Smuggling to combat starvation
Displaced by the raging Padma river, Jalangi's people beg, toil as landless labourers, or smuggle rice and other goods to Bangladesh for one meal a day. Several villagers have reportedly starved to death. Local politicians and goons are accused of cornering the relief material. A special investigation
During the months of May, June and July, when the monsoon sets in, the river Padma flows in full spate. And the result is devastating for those living along its eroded embankments in Jalangi, Murshidabad district, West Bengal.
Jalangi, situated 50 km east of Berhampur district headquarters in Murshidabad, along the western banks of the Padma, divides India and Bangladesh. This predominantly Muslim and dalit region was earmarked for East Pakistan until the British changed the partition plans at the last minute in 1947. The present Jalangi is a resettlement town as the old Jalangi, swallowed by the river, now lies beneath the water's surface.
Even a decade ago, the India-Bangladesh border was around 4-5 km from the village; the Padma was the dividing line between the two countries. But this distance has decreased so much that several other villages too have now become vulnerable.
Thanks to continuous erosion of the river's embankments and constant changes in the river's course, all cultivable land has been converted into sandbeds and houses and cattle have been destroyed.
Jalangi is a seven-and-a-half-hour bus ride from Kolkata. When we reach we travel along the coast where villagers have built huts bearing the names of villages that have been swallowed up by the river. Displaced villagers have, over the years, been pushed to the brink of starvation.
After losing everything to the Padma they now have no options. They can either beg or toil on someone else's farm as agricultural labourer. This too is not certain. If the villagers are fortunate, they earn enough for one square meal a day. Most of the children suffer from night blindness caused by lack of vitamin A.
Since February 2005, several confirmed starvation deaths have been reported in the region. We visited a number of villages -- Dayarampur, Dairepara, Ghoshpara, Farazipara, Hoggledaire, Muradpur, Noadapara, Gauripur, Bhanganpara, Schoolpara, etc.
In Dayarampur village, which was declared a 'model village' by West Bengal Chief Minister Buddhadeb Bhattacharya, we meet Jahan Ara Bewa and her skinny granddaughter Rupali, who clings to her. Her husband Hazrat Mollah and mother Afizan Bewa allegedly died of starvation in September 2005. Crying helplessly, she tells me: "After losing my husband and mother I have to beg and feed my daughter, Nargissa, granddaughter and myself. Nargissa's husband Ripon has no work. My daughter and granddaughter have not eaten for three days. People have nothing to give as the rampant Padma has gobbled up everything. I am living on Samir Sarkar's land. I have not been issued any BPL card. Rather, we have been threatened and asked to keep quiet before the media, even if we are starving, by the Ghoshpara gram panchayat."
Alauddin Sheikh, who works as an agricultural labourer, lost his father Alimuddin Sheikh and mother Zaheda Bewa reportedly due to starvation, in February 2005. Alauddin Sheikh says: "My abba (father) lost his home due to the erosion caused by the river Padma and then took to begging. My ammi (mother) Zaheda Bewa died five days later."
With us is Gopen Sharma, a human rights activist and avid campaigner for victims of starvation. He says: "Rendered penniless by the erosion, Alimuddin Sheikh took to begging. But who could give alms when the villagers have lost everything? Alimuddin and Zaheda Bewa begged but we could not even feed them once a day. Their daughter-in-law, Golenur Biwi, joined the male brigade of labourers carrying earth to construct a village road, a project under the Swarnajayanti Gram Rozgar Yojana (SGRY) (Golden Jubilee Village Employment Scheme) carried out by the Ghoshpara gram panchayat in Jalangi. But none of the villagers were paid for their labour, due to problems with the 'paymaster' who deals with government payments at the panchayat level."
Alauddin confirms: "My wife thought that her labour would help my father and mother survive. But her dues -- Rs 32 and 7 kg of rice -- were held up. Rs 30 and 6,700 grams of rice, as each day's wages, were released after reduction of Rs 2 and 300 grams of rice as party levy."
"After reports of Alimuddin's death were carried in a daily newspaper, the district administration acted quickly and got the dying wife, Zaheda, admitted at a government-run hospital in Sadikhan'daier in Jalangi. But it was too late. Her body developed friction-induced bruises caused by writhing in hunger on the earthen veranda of her hut. Underfed for months, Zaheda suffered liver malfunction and died five days after her husband died," says Sharma.
Maneka Mandal, who lost her 16-year-old son Gadal in December 2004, tells us her story. "After going hungry for many days, my son ate limestone paste thinking it was curd. My husband Sasti Mandal died of tuberculosis. My son Ramen works as an agricultural labourer and another son, Rathin, works in Berhampur. He used to work in Surat (Gujarat). We have never received any government assistance. The block development officer promised me assistance of Rs 20,000, but I have still not got a single paisa from him. Although it's difficult to even arrange one meal a day, many families like ours have not been provided a ration card under any welfare scheme, like the Antyodaya or Annapoorna scheme."
