loader

Dionne Bunsha is an award winning journalist and humanitarian author. She has written extensively on a diverse range of human rights, social justice, and environmental issues

Featured Stories

  • The Holes in our Chappals

    The Holes in our Chappals

    June 30, 20070 Comments
    Farmers are killing themselves in Gujarat too. But Chief Minister Narendra Modi would like us to believe that they are driving around in cars. DIONNE BUNSHA Amreli, Gujarat

    Pahubhai Dakhada, 35, preferred death to a life of debt. His suicide didn't make it to the government's records. Photo: Dionne Bunsha

    “Gujarat’s farmers aren’t like those in other states. Our farmers drive Maruti cars,” chief minister Narendra Modi declares in his speeches at public meetings. If he met the widows of farmers in Gujarat who have committed suicide, he would probably choke on his words. Prabhaben Pungalpara was at her sister’s house when her husband Ramesh hung himself from a noose and ended his misery. He probably sent her there to soften the blow. Ramesh’s relatives rushed him to Rajkot hospital but it was too late. Now, Prabhaben’s nightmare was about to begin. “I have two girls and a boy. We will have to manage somehow. I sold off our two buffaloes after he died. My son has gone to Surat to work in a diamond polishing workshop. Ramesh’s brothers have taken care of us,” says Prabhaben from Sarapdar village. Ramesh and his four brothers have a 20–acre farm. “Our cotton and jeera crop failed for two years, so he was very tense,” said his brother Amarsibhai. But the police report says that he killed himself because of a family dispute. “The first police report said that he died because his crop failed, but later the police changed the story,” says Prabhaben. “They told me ‘you have such a big house, there must be some other reason for the suicide. If we give compensation in one case, people will start killing themselves and we will have to give them all’. The police just want to suppress the case.” “If the government can help Maharashtra’s widows, then why can’t they help women in Gujarat?” asks Prabhaben. Maybe because it would shatter the chief minister’s delusions? Across Gujarat farmers’ suicides are either unreported or wrongly reported. Ironically, the people raising a voice against this is the Bharatiya Kisan Sangh (BKS), the farmer’s wing of the ruling BJP. “The state is hiding the truth about the rising number of farmers’ suicides,” Praful Sanjelia, Gujarat president of the BKS said at a press conference recently. “While the government has declared there were 148 farmers suicides last year, we estimate that there are around 300,” he said. Sanjelia said the police are deliberately concealing the suicides. “The police are not registering an FIR, so many cases go unreported. If they do file a case, they attribute the reasons for the suicide to social tension and domestic disputes. Actually, it is a farmer’s financial crisis that could cause other problems like fights in the family.” “There are several police reports that say the person was ill and by mistake swallowed pesticide instead of medicine. That’s the ridiculous things they do to disguise the true number of farmers suicides,” says Vinubhai Dudheet, a BKS leader in Amreli. “We are very angry with the BJP government and have launched several campaigns against their policies. They have done nothing for farmers. Instead, now they want to give off our land to industrialists for Special Economic Zones (SEZs).”

    Pahubhai Dakhada's wife Vajuben has to run the family from the confines of her house because widows in her community should not be seen in public. Photo: Dionne Bunsha

    But why is the BKS going against their own government? They first rebelled against the Modi’s BJP government when their founder and RSS pracharak, Laljibhai Patel, camped on the banks of the Sabarmati in Ahmedabad on a hunger strike when the state doubled power tariffs. Since then, the BKS has been on the wrong side of the chief minister. “Most BKS activists used to benefit from being aligned to the ruling party. They had clout with the local administration and used to get contracts etc. Now, it’s not so easy after they have fallen out of favour. So they too have an axe to grind with Modi,” said a local journalist, explaining the split in the Sangh Parivar’s ranks. The BKS cadre are from the core constituency of the Sangh, basically traders and big landlords. Most of them have businesses ranging from sand mining to stone crushing to hotels. But raising the issues of farmers is crucial to keeping their local political support and clout. That’s why they are doing their best to bring farmers’ concerns into focus and embarrass the government. Whatever the political motives of the BKS, there is no doubt that small farmers in Gujarat are in distress.

