the past. “Thirty years back, the area was a deep jungle,” says Kijari. “Man-animal fight was not like this in the past. Now the jungle is gone and the elephants go hungry and come to feed on our crops.”

Tobacco cultivation was introduced in Badurjhiri very recently in 2009 and this year 12 families are cultivating it. “Instant cash income is good from tobacco, which has expanded into the east from Badurjhiri,” says Thoai Ching Chak (30) of the village.

The Chaks of the Badurjhiri are awaiting a bigger threat that may come along with rubber cultivation. They have witnessed how rubber plantation dispersed the villagers of their neighbouring Chak village, Longoduhiri Chak Para. A Chak of Longodujhiri Chak Para, Shi Jai U Chak (40), now sheltered in Baishari Upar Chak Para, tells an appalling story of eviction of some 20 Chak families from his village that no longer exists.

Longodujhiri Chak Para was located in the northwest of Badurjhiri, about 30-minute walking distance. The village was evicted in 2002-2003. The Chak families lost their village to settlers who reportedly had R-holdings–“R” standing for refugee. One having R-holding is a settler getting land from the unclassed state forest (USF) potentially in the possession of the hill people.

“The outsiders have brought rubber on our jum land and village land and tobacco on cropland,” says Shi Jai U Chak saddened by the fact that he has become a daily labourer of a rubber plantation on land that was once the Chaks’ jum, homesteads and garden land.

“In the past there was plenty of bamboo to harvest. The outsiders have cut them all. Now there is no bamboo for us to harvest,” laments Shi Jai. “Like all others in my village, I was a jum cultivator. After losing land, we, who still remain in the area, have become day labourers. Ten families have gone to Myanmar.”

“It is our bad luck that we could not protect our land. With R-holding in hand, the Bangali settlers now cultivate rubber and tobacco on our cropland,” laments Shi Jai.

Shi Jai and none of the Chak families of the Longodujhiri Chak Para ever had settlement on their land, which they as indigenous people of the soil, had cultivated and lived on for generations.

With three sons and three daughters Shi Jai has run into difficult a situation. He has become rootless and very poor.

Fearful of invasion of rubber, A Thui Chak (30) says, “If rubber cultivation comes close to our village, our situation will be like the Chaks of Longodujhiri. We will be evicted.”

Bare hills in Baishari. Photo: Philip Gain

In the candle-lit room we could continue our conversation all night but we are interrupted–it is time for dinner. As we are talking and sipping home-made [rice-brewed] beverage dochoani we do not forget to take note of the meticulous preparation of the dinner items [at the corner of the room] by our host family with the assistance of Dhung Cha Aung Chak and U Cha May Chak. We already have had the taste of the Chak Cuisine, a marvel in forest villages.

All that a Chak family in a forest village needs to prepare a tasteful and healthy dinner is a chicken; everything else comes from jum and the jungle. We had to pay for two chickens. One comes on our dinner menu. The preparation of two items–soup and salad is very simple. After slaughter the whole chicken is boiled enough in water to get the best out of it for preparation of a special soup. A sour leaf, kaibotak (in Chak language), collected from the jungle is the ingredient that makes it really delicious. A dash of garlic, onion, and ginger fried in hot cooking oil and mixed with the soup make one of the finest soups one can ever taste. Then the rest of the boiled chicken sliced and mixed with chillies’ (special from jum), salt, bit of ginger and garlic makes an outstanding chicken salad. Two main items of a sumptuous dinner are ready.

Boiled for a minute or two, the green edible fern (Dhekisak) that Dhung Cha Aung Chak collected on our arrival at the Chak hamlet is to go with chilly paste. Chilly lovers will never forget the chilly paste the Chaks and other hill people make in basically two ways. One is, it is crushed in a piece of bamboo with a knot on one side (called maruthu in Chak language) with some dried fish or small prawn, salt, coriander, and lemon. Another preparation is that chilly is mashed and mixed with a particular eggplant grown in jum. A sour and soupy item made from tayongka (a sour leaf called Chupri shak in Bangla) and its flower with small prawn will add flavor and taste on your plate. Then there are boiled items–anything from banana bud to flower of silk-cotton tree. Don’t be surprised if a salad of mere succulent banana plant and dried fish with lot of hot chilly comes as a side dish. It is safe and nourishing for your stomach. Once you sip the chicken soup with all these items, you will never forget your time in a forest village. These wonderful food items, made at such little cost, have tremendous cultural and traditional value. But alas! If rubber plantation invades the jum land of the Badurjhiri Chaks, the ingredients of Chak cuisine will be lost forever.

After dinner we continue our conversation with the karbari, members of our host family and some teenagers of Badurjhiri. There is no school in Badurjhiri Village. Children who want to go to school must reside at least in Baishari. In 2010 five children from Badurjhiri stayed in Baishari to go to school. This is a difficult choice for the families to send their children to schools in Baishari.