Saiful Shah, another 'erosion victim' and All India Forward Bloc functionary, says: "My uncle Ummat Ali Shah, died heartbroken in October 2005 after losing 30 bighas of land and a mango and jackfruit garden to the river. My father, who had 30 bighas of land is now left with one-and-a-half bighas. I have to feed eight members of my family."
Shah alleges that CPI (M) functionaries in the village are cornering all the relief material meant for the starving population under various schemes.
Shyamolie Haldar, whose five-year-old son Bipanna Haldar died, begins to cry when asked about his death. She says: "We were unable to feed our two sons. Bipanna, the youngest one, used to scrounge around for food on the earthen floor. Five days before he died, his stomach swelled as it was found that he had been eating dirt. He died on March 2005. Still, even one meal a day is a luxury for us. We have not received any government assistance yet. Instead, the Ghoshpara gram panchayat tried to silence us into submission. They said I had no right to voice my woes to Gopen Sharma or Manavadhikar Suraksha Mancha (MASUM), so I would not get any relief."
In the village we meet Sanjeev Karmakar, who used to run a blacksmith shop that was swallowed by the river, along with all the equipment, on September 10, 2005 . Sanjeev's father Gurupadha Karmakar was inconsolable and could not come to terms with the loss. He died on September 13, just three days after the event. Broken and penniless, Sanjeev cries like a child. "The river Padma gobbled up everything that belonged to us. Now we are forced to live on others' land and work as agricultural labourers. My father had a last wish -- that his body be immersed in the river Padma. I tied his corpse to some boulders and drowned it in the river. We got a polythene sheet to cover our roof and a few kilograms of rice as relief. During the winters, we shiver throughout the night as we have only one blanket for our nine-member family. We have no food or money, but have to toil hard in the fields or beg for relief."
In Ghoshpara (Sarvapalli) village, 40-year-old Neksad Ali Mollah died on April 16, 2005, after a long battle with starvation. Penniless and landless, his widow Nujera Bewa languishes in poverty. Although it's been nine months since her husband's death she says she has received no relief from the panchayat. Her 12-year-old daughter Bulbul Khatun, who studies in the fifth standard, has started working as a domestic maid before she goes to school. Her son, Rubbel Mollah, and youngest daughter, Sonia, stare at their mother's weeping face.
Nujera Bewa says: "My husband was suffering from bronchial asthma. He was afflicted by this chronic ailment five years ago. He was the sole breadwinner of the family. But his breathlessness forced him to stay indoors. He was incapacitated, and when his breathlessness became very bad he was administered an injection. I was forced to beg and arrange money for his treatment. But before his death I could not provide him with food and medicine. I begged from door to door, but could not save my husband."
When asked whether the panchayat had offered any relief, she says: "I approached Mokshad Sheikh, a member of the gram panchayat and a CPI (M) functionary for relief. But he responded by saying that stocks were over, come some other time. I even requested Santosh Roy, pradhan of the panchayat for relief, but he turned me down."
A few people did get a few days work under the National Food For Work Programme (NFFWP) launched by the district administration in April 2005. But they allege they had to cough up money and rice to fill the coffers of the CPI (M).
Bhuvan Chandra Mandal, an erosion victim living in resettled Udaynagar colony and an ex-CPI (M) panchayat functionary, says: "We have lost everything to the devouring Padma river. Even while doling out relief to the victims, a certain amount is extorted from their wages. It is being done to collect party levy. See how shamelessly they are doing it. They do not think even for a moment about the poor villagers. If anyone dares oppose such extortion drives in the name of collecting party funds, they either lose their wages or put them on hold for two to three weeks. They are even denied work under the NFFWP. Victims rendered penniless by the uncontrollable river erosion have no option but to submit to the diktat of the CPI (M)."
When we ask Santosh Roy, panchayat pradhan and senior CPI (M) functionary, about relief to the starving families and the collection of party levy from the poor villagers, he says: "It's all propaganda by the media and disgruntled elements to destabilise the CPI (M). Nobody has died of starvation. If these are starvation deaths then there are such deaths in many parts of the country. We do not take this seriously. It's usual -- like it happens in Kalahandi in Orissa. In Kalahandi, starvation victims do not get any relief. So how do people expect there to be relief for starving families in our area? We have not collected any party funds from the poor victims."