    Besides the police, families too have not reported suicides of their loved ones. Many widows are scared of dealing with police. “Though his suicide was reported in the newspaper, I didn’t report it to the police. I didn’t want to be harassed. They demand money and I didn’t have any,” said Vajuben Dhakhada (30) from Vadli village, whose husband Pahubhai (35) died on 12 July 2006. “In the past two years, our crop was destroyed. We had a debt of Rs 50,000. He kept worrying about how we would look after three small kids with no money and no crop in the field.”

    Now, Vajuben depends totally on her relatives for help. By killing herself, her husband confined her to a life of isolation from society. She is a darbar (Rajput) and as a widow, is not allowed to leave the confines of her home, not even to fill water from the well. Her three young children help her with errands outside their home.

    In the same village (Vadli), Prassanben, the wife of Anakbhai Dhakada (32) who killed himself on 7 April 2007, has a similar story to tell. She too is in purdah and cannot leave the house. But luckily, she lives in a joint family. And like Vajuben, she was too afraid to have anything to do with the police. When contacted by Frontline, agriculture minister Bhupendra Singh Chudasama said, “Not a single farmer in Gujarat has committed suicide.” This contradicts his government’s statistic of 148. “The reason for those suicides are family problems. People have many marriages in their families. It is not the government’s responsibility,” he said. Often, farmers who are heavily in debt worry about how the expenses of getting their children married. Most of them are in a crippling financial crisis because agriculture is no longer profitable. Production costs are increasing, while the prices at which farmers have to sell their harvest are not as lucrative. Their loans and interest burden increase every year, until they finally drown in debt. The elders of the Kakane family decided to drown themselves in the sea. Vallabh (80), his son Mansukh (40) and their respective wives went to the beach near Somnath and drowned themselves on 3 November 2006. Now their house in Pania Dev village is locked and abandoned. Mansukh’s three sons went off to Surat in search of work. “This tragedy happened because they had run up a huge debt with the moneylender,” said their nephew Nilesh. They borrowed Rs 1.5 lakh at an interest rate of 60% to pay off their power bills. The moneylender was demanding Rs 12 lakh including interest. They offered him their land but he was not willing to take it.”

    Grieving relatives of the Kakane family, whose four elder members committed suicide by drowning in the sea off Somnath as a way out of the clutches of the moneylender. Photo: Dionne Bunsha

    “They were under so much pressure that they couldn’t even eat properly. They would sit here in my parents’ house and ask them what to do,” said Nilesh. “Almost half the village is in the grip of the moneylender. They give a loan and then they take everything. Farming is not profitable anymore. The price we get for cotton is not as much as the rise in input costs or the price of living, so we are forced to borrow.” The most industrialised state, ‘Vibrant Gujarat’, seems more feudal than modern. “The moneylender inflicts terror in the village,” said Nilesh. “They have taken away a Harijan’s home after he borrowed Rs 5,000. But no one will dare to speak. They will even pretend this mass suicide in my family never happened. The moneylenders are thugs and they have the police on their side.” “Not a single small farmer is doing well. We are all starving. If farmers start doing accounts, we will all leave the farms,” said Kanubhai Ganniya, a farmer with five acres in Malak Nes village. “Many people are leaving the village or getting into other businesses. The cost of inputs like seeds, pesticides etc are rising every year. But the price of cotton does not increase as much.” Farmers estimate that they spend between Rs 7000 to 16000 per acre, but get around Rs 13,000-16,000 for their one-acre harvest. Until now, Gujarat was considered the rare cotton-growing state that was immune to farmers suicides. Now inflation and the unsustainable commercial mode of cultivation has affected them too. “Earlier, farmers only had to pay for seeds. Now they pay for everything – tractor, power, water, labour. Farming has become more cost-intensive and less viable,” said Dr Sudarshan Iyengar, Vice Chancellor, Gujarat Vidyapeeth. Compared to states, Gujarat has a high yield (three times that of Maharashtra, where suicide rates are highest). It also has 44% of cotton farms under irrigation, compared to 4% in Maharashtra, or 18% in Andhra Pradesh, where suicides are the highest. This improves yields and reduces risks. Here, like in Andhra Pradesh and Maharashtra, almost all cotton farmers use genetically-modified Bt seeds. These seeds are inserted with a bacteria that kills the bollworm, a common pest on cotton plants. You can’t find a non-Bt seed variety in any farm input shop here. However, many farmers use illegal home-bred versions of Bt seeds like Navbharat, which are cheaper than the Monsanto-MAHYCO Bollgard brand. While the environmental dangers of this illegal trade of seeds have not been studied, this home industry has reduced seed costs for Gujarat’s farmers in the short term. Yet, other costs like those of either buying water from borewells or paying for power etc have gone up, and prices haven’t kept pace. “One pair of jeans that weighs around 500 grams sells for Rs 1500-1700 in the designer stores, but we get only Rs 13 for 500 grams of cotton. Those who are processing get all the profit, not those who produce,” said Vinubhai. When I visited Malak Nes village, a group of farmers were eager to show me their chappals. They threw their chappals on the floor and told me, “Our chappals have gaping holes and are broken. Can you please send them to Narendra Modi? And ask him which farmer in Gujarat has a Maruti? We can’t even afford a new pair of chappals.” Frontline, June 2-15, 2007 Also available here
  • Cotton Aflame