Mong Ching Thoai Chak (19) and Keo Keo Chak (18) are two teenagers from Baishari who have studied up to class three and five and then stopped. Both are now jumia. If jum stops in the area due to tobacco and rubber they are likely to become day labourers.

Preparation for construction of a road towards Badurjhiri is making progress. This is both good and bad news for the forest villagers. With road connections established the people can move quickly and improve their market access. However, even without roads and access of vehicles, the tobacco company, rubber entrepreneurs, and land grabbers have already gone up to Badurjhiri and further into the east. With road network expanded, outsiders will come in more easily. This is very bad news for the Chaks and Mru in the remote forest villages.

As night falls we go to sleep. Nine of us sleep on the floor of the machang house hardly 10 feet x 15 feet. No space in the house is wasted. But we feel we are sleeping in the lap of absolutely quiet nature.

Next morning we take time to see a nearby jum where the chilly and all other vegetables came from to our dinner plates. The jumias grow almost everything they need. And now towards the end of jum season, they are busy collecting what remains. We get fresh chilly, tayongkai and its mature flowers to carry to Dhaka.

When we leave Badurjhiri Village and the land of the Chaks, we see something unusual for the Chak village–many men entering the village with two sacks folded on two side of a piece of bamboo. They are carrying chemical fertilizer and storing it in their houses for use in the tobacco field. Some Chak families are busy plowing and preparing their land for tobacco. We realise the invasion of modern and destructive agriculture has already happened. This is a big threat for Badurjhiri.

Rubber and Tobacco–at whose Interest?
The Chaks, Marmas, and other local residents do not want rubber in particular on the hills. “The rubber cultivators from outside have taken control of almost all land in Amrajhiri, Battalijhiri, and Tang Mang Mangjojhiri in Alikhyong Mouza (no. 280),” reports Dhungcha Aung Chak. “We are protesting against rubber cultivation in our area. Bir Bahadur MP, chairman of Chittagong Hill Tracts Development Board (CHTDB) came here and gave us his word that nobody would be evicted and everybody will stay where they are. But we do not see the sign of halting rubber.”

“Rubber has invaded the whole Baishari area. Our people are not aware. We receive allegation that rubber plantation is sometimes carried out in collusion with the headmen,” says Bir Bahadur MP.

The chairman of the CHTDB does not see anything wrong in rubber cultivation. “But what is wrong is not doing it on the land leased for the purpose,” says the chairman annoyed at the anomalous behavior of the rubber cultivators. “We have cancelled lease of 500 rubber plots (593 according to a local journalist) in Bandarban Hill District alone. The reason is those who got lease for rubber left it fallow.”

According to ZuamLian Amlai, chairperson of Bandarban Chapter of Movement for the Protection of Forests and Land Right in the CHT, the leaseholders who had their leases cancelled in 2010 retrieved 77 plots within two months. He says that many others are trying to get back their leases.

Mong Mong Chak (61), a retired high official of the CHTDB agrees with the CHTDB chairman and sees rubber as an investment in the national interest. “I am for and against rubber,” says Mong Mong Chak who comes from Baishari. “We, the Chaks have lost our land for our foolishness. We did not apply for participation in rubber.”

Mong Mong Chak is also resentful about the government authority assigned to oversee rubber plantation. “The government and the standing committee charged with rubber cultivation did not think about our well-being. It was the government policy to bring outsiders who have taken our land in the name of development.”

According to Mong Mong Chak, the leases for rubber done before the peace accord in 1997 stay valid and those who did not cultivate rubber are supposed to have their leases cancelled. “Some leases have been cancelled on paper, not in reality. There is no scope to lease land for rubber after the peace accord. Leases, if given after the peace accord, are illegal,” says Mong Mong Chak.

The Bandarban Hill District Council that is supposed to authorise any lease for rubber cultivation remains in the dark regarding on-going rubber cultivation in its jurisdiction.

Kyaw Shwe Hla, its chairman says, “We are yet to find out the status of rubber plantation–what plots have been cancelled and who are carrying out rubber plantation nowadays. All that we know is leases of some plots cancelled on paper may have gone to the same lease holders. The Bandarban Hill District Council did not authorise granting or cancelling leases.”

“We have written to the district administration to provide us information about the status of rubber plantation. We are yet to get an answer to our queries,” says Hla. “We are unable to do anything with land. What we see is many companies and individuals from outside are buying leases from the local people and taking possession of land.”