When I discuss the callous and unsympathetic attitude of CPI (M) functionaries in the panchayat, Faijuddin Biswas, an erosion victim and social activist who lives in Dayarampur village and is popularly called 'Faij kaka', says: "The government is totally indifferent to our plight. Its functionaries and supporters in the panchayat are appropriating all the relief material meant for the erosion victims. The villagers, whose lands and homesteads lie under the waters of the Padma have to either starve, beg, toil on other people's farms or get involved in cross-border smuggling."
Smuggling to survive
Crossing the Padma river in a crowded boat, we reach the char (sandbed). A 15 km walk takes us to Taltoli Char. This ' char land' is home to around 560 families that were settled here amidst controversy. The land earlier belonged to the villagers of Biswaspara, Jaykrishnapur, Muradpur and Udaynagar.
Villagers resettled in the char live in abject poverty, without even basic facilities like water, electricity, schools, roads, shops, etc. Still, block development officer Nakul Chandra Mahato declares he will turn it into a 'model village'.
Serious erosion had converted all the cultivable land in the area into stretches of sand. The farmers work hard to cultivate in the sandy soil. Safdar Mandal, whose land and home were drowned, now lives on char land. "I have a quarter bigha of land where I grow rice and smuggle it into Bangladesh ," he says.
Fourteen-year-old Rubbel Mandal says: "I have dropped out of school as it is impossible to continue studying on an empty stomach. Most of the children living in char zameen (sandy land) have left school. You see them carrying bags full of rice and other items on their heads to the India-Bangladesh border. They sell one kilo of rice for 15 Bangladeshi taka. They earn Rs 10 a day."
Quddus Mandal explains: "For most of the families living here one square meal a day is a luxury." With no BPL or ration cards, Manora Bibi says: "We have to buy kerosene in the black market at Rs 25 a litre. The ration shop sells it at Rs 9.50 a litre. Recently, my son had diarrhoea and died. He could have been saved had there been a dispensary in our area. When anyone has any ailment, they have to walk 10-15 km, then cross the river and be taken to Sadikhandewar hospital by bicycle, bus or trolley. In the night, a patient either dies or waits till 7 am when the boat starts operating. The boatman carries only smuggled items like cows, buffaloes, goats, ginger, onion, cough syrup, etc during the night, for which he is paid a hefty sum by the smugglers who take the items to Bangladesh ."
As we talk, we see Ingraz Mandal running with his bicycle laden with four to five sacks of rice. We stop and ask him where he is taking the rice. After much persuasion, he says: "I smuggle rice to Bangladesh to earn a living. I purchase the rice at Rs 9.50 per kg from the market and get 20-22 Bangladeshi taka. If I sell 20 kg of rice to a Bangladeshi, I get 400 Bangladeshi taka, which, exchanged for Indian currency is Rs 268. My profit is Rs 78, out of which Rs 20 goes in bribing the BSF jawan and the customs officials. Rs 5 goes to the majhi (boatman). I earn only Rs 53 for all the difficulties I go through. There is even the risk of being killed."
Krishna Sarkar, who used to live in Udaynagar Khanda Mauza, says: "We are living a dog's life. We have neither basic facilities nor a source of livelihood. Three years go my daughter tied a rope around her neck and committed suicide. Pushed to poverty, we purchase rice and vegetables from Raipara haat and sell it on the border. From the border we buy many items like saris , diesel, soap, etc, at cheap prices and sell them at Jalangi market."
Returning to take the boat across the river, we meet six-year-old Heetu Mandal carrying a bag full of rice on his head. When we ask him where he is headed, he replies: "I will sell the rice at the border and get Rs 10." Accompanying Heetu is his seven-year-old sister Sulekha Khatoon. We ask her what she is carrying on her head and she says: "I am coming from school at Dakshin Ghoshpara. I study in the second standard. I am carrying rice, which I will sell at the border and earn some money for the family."
Ten-year-old Nazrul Mandal says: "Now I am carrying kerosene that I purchased from the market. I will sell it at the border. In the morning I purchased diesel from a Bangladeshi and sold it at Raipara haat ."
We reach Raipara village and embark. We see the dalal (agent) of a big smuggler issuing coupons to people carrying loads on their heads, and putting the stuff in the boat. When we ask what the coupons are, the man runs away.
We are then introduced to Brindaban Saha, member of the CPI (M) Jalangi local committee. He too carries bundles of Indian and Bangladeshi money, openly exchanging Rs 67 for 100 Bangladeshi taka.
I ask Krishnapada Shil, who lives in Raipara village and works in a teashop, about the cross-border smuggling and he says: "Some years ago, I too was a smuggler. This activity has been going on at the West Bengal-Bangladesh border for many years, and the BSF is closely involved.
(Tarun Bose is a senior journalist who has been covering development issues for years)
InfoChange News & Features, May 2006