    Cotton Aflame

    June 30, 20070 Comments
    The cotton harvest is ready. But the state hasn't yet opened most procurement centres. At the few that are functioning, farmers have been queueing up for days. The frustration has led to violence in Wani. By DIONNE BUNSHA in Yavatmal Finally cotton gets weighed at the Shindola procurement centre after farmers waited in queues for several days.Photo: Dionne Bunsha A fire was still smoldering under the burned papers and broken furniture in a room at Wani’s agricultural market office. The flame was alive, even three days after the fire was put out and police opened fire to disperse angry farmers who ransacked the office. Here in Vidarbha, Maharashtra’s cotton belt, the flames were fanned much before 8th December 2006, when the police fired on farmers in Wani. The state government started cotton procurement this month, delaying it by two months after the crop was harvested. In several places, procurement centres are yet to open. With their harvest ready for sale, farmers were restless. The queues piled up at the few places that have opened. One of them was Wani. “There were around 1,500 farmers were waiting in the cold with their bullock carts for four days. The state government’s cotton federation wasn’t buying all the cotton. Graders would clear one cart and by-pass the next four. Finally, farmers got angry with a Cotton Confederation of India (CCI) grader, Shukla, who refused to buy the cotton saying it was moist. They started fighting with him. He ran into our office and locked himself in. The farmers chased him, set fire and destroyed the office,” says Dr Moreshwar Pande, chairman of the Wani agricultural market committee. “Obviously, the farmers were livid. They were just asking for their rights.” Dr Pande’s organization has suffered the most, yet he is sympathetic to those who ransacked his office. “It was the fault of the CCI and the state cotton federation, but we had to bear the losses,” says Dr Pande, sitting amongst the ruins in the market yard. “In fact, were on the phone with a government official telling him that the procurement situation was bad and that they should enhance facilities when Shukla came running into the office.” The police was called in. Students from a nearby college joined the brawl. It became even more difficult to control. They fired twice to disperse the crowd. The riot spread to the town centre. Curfew was imposed for three days. Shukla really shook the town…and the state. It’s the first time that police have fired on farmers here, at a time when the agricultural crisis has reached tipping point. There have been 1,200 suicides reported since June 2005. Around 75 per cent of families (12.75 lakh households) in Vidarbha’s six districts are in distress, says a state survey. With around three to five suicides occurring everyday, bullets will not resolve the unrest. “What happened in Wani can happen again anywhere if the state doesn’t give us a fair price for our cotton, doesn’t grade it correctly and keeps making us wait for days on end,” said U.N. Sur, a farmer who had been waiting for three days at the Shindola procurement centre in Yavatmal with his three bullock carts. After the Wani tension, there has been a temporary reprieve. “They have stopped private traders from operating here, since there is not enough storage space for state purchasing. Within a day, see how fast they are clearing all the bullock carts. Earlier, they were just harassing us.” Unloading the cotton harvest after waiting for several days at the procurement centrePhoto: Dionne Bunsha “In this very yard, the private traders began buying cotton in October, but the government only started now,” said Namdev Nimkar, who had been waiting in the Shindola yard for six days. “If they had started sooner, there would not have been such a crowd. But the state doesn’t want to buy cotton. They want to keep us in the clutches of traders.” Currently, the state is procuring cotton at rates ranging from Rs 1,700 to 1,990 per quintal. Traders are buying at around Rs 1,800 to 1,850. When you agree to sell and unload the cart, they lower the price to Rs 1,750, and over that you have to pay them a commission. That’s why we prefer to sell to the government,” said Sur. Private traders have already bought 44.74 lakh quintals, while the state cotton federation has only procured six lakh quintals. “This is the game the traders are playing. They buy up all the good