Land for rubber plantation and horticulture in Bandarban comes under the jurisdiction of three authorities–the Chittagong Hill Tracts Development Board (CHTDB), Deputy Commissioner, and the Standing Committee. The CHTDB oversees the rubber cultivation on 2,000 acres of land leased to 500 households under a rehabilitation project. These families are supposed to get land titles in their names.

A much bigger amount of land–nearly 50,000 acres–has been reportedly leased to around 1,800 individuals for commercial rubber production and horticulture. The size of an individual plot is generally 25 acres (some are up to 100 acres). The records related to the status of rubber plantation and horticulture is very difficult to get. However, what can be figured at from available records (partial) is that the majority of the individual leaseholders come from outside of Bandarban and a big percentage never initiated rubber cultivation after getting lease of land. Such lands have become grounds for anomalies and outsiders (individuals and companies) are taking advantage of this loophole.

Philip Gain is director of Society for Environment and Human Development (SEHD) and freelance journalist.

The Garo Women in Bangladesh: Life of a Forest People without Forest

by admin | Mar 10, 2010 | Newspaper Report

The Garo Women in Bangladesh: Life of a Forest People without Forest by Philip Gain, first published in World Rainforest Movement (WM) Bulletin No. 152 March 2010.

The Story of Tea Workers

by admin | Jun 6, 2009 | Newspaper Report

by Philip Gain looks at the struggle of the labourers in the tea gardens, FORUM, A Monthly Publication of The Daily Star, June 2009.

 Philip Gain looks at the struggle of the labourers in the tea gardens

Conditions on the tea gardens were grim. In 1911 the Head of Government in Assam spoke out against a labour system that, “treated its workers like medieval serfs.” Every few years new laws were drawn up in an attempt to impose minimum standards to protect the labourers on the plantations but these laws were largely ignored and unenforced, particularly as the local magistrates were planters. Companies used beatings, fines and imprisonment to keep their workers in line. Under British imperial laws trade unions were forbidden on the estates. Organisers who attempted to contact tea pickers were seen as trouble makers and accused of trespass. –British writer Dan Jones, 1986. “The tea gardens are managed like an extreme hierarchy: the managers live like gods, distant, unapproachable, and incomprehensible. Some even begin to believe that they are gods, that they can do exactly what they like.” — Francis Rolt, British journalist, 1991.

“Managers have anything up to a dozen labourers as their personal, domestic servants. They are made to tie the managers shoe laces to remind them that they are under managerial control and that they are bound to do whatever they are asked.” –British writer Dan Jones, 1986.

Tea, the second most popular beverage in the world (the first is water), is believed to have first been popularised in China. For thousands of years the Chinese farmers had the monopoly of cultivating tea. Its cultivation in the tropical and subtropical areas is a recent phenomenon.

Tea plantation in India’s Assam dates back to 1839. The first experimental tea garden in our parts was established in Chittagong in 1840 and the first commercial-scale tea garden in Bangladesh was established in 1854. Since then the tea industry has been through quite a few historical upheavals — notable among them are the Partition of India in 1947 and the Independence War in 1971. Through these historical changes, the ownership of tea gardens established by the British companies on the abundantly available forest or government land has changed hands.

Right now Bangladesh has 163 tea gardens (including seven in Panchagarh where tea cultivation started only recently) with 36 of them considered “sick.” One unique feature of the tea industry is that the entire land mass (115,000 ha excluding Panchagarh) granted for production of tea is government land. It is also for the colonial legacy that our tea gardens are huge in size and the management administer the gardens with the air of British Shahib and Zamindars. The use of grant areas for tea with 45% actually used for production of tea is another key concern. Land granted for tea cultivation but used for other commercial purposes is deemed unjust and an incentive for social injustice perpetrated on the tea plantation workers.

Photo: PHILIP GAIN

The most striking fact about tea production in Bangladesh is that after the partition of India most of the tea produced here used to be consumed by West Pakistan. After Independence, Pakistan remains to be the largest importer of Bangladeshi tea. However, now it is we who consume most of the tea that we produce. In 2007 Bangladesh produced 57.9 million kgs of tea of which only 10.6 million kgs were exported [82% of which was taken by Pakistan]. There is an apprehension that if the production of tea does not increase significantly and if domestic consumption continues to grow fast, Bangladesh will soon become an importer of tea. The bottom line is tea is no more an important export commodity and Bangladesh plays no significant role in the global tea trade although it ranked 10th among the tea-producing countries in 2007.

In the discussion on tea, its production, consumption and trade those who remain least attended are the tea plantation workers. The tea industry is very different from other industries. The production process of tea involves agriculture and industry. What is unique about labour distribution in these two areas is that the maximum of the labour force is engaged in agriculture — the tea gardens or the field. The labour force that keeps the tea industry alive is not local. The British companies brought them from Bihar, Madras, Orissa, Andhra Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh, West Bengal, Uttar Pradesh and other places in India to work in the tea gardens in the Sylhet region. The misfortune of these indentured laborers started with their journey to the tea gardens. According to one account, in the early years, a third of the tea plantation workers died during their long journey to the tea gardens and due to the tough work and living condition. Upon arrival to the tea gardens these laborers got a new identity, coolie and were turned into property of the tea companies. These coolies belonging to many ethnic identities cleared jungles, planted and tended tea seedlings and saplings, planted shade trees, and built luxurious bungalows for tea planters. But they had their destiny tied to their huts in the “labour lines” that they built themselves.

When they came first, they got into four-year contracts with the companies. That was the beginning of their servitude. More than a century and half or four generations have passed since the tea plantation workers settled in the labour lines. Their lives and livelihoods remain tied to the labour lines ever since. They are people without choice and entitlement to property. In addition to the wages, which is miserably low, they get some fringe benefits. The houses in the labour lines are given by the employer that comes first on the list of fringe benefits. One worker gets one house that is supposed to be maintained by the employer. However, generally the workers themselves do the repair and maintenance. Living conditions in houses in the labour lines are generally unsatisfactory and outrageous in many instances. Typically a single room [in the line house] is crowded with people of different ages of a family. Cattle and human beings are often seen living together in the same house or room. Some families try to construct an extra house or room for which they have to take permission from the management.

The wages — daily or monthly — is the single most concern. The maximum daily cash pay for the daily rated worker in 2008 was Taka 32.50 (less than half a US$). This is a miserable pay having a severe effect on the daily lives of the tea workers. Although the workers get rations at a concession, a family can hardly have decent food items on their plate. They indeed have very poor quality and protein-deficient meals. Their physical appearance tells of their malnourishment. Bangladesh Cha Sramik Union (BCSU) that represents the workers and Bangladesh Tea Association (BTA) that represents the employers sign a memorandum of agreement every two years to fix the wages. The last memorandum of agreement went into effect on 1 September 2005. The two-year period of effectiveness of the agreement ended on 31 August 2007 [during the state of emergency in the country]. It was due to the state of emergency and squabbles between rival groups in Bangladesh Cha Sramik Union that no agreement between the two parties was signed in due time. However, in the absence of any agreement, the owners increased wages by Taka 2.5 as an interim arrangement. What is important to note here is that BCSU in its charter of demands placed to the owners have demanded increase of wages by up to 100%, but the owners increased it by Taka 2 every two years, which the BCSU accepted in the end. The newly elected leadership (in 2008) of the BCSU, in its charter of demands of 2009, demanded that the cash pay of the daily rated workers be increased to Tk.90.00 from Tk.32.50. It is yet to be seen how the employers respond to the demands of BCSU.

Fringe benefits other than houses include some allowances, attendance incentive, rations, access to khet land for production of crop (those accessing such land have their rations slashed), medical care, provident fund, pension, etc. BTA calculates the cumulative total daily wage of a worker at Tk.73. The newly elected leaders in BCSU have a different calculation, which is lower than that of BTA.

For a long time, The Tea Plantations Labour Ordinance, 1962 and The Tea Plantation Labour Rules, 1977 defined the welfare measures of the tea plantation workers among other things. In 2006 these laws along with other labour related laws (25 in total) were annulled and a new labour law, Bangladesh Labour Act 2006, was introduced. The tea plantation workers were brought under this Act. The new Act has fixed the minimum wages of industrial workers at Tk. 1,500 (US$22). The tea plantation workers, who got lower wages in cash than this minimum wages, raised their voices for an increased cash pay. They were turned down. In a letter dated 20 July 2008 the Deputy Director of Labour, Tea-industry Labour Welfare Department in Srimangal, Maulvibazar announced, “the minimum wages announced in the gazette was not for the workers in the tea gardens.” The letter also mentioned that “the government has already formed a separate wage board to determine the wages for the tea workers and the issue of minimum wages is under consideration.” It is yet to be seen how the wage board makes progress in its work.

If compared with wages of the Indian tea workers, the wages of Bangladeshi tea plantation workers is much lower. In Darjeeling, Terai and Doars of West Bengal in India the daily wages of a tea plantation worker was Rs.53.90 in 2008. The wages, increased in three steps, will reportedly become Rs.67 in 2011. Strong labor movements have been instrumental in such wage increase. In West Bengal about 400,000 workers will get this increased wages. Compared to the Bangladeshi tea plantation workers, the Indian workers also get a better deal in accessing fringe benefits such as rations, medical care, housing, education, provident fund benefits, bonus, and gratuity. What puzzles one is that the auction of prices of tea in Bangladesh is high compared to the international auction prices while its production cost is comparatively lower than other tea producing countries (India, Sri Lanka and Kenya for example). Of course the productivity of tea per unit in Bangladesh is lower compared to those countries. Many believe that there is no justification for low wages of the tea plantation workers in Bangladesh. They deserve much higher wages.