quality cotton and then leave it to the state to buy the lower quality and suffer the losses,” said Sudhir Goyal, divisional commissioner of Amravati. “The traders and corporate sector are to blame. They create a psychology of surplus and exhaust farmers till they accept a lower price. Why don’t the textile mills buy directly from farmers? The textile mill lobby is highly organized and makes sure they get cotton dirt cheap.” A metre of ordinary cheap cotton costs Rs 50, but the farmer gets only Rs 5 of this, he pointed out. “The clothes that we wear are stained by the blood of farmers,” Goyal said. “In Wani, farmers anger was not directed at us, but at the CCI and private traders. We are unnecessarily being blamed,” said Dr N.P. Hirani, chairman of the Maharashtra State Cotton Federation. “The farmers got angry because CCI does only selective purchasing. On that day in Wani, they purchased only 50 carts while 500 were waiting. It’s not our fault that procurement is low. Farmers prefer to sell to traders and CCI because they get immediate payment while we pay after 15 days. Also, we deduct half their bank loan repayment, while they don’t.” Dr Hirani said that the state could not procure more because of power cuts. “Ginning factories can only work one of three shifts. They are processing the purchases at a quarter of their capacity. There is no place to store the cotton. That’s why we cannot purchase more,” he said. Maharashtra’s Monopoly Cotton Procurement Scheme was introduced in 1972 to assure a fair and stable price to cotton farmers and protect them from traders who rigged the market. The state government set up a network of procurement centres to buy cotton directly from farmers and eliminate middlemen. The scheme started making losses after 1995, when the price of cotton collapsed in the world market. The government was buying at a price higher than the market rate. Since then, every government has tried to dismantle the scheme, denying farmers the only protection they had. At one of the few procurement centres that are functioningPhoto: Dionne Bunsha Procurement prices have been lowered to cut losses. “In 2001, the state government offered upto Rs 2,700 per quintal. Now, it’s less than Rs 2,000. How are farmers supposed to survive when the prices of everything else are rising?” asks Vijay Jawandhia, Shetkari Sanghatana leader. The Congress-NCP alliance promised a cotton price of Rs 2,700 per quintal before the election. But when it came to power, it lowered the price from Rs 2,250 to Rs 1,750. “What is Sharad Pawar doing as agricultural minister? He is only safeguarding his constituency and the sugar lobby,” said Ganesh Nagure from Mendoli village in Yavatmal. When the Prime minister toured Vidarbha in July this year, he announced a Rs 3,750-crore ‘package’ for Vidarbh’s 30 lakh farmers in distress, including an interest waiver and an order to banks to issue loans. But the PM glossed over the crux of the farm crisis – price. While the cost of production has risen, prices have fallen. Farmers are finding it difficult to make ends meet and driven deeper into debt. Issuing fresh loans just saved them from the moneylenders this time round. But what happens at the end of the season when the farmer can’t pay back the loan once again? The pressure to pay up drives several farmers to kill themselves, leaving their wives and children to take on the burden. Dinesh Gogul’s family has been left without a breadwinner for a different reason. He left the village to sell his cotton and returned a dead man, mowed down by police bullets in Wani. His family is still reeling from the shock. “My son is only 12 years, and my in-laws are old. How are we going to survive?” asks Savita, his wife, only 32 and widowed. The family of Dinesh Gogul, the farmer who was killed in the police firing at WaniPhoto: Dionne Bunsha When trouble broke out in Wani, Maharashtra’s Home minister R.R. Patil was only three hours away attending the state assembly session in Nagpur. But he didn’t bother to visit the site. Instead, he hosted a dinner party for journalists at his bungalow that night, while the flames in Wani were still being doused. Two days later, he arrived at Savita’s doorstep with a cheque of Rs three lakh. Dinesh’s son inherits a grim legacy of loss. His generation is likely to witness growing restlessness as deprivation deepens. Wani may be just the beginning. The fire is still quietly smoldering..
  • Vines of Debt