The work condition of the tea workers who spend most of their working time under the scorching sun or getting soaked in rains is a concern. A woman tealeaf picker spends almost all her working hours for 30 to 35 years standing before she retires. The working hours for the tealeaf pickers, mostly women, are usually from 8 AM to 5 PM [7-8 hours excluding break for lunch] from Monday to Saturday. Sunday is the weekly holiday. To earn some extra cash, the extra work brings additional grief.

PHOTO-PHILIP GAIN: Education, an important ladder for transformation of a community or society for betterment is at the root of the social exclusion of the tea workers. There are schools in the tea gardens. According to the Bangladesh Tea Board (2004), in 156 tea gardens (excluding those in Panchagarh) there were 188 primary schools with 366 teachers and 25,966 students. Given that the employers provide education, the government schools in the tea gardens are just a few. In the recent times, the NGOs run significant number of primary schools. The quality of education provided in these schools remains to be a concern. An overwhelming majority of the children of the tea plantation workers drop out from school before they can use education to step into other professions and thus they have to enter the tea gardens as laborers.

The tea communities are one of the most vulnerable people of Bangladesh. They deserve special attention of the State, not just equal treatment. But unfortunately they continue to remain socially excluded, low-paid, overwhel-mingly illiterate, deprived and disconnected. They have also lost their original languages in most part, culture, history, education, knowledge and unity. In the labour lines of a tea estate, they seem to be living in islands — isolated from the majority Bangali community who sometimes treat them as untouchables. Without fertilisation of minds, they have lost dignity in their lives. These are perfect conditions for the profiteers from the tea industry to continue exploitation of the tea workers. Deprived, exploited and alienated, the majority of the tea workers live an inhuman life.

The key questions to ponder: How longer will the tea communities stay confined to the labour lines? Will they continue to live as people without choice and entitlement to a land they have tilled for four generations? The employers probably want the status quo maintained for a steady supply of cheap labourers. But the tea communities, little more conscious now than before, want justice done to them. They want strategic services from the State and NGOs in the areas of education, nutrition and health, food security, water and sanitation, etc. They also want to see their languages, culture, and social identity protected.

Photo: PHILIP GAIN
Fearful of their future in an unknown country outside the tea gardens, the tea communities keep their voices down and stay content with meager amenities of life. As citizens of Bangladesh they are free to live anywhere in the country. But the reality is that many of the members of the tea communities have never stepped out of the tea gardens. An invisible chain keeps them tied to the tea gardens. Social and economic exclusion, dispossession and the treatment they get from their management and Bangali neighbours have rendered them to become captive labourers.

The government is showing the country a dream of a digital Bangladesh and changes in the lives of poor, marginal and Adivasi people. The tea plantation workers are not just poor, they are a particularly deprived marginal community in captive situation. They have limited scope to integrate with the people of the majority community and they face great difficulties in exploring livelihood options outside the tea gardens. The tea plantation workers want the State to address to address their case with care and translate its commitment to them providing political and human protection.

Philip Gain is the Director of Society for Environment and Human Development (SEHD).

Sidr and the Sundarbans.

by admin | Jan 1, 2008 | Newspaper Report

Philip Gain makes a painful visit to find the World Heritage Site devastated, though hope still flickers. FORUM, a monthly publication of The Daily Star January 2008 (Volume 3, Issue 1)

Philip Gain makes a painful visit to find the World Heritage Site devastated, though hope still flickers

A week after the cyclone, as we see the effet of the calamitous Sidr in some parts of the Sundarbans, we are pained. The greenery of the most majestic mangrove patch on earth has faded out. It looks brutally molested. The Sundarbans always takes hits from the violent Bay, but nobody has a memory of such damage that a cyclone and tidal surge has caused.

A month and half ago before the cyclone, I was in a group of seven photographers that spent ten days in the eastern part of the Sundarbans. We floated through the Sundarbans for all those days and nights. Our everyday trip in a small boat through the intricate web of nature, sometimes threatening to human life, was a real thrill.

With lower salinity level compared to the western part, this part with high vegetation is full of wildlife and other life forms. Roaring tigers, pugmarks in several places, flocks of deer and monkeys, coloured birds and snakes in hundreds, wild pigs, meadows, and columns of lush green vegetation — all remain sharp in my memory.

My memory was shaken when I went back to the cyclone-devastated eastern part of the Sundarbans on November 23. We had already known from newspaper reports quoting the sources in the Forest Department that “one-fourth” of the 6,017 sq. km. Sundarbans has been badly hit by winds of 250 km per hour and a 5-metre tidal surge.

Our first stop to take a close look over the fate of a forest office is Harintana in Chandpai Range. We are appalled to see the impact of Sidr. The forest office, including the jetty, has been completely demolished. Bits and pieces of wood are scattered all over the office premises. A trawler has been thrown up on the ground from the canal by the tidal surge. The trees have been twisted, broken, and the green leaves all gone. We find a few Forest Department (FD) employees of the station on their patrol boat.

“The winds, rain, and waves lasted for hours. We boarded our patrol boat and took refuge in a canal. We survived 10-12 feet high waves,” says FD boatman Md. Idris Alam. The FD staff of this office had been living on the patrol boat since the cyclone day. They don’t go on the ground for fear of the unknown, including tiger attack.

As we move further down, we are deeply shocked at the devastation caused to the mangroves, a natural shield for human habitation against winds and tidal surges. Had the forest not been there, the cyclone could have been deadly for the nearby towns — Khulna, Mongla, and Bagerhat. The forests took the brunt of the winds and tidal surges, and saved these towns from severe devastation. Experts believe that the forest will gradually recover. But if the cyclone had hit these towns, the economic fallout would have been much more calamitous.

We take a look at the forest office at Tiar Char only to find the office destroyed and deserted. What remains of the office are the cracked walls. The roofs, windows, and doors have blown away. The trees are broken and twisted. Everything looks burned down. We don’t have the courage to land.

We head for Kokilmoni with the same devastation on the both sides of the river. As we come near to the forest office at Kokilmoni, we see just one deer and one wild pig. We spent a night and a morning at Kokilmoni a month and half ago during our 10 day trip to the Sundarbans. Kokilmoni office premises is known for deer. We saw scores of deer in flocks then. In the morning as we took to a narrow canal in our small boat, we had a terrifying experience. We came across a roaring tiger. We did not see the tiger although it was some 50 feet away from us in the bush. The tiger was shaking the jungle every time it roared. It was mating season for the tigers and the roaring one was probably inviting a partner. As we had been hoping that the tiger would cross the canal, we saw a vine snake on mangrove shrub basking in the sunny morning. It was terrific to be so deep into nature

The cyclone has undoubtedly wiped out large quantities of deer, snakes, insects, wild pigs, and many other life forms.

The damage to Kokilmoni forest office has been massive. There is no sign of the jetty. The roofs, windows, and doors of the office building have been blown away. Finding the office premises uninhabitable, the FD employees have deserted it. We find some ten fishermen’s boat. Some of them were at Kokilmoni during the nightmare. Three boats and six nets have been washed away from here. However, no one died. The fishermen took refuge in the canal and were lucky enough to have survived the winds and tidal surge by holding on to the trees.

Our launch anchors at Kokilmoni to wait for the ebbing tide. Our next destination is Dublar Char, which actually encompasses 11 pancake shaped low-lying islands. Next morning as we approach Dublar Char we are dismayed to see broken, twisted, and uprooted trees. We see no tree standing with green leaves on the banks of the channels. We see a few sea gulls and eagles, but no other birds. The cyclone has rendered the forest barren and silent. We see the forest office at Office Killa in Dublar Char from a distance. The tin-shed house on concrete structure is still standing. As we go closer, we see that all the doors and windows and the tin-shed roof of the office building have been thoroughly torn apart. The walls are fractured. A wooden house on its right has been washed away.

There is a cyclone shelter at Office Killa. Md. Alauddin, acting in-charge of the Dublar Char forest office, still in trepidation, narrates: “Some 700 people took refuge in the L-shaped cyclone shelter. The winds began to flow at about 5:00 pm. The strongest ones hit at about 9:30 pm. The big wave that lasted for hardly 15 minutes almost flooded the first floor of the shelter. Had the water stayed for another ten minutes, the cyclone shelter would have collapsed. It was shaking as water hit and receded.” We find the base pillars of the cyclone shelter cracked.

A mosque on the side of the cyclone shelter has been completely destroyed and washed away.

Md. Osman, a fish worker took refuge in the mosque. “As the water began to flow into the mosque, I managed to climb on the nearby cyclone shelter. My companion, who also tried to reach the cyclone shelter, was washed away by the strong wave. We later found him dead,” says Osman.

Photo: Philip Gain

Md. Abul Quashem, a caretaker of the Cyclone Preparedness Program of Bangladesh Red Crescent Society in Dublar Char, tells his experience of the cyclone. “We have our wireless facility in Office Killa cyclone shelter. We blew siren and invited people to come to safety. The fishermen did not want to come leaving behind their boats, nets, and dried fish. Many took refuge in the canals with their boat. Most of them have perished,” says Abul Quashem.

The fish workers who did not take refuge at the cyclone shelter became the worst victims. “In Dublar Char, we have known that 201 people have died,” reports Quashem.