    Vines of Debt

    June 30, 20070 Comments
    Onion or grape, farmers of Nashik in north Maharashtra have very little to choose to escape debt, and now death. DIONNE BUNSHA in Nashik, Maharashtra Pandurang Kadam's daughter-in-law Sunita with her children. Burdened by debt, Pandurang set himself on fire in the Lasalgaon market yard.Photo: Dionne Bunsha While writing out the receipt for Pandurang Kadam’s onion crop, the trader didn’t realise that it would be forensic evidence. The next day, 20 April 2006, Pandurang returned to the Lasalgaon market and set himself on fire. The town watched shocked as Pandurang burned in the yard where a thousand farmers’ hopes are extinguished everyday. In his pocket, they recovered the receipt. Behind it, Pandurang had written his last words. “The co-operative society bank’s Rs 23,500 still remains. Electricity bill Rs 4,000-5,000. Ashok Rs 3,000, Champalal Rs 1,000. All the onions went for Rs 151 (per quintal). I could not pay back the loans. My prayer to the state and centre is that farmers must get a price of Rs 300-400. With this prayer, I end my life’s journey.” It was the harvest season, and Pandurang (60) went to the market hoping this year would be different. But it wasn’t. He wasn’t able to make up the last two years’ losses on his one-acre farm. “The market price was too low for him to recover any of the costs,” says Sunita Kadam, his daughter-in-law in Somthan Desh village. “He had sold one bullock, the cart and even the tractor. But even that wasn’t enough.” Driving through the lush green fields of Nashik, no one would imagine that farmers here are in the red. The hilly landscape is lined with leafy grape vines reaching up to touch the sky. Lasalgaon is one of the largest markets for onions in Asia. Nashik district is one of the more developed districts in Maharashtra -- called India’s California. But here, dreams have soured as prices have crashed. For the first time, 17 farmers suicides have been reported here. Higher production has actually led to their ruin. There’s poverty amidst plenty. “Production and exports are reaching record highs every year. But prices are falling, since there is a surplus,” says C.B. Holkar, vice chairman of the National Agricultural Co-operative Marketing Federation. “Farmers can’t even recover their costs.” Onion production all over India has risen from 40 lakh tonnes five years back to 60 lakh tonnes last year, says Holkar. Exports have doubled to almost ten lakh tonnes. But the prices this year have been the lowest in the last five years. The price this year is Rs 200-250 per quintal, while the cost of production is around Rs 350-400. “The government must ensure a minimum support price for perishable goods, just as it does for wheat or oilseeds. Otherwise farmers cannot survive,” says Holkar. Since onions were a dead loss, several farmers started grape cultivation. Punjaram Thakre’s onion crop has been in losses for many years. Last year, he spent Rs 1.5 lakh to put up a grape orchard. “In the last two years, we weren’t able to recover our costs on the onion harvests. I spent Rs 20,000 to grow onions, but I got back only Rs 8,000. The rate was only Rs 160 per quintal,” says Thakre. “So then, I decided to also invest in a grape trellis. The initial cost was Rs 1.5 lakh. Every year, you have to spend around Rs 50,000 to 70,000 on pesticides, fertilisers, labour. But I got only Rs 40,000 when I sold the grapes.” Thakre’s bank loans have piled up to Rs 2.5 lakh. “I sold half an acre of land, two bullocks and the cart, my tractor and motorcycle. There’s nothing left to sell, but I haven’t been able to repay the bank for the past two years,” says Thakre. Punjaram Thakre and his son at their grape orchard. Punjaram's wife committed suicide after the loans they took exceeded Rs.2 lakhs. Their onion crop had incurred losses for several years and forced them to try grape cultivation as well.Photo: Dionne Bunsha His wife, Shantibai couldn’t deal with the pressure of the paybacks. She jumped into a well on 1st July and ended the ordeal. When we visited Punjaram, they had just completed her 11th day prayer. “For any villager, a ‘lakh’ is a very intimidating figure. My wife had never even spent Rs 500 in her entire life, so we was very worried about how we would pay back more than two lakh.” Though much more expensive to grow, grape prices were lucrative until two years ago. So, several farmers shifted to grape farming. “In two years, the area under grape cultivation in Nashik district has doubled to 100,000 acres today. The costs of cultivation have also doubled. It’s now Rs 80-90,000 per acre for grapes grown for the Indian market. (Those growing for export spend more than Rs 1 lakh per acre). But the prices have halved from Rs 10-20 per kg three years back to Rs 6-10 now,” says Balasaheb Kshirsagar, from the Maharashtra Grape Producers Association. “People switched to grape cultivation because no other crop was proving profitable. But now there is greater production, even the price of grapes has fallen. And costs just keep rising. For instance, the price of one pesticide has doubled from last year. And, farmers have to use more than 12 different types of pesticide, and spray six times,” Kshirsagar explains. It costs Rs 11-12 to grow one kg of grapes, but farmers have to sell for Rs 6-10 per kg. At the market in Niphad, onion farmers, disappointed at the price they get for their crop which is far below the cost of production.Photo: Dionne Bunsha Until now, farmers have been able to muster up the money for such high cultivation costs because this region is more developed than others. Peasants have better access to water and credit. But as they hurl towards bankruptcy, banks are unlikely to give them loans. “Niphad taluka has the highest amount of loans from banks. Around 87% of farmers have taken loans. Credit is not a problem,” says Ramdas Khedekar, Sub-Divisional Officer of Niphad. “There aren’t many moneylenders here. We will never go to them. They charge 10% per month,” says Sakari Dargude, a farmer from Brahman Gaon village. Sakari’s son, Vijay (19) killed himself by swallowing poison in the cattle shed on 2nd April 2006. “He didn’t want me to sell the cattle to repay our loan instalment of Rs 1.35 lakh. But without repaying, we would not get a fresh loan for the monsoon season. I didn’t get a proper price for my onion crop, so I had to sell the cattle to pay back,” says Sakari. “So I went and sold them without telling him. When he reached the shed and found the animals missing, he was so upset, he swigged the pesticide.” “Until they give us a fixed price, we will never progress,” says Sakari. “When vegetable prices in the city go up, they create havoc to make it lower. But the state doesn’t reduce the costs for us. When prices in the city go up, we don’t get higher prices. The middlemen make all the profits. And, no one bothers when prices crash during the harvest season and it’s time for us to sell.” He adds, “What is agricultural minister Sharad Pawar doing for farmers? He wants us all to be out of business and hand over the land to US companies on contract.” “Why is the government willing to import wheat at Rs 1,400 per q, but it won’t pay its own farmers more than Rs 800-900 per q? Why do city people and the media raise such a ruckus if the price of onions or tomatoes goes up?” asks Kshirsagar. “Can’t they spend Rs 50 per month more for their food, so that those producing it don’t starve?” he asks. Frontline, Aug. 26 - Sep. 8, 2006 Also available here
  • Villages for Sale in Vidarbh