According to Quashem, there were 19 bohoddars (fish traders) in Majher Killa and Office Killa alone. Each bohoddar brought between 80 and 150 individuals for fishing and its trade. During the cyclone, there lived 2,500 fishermen in Majher Killa and Narikelbari alone, and 20,000 in the entire Dublar Char area.

“The bohoddars are not giving actual numbers of people missing. Majority among the missing are dolabhanga (individuals who sort out fish and get a share),” claims Quashem. Dolaghangas are said to be collected from rail stations, slums, and streets of the cities. Dolabhangas did not come to the cyclone shelters, which also did not have enough space for them, even though they wished to come. This group of labourers in the fish drying centres died in great numbers.

As we reach Shelar Char, we find a cyclone shelter and a few boats and trawler anchored. The fishers are busy repairing their nets, boats, and temporary makeshift houses. More than 2,000 fishermen lived here for fishing in the open bay.

Many of the fishermen we see here survived the cyclone. Some took shelter in the cyclone shelter. “A big number risked their lives in the canals. I survived by holding a tree,” said Md. Isaboli Hawladar from Pirojpur who works under bohoddar Md. Aiyub Ali. The fishers got signal of the cyclone, but many did not pay much attention to it and others did not have time to make it to the cyclone shelter.

Khalil, Surat Hawlader, and Monir from Pirojpur took shelter on a keora tree. Most of the boats anchored in the canal of Shelar Char were lost. Many fishermen perished with their trawlers.

Katka stands lifeless
Our launch navigates through the open Bay from Shelar Char. Hard to believe that this serene bay becomes so cruel. Now we see the Sundarbans from quite a distance. However, the line of trees merging with the waters seems to have been burned down.

Photo: Philip Gain

As we go near to Katka, we are shocked to see how the forest has become lifeless. Katka is one of the best-known wildlife sanctuaries and an attractive tourist spot. The forest office here has always been lively with a column of forest office buildings, guesthouses and visitors. It’s a spot where one would see deer in hundreds, wild pigs, birds, monkeys, and, if lucky enough, a tiger.

It is hard to recognise the mouth of Boyer Khal (canal) on the east of Katka FD office. We took a boat ride through this canal on October 3 this year. For me it was an experience that will never disappear from my memory. Everything was deep green. Keora and many other trees were full of green leaves and fruits — food for birds, monkeys, deer, and millions of other creatures. The song of mangrove whistler and other birds, flocks of monkeys and deer, white-bellied sea eagle and open-billed stork (shamukkhol) flying above filled our minds and hearts with complete joy. As we went deep into the forest, we always kept our binoculars and eyeballs pointed at different directions in search of a tiger. We always stayed alert about the snakes. We, indeed, spotted some venomous snakes from our constant vigilance. All these wildlife seem to have vanished.

We land at Katka forest office barefoot, because the jetty has been destroyed. What we see goes beyond description. The wooden houses have no trace. The concrete houses have been piled into debris. The column of beautification trees — jhaw, coconut, and others in front of the forest office has been broken, twisted, and blown from here to there. The forest around the office, a haven for the deer, wild pigs, and the birds, has become lifeless with twisted and broken trees.

A month and half ago, when we spent a few nights at Katka, every morning we woke up to see hundreds of deer feeding on keora leaves, madantak and many other birds feeding on muddy slope of the river banks during the ebbing tide. Some wild pigs could be sighted in the morning and the evening. We walked a mile into the forest in the hope of tracing a tiger. Although we could not trace one, we found fresh pugmarks. It was terrific.

What the cyclone has done to this heaven of wildlife looks like the aftermath of a total war. The trees have lost their leaves and branches. A great number of trees have fallen on the ground. There were two palm trees named king and queen. The queen was twisted and uproot and flown some 100 metres away. The base of the king and queen looked burned.

There were five FD employees at Katka during the night of November 15. All of them miraculously survived the winds and waves. But many unlucky fishermen in rivers and canals were missing.

Ray of hope
We head from Katka to Kachikhali, another haven for wildlife. It is afternoon. Everything glows in golden sunshine. It is time of the day to see some unique creatures that might suddenly emerge from the forest.

We are not disappointed although we cut through the devastated Sundarbans. As we take to a narrow canal, we sight a masked finfoot. A bird watcher is always excited to sight this rare and endangered solitary duck.

From the narrow canal, we enter a big river. Now we head for Kachikhali. We see some greenery. It is soothing. We see a large crocodile, basking in the evening sunshine. It is ebbing tide, time for crocodiles to relax on the muddy slope of the riverbank. A few birds are roaming around it. The fat crocodile seems to have no appetite.