    Villages for Sale in Vidarbh

    June 30, 20070 Comments
    'Kidney Sale Centre’: proclaims a banner sprawled across a ramshackle bamboo tent in Shingnapur village in Amravati district. Farmers here are threatening to sell their kidneys. "We have invited the Prime Minister and the President to inaugurate this kidney shop. They should allow us to sell our kidneys. We are all ruined by debt. Many farmers are killing themselves. Our kidneys are all we have left to sell," says Madhavgir Champat Giri, who sold all his land to pay his bank loan. Not only Shingnapur, but other villages in Vidarbh – Dorli, Lehegaon and Shivni Rasulapur - have declared they are up for sale. They can no longer survive by living off the land. It’s the first time that people have protested against the suicides here. Everyday, local newspapers report at least two or three more suicides. Since June 2005, around 309 farmers have killed themselves, unable to bear the pressures of huge debts, grim poverty and lost self-esteem. "Earlier, I even had money to diga well on my field. Now, I have nothing,” says Madhavgir. “I sold my land. I can’t find work. No one can afford to pay farm labourers. There’s no food at home. We have become hungry and naked, roaming like dogs. We just drink water to fill our stomachs and go to sleep.” This once-prosperous cotton belt in eastern Maharashtra has been ruined in the last 15 years of liberalisation. Production costs have multiplied three to five times, but the market price of cotton has fallen from Rs 2,500 per quintal in 1991 to Rs 1,785 today. Prices of other crops have also fallen. Most farmers are running up huge losses, and have to borrow heavily to keep afloat. Since many have defaulted on loan repayments, they can’t borrow from banks. Their only recourse is the trader-moneylenders, who lend at 60 to 120% interest. Farmers are trapped in debt. “This year has been very bad,” says Suryapal Chavan, a Kisan Sabha activist from Shingnapur. “Both the soya and cotton crops were washed out by heavy rains. Worse, the government has lowered the price at which it procures cotton by Rs 500. People are worried about how they will run their homes and get money to sow in the next season.” It’s the end of the harvest season, but the government hasn’t even opened procurement centres to buy cotton. Yards that were once crowded with bullocks carts loaded of cotton and where farmers would wait for days to sell their produce, are now deserted. Farmers are selling to traders since they are offering a rate only slightly lower than the government - Rs 1500-1700 per quintal. “There was once a time when cart loads of cotton would leave this village. This year, not a single cart has left,” says Giri. Government procurement is just 6.25 lakh quintals of cotton this season, compared to 185 lakh quintals last season, a drop of 96%. Last year, the government had opened 410 procurement centres. This year, there are only 160. Once, cotton was considered 'white gold', and Vidarbha's black soil was perfect for cotton cultivation. With liberalization, the 'white gold' is now worthless. The government has withdrawn market controls, tariffs and subsidies for agriculture, leaving Indian farmers to compete with farmers in the US and EU, who are protected by trade restrictions and given billions of dollars in subsidies. The US 2002 Farm bill alone gave $ 190 billion to large companies growing cotton, wheat, corn, soybean, rice, barley, oats and sorghum. "Ten years back, the international price of cotton lint was $1.10 per pound, but now it is 52 cents. The retail price of cotton then was Rs 40 per metre, and it is now Rs 80. Retail prices have doubled but farmers are forced to sell their produce at half the price," says Vijay Jawandhia, Shetkari Sanghatana activist. The government doesn’t even provide proper infrastructure like irrigation or marketing facilities. The Indian government could protect its producers from imports and crashing international prices by hiking the import duty on cotton. At present, it is only 10 per cent. Import duty on other products like sugar (60%), rice (80%) and second hand cars (180%) are much higher. “The government is willing to protect sugar farmers and foreign car manufacturers here but not cotton farmers. Imports have flooded the market and prices have fallen,” says Jawandhia.