We move forward. Now we see more life — monkeys and deer feeding on the molested, vegetation. We feel assured that the animals have a chance. We reach Kachikhali shortly. Dimer Char or Egg Island, about one km south into the sea from Kachikhali shore, is an attraction to the birders. Dimer Char still been hit hard by the winds and waves. Three fishermen died in this island. They perished with their boat. Eleven fishermen survived.

During our last visit before the cyclone, we took a boat-ride along a canal that cuts through the island. Full of green vegetation, mostly keora and understory, the forest looked virgin and a heaven of birds.

As we venture to see what has happened to the Kachikhali forest office, we feel sorry. When we came here last September, we had a comfortable landing by a well-built jetty. That has been completely destroyed. We land barefoot. All but one building have collapsed. Trees have fallen down. Not only the roofs of the houses have blown away, the concrete walls have fallen apart as well.

Heaven for deer and hunting ground for tiger, the lush green meadow with a carpet of sun grass and kash (thatch grass) has become miserable. We can imagine what may have happened to the wildlife in this area that merges with the bay. Darkness begins to fall and we board our launch. The full moon emerges over Dimer Char. The sea is quiet. No noise of wave. We see just one small fishing trawler on the shore. There is none in the sea. No dancing light. Our launch moves back as the night falls.

Recovery
Estimating the extent of damage to the Sundarbans is a difficult task. That one-fourth of the Sundarbans has been severely damaged as the FD officials initially guesstimated and that in monetary terms the damage is worth Tk 1,000 crore, has been highly disputed by knowledgeable sources.

There is no denial of the fact that the web of nature has been seriously disrupted in the areas hit. “There are some 280 species of birds in this unique mangroves” says Ronald Halder, an ornithologist and filmmaker who has been visiting the Sundarbans since 1992.

Sundarbans is also an extremely valuable sanctuary for snakes. “The bird and snake population must have been heavily harmed in the cyclone hit areas,” says Halder. “Insect population is huge in the Sundarbans. Now the songs of the insects are heard much less.”

During stay in the Sundarbans in September and October, insects in thousands swooped around the light of our launch. After the cyclone, no insect bothered us. Although there is no known work of entomologists in the Sundarbans, it is not difficult to understand the immense damage caused to the insect population.

“The way the trees have broken down and the green leaves destroyed, the wildlife and insects, dependent on trees, have died in great numbers. All sources of fresh water have been damaged in the cyclone-hit areas. This will affect the wildlife and fish population,” says wildlife photographer Sirajul Hossain.

A serious concern also arises from the destruction of the FD offices. A few offices we have visited have been thoroughly destroyed. This shows the flimsiness of the infrastructure in the Sundarans areas.

However, the guesstimate on damages that the FD initially aired was pretty much speculative and not well thought out. While speculations cannot always be rejected, “we must keep in mind that we do not have enough knowledge about the intricacies of the Sundarbans,” cautions Halder.

Photo: Munir uz Zaman/ DRIKNEWS

The measures that the authorities and even some experts had initially suggested made environmentalists very concerned. For example, the chief conservator of forests was reported suggesting cleaning the debris (fallen trees and leaves) from the forest floor and to go for enrichment planting in the affected areas. According to newspaper reports, one expert had even suggested removing sand that has covered the breathing shoots of mangrove trees. Many raised their concern at such suggestions.

Thanks to the one-year government ban on harvest of trees in the Sundarbans — fallen or standing — reportedly taken in an inter-ministerial meeting on December 5. In his observation made in a newspaper article, Hasan Mansur, who has frequented the Sundarbans for the last three decades, cautions that there lacks objective reporting on the damage to the Sundarbans. He thinks that five to ten percent of the mangroves have been damaged. He believes the Sundarbans will recover automatically. There is no need for human interference.

There are many others who concur with Mansur and suggest that there is no need for removing the fallen trees, leaves, and the sand that may have covered the breathing shoots of the trees. Let the leaves and fallen trees rot and fertilise the forest floor. The enormous amount of seeds that will still be spreading by the next season will automatically regenerate the forest. Green leaves will also spring up from what seem to be dead stands. We must remember that we are dealing with nature. We know little of nature and must not try to control it.

What we need at this troubled time is proper assessment building up to a national strategy to nurture the unique forest. Given that Sundarbans is a world heritage site announced by Unesco, the world body needs to define the global responsibility, and perhaps, lend a helping hand.

One important endnote: Now that we better understand the force of nature, the FD needs the kind of infrastructure that can withstand strong winds and waves and give protection to those who are allowed into the forests. A large number of fishermen, honey collectors, and harvesters of nypa palm are dependent on the Sundarbans. A special rehabilitation program is required for these people so that they do not rush towards the forest in search of their meagre necessities.

Philip Gain is an environmental activist.