    A banner that announces the "sale" of Dorli village.Photo: Dionne Bunsha<!--2-->

    The US, EU, Japan and Canada restrict trade from developing countries by keeping tariffs at 350% to 900% on food products. But India provides incentives to agricultural imports. Even within India, the ‘free market’ doesn’t apply to all agricultural goods. Some are favoured more than others. Agriculture minister Sharad Pawar has ensured that Maharashtra’s politically powerful sugar co-operative lobby remains protected. “The central government regulates the flow of sugar into the market so that the price of sugar is steady. Why don’t they do the same to protect cotton farmers?” asks Jawandhia. Left to their own devices, farmers in are threatening to abandon agriculture and trade in their kidneys. The flash point in Shingnapur came when suicide struck closer to home, in their village. Now, it wasn’t something ‘out there’ in someone else’s backyard. On the night of 16th December 2005, Jagdish Deshmukh (40) killed himself by swallowing pesticide. “We held a meeting and decided that we have to unite people. So we started this kidney sale agitation. What other solution? People are so desperate that some would really sell their kidneys, if given a chance,” said Chavan, Jagdish’s wife, Sangeeta is left to look after their three children…and the debt. He owed the bank Rs 11,000, but she doesn’t know how much more he had borrowed from moneylenders. “This season, we got nothing - just 20 kg of cotton and no soyabean. Bank officials came to demand the loan five days before he killed himself. They also came three days after,” said Sangeeta. Now, she grows vegetables on their farm and sells them to earn Rs 10 to 20 everyday. “We have an electricity bill of Rs 7000. Yesterday, they came and threatened to cut our connection if we don’t pay. If they do that, then I won’t be able to grow vegetables without the water pump. We’ll be left with nothing.” Her son, Sandeep (12) stopped going to the secondary school in Shivni village, four km away, because they can’t afford the Rs 4 bus ticket. Now, he goes around the village selling vegetables. The recession has affected all aspects of village life – children’s education, health, there’s no money to marry daughters, and people are selling off their cattle.

    The "Farmers' Kidney Sale Centre" in Shingnapur village.Photo: Dionne Bunsha<!--2-->

    
For the first time, landless labourers from Shingnapur have migrated to cities. Meet the ‘Mumbai Return’ gang – eight who ventured out to try their luck finding work in the big city. Their first adventure outside their village didn’t last long. “We went to a construction site at Nerul, where we worked for two days. Then, there was no work and two of our friends got malaria, so we spent all our money to put them in hospital. As soon as they got out of hospital, we hopped on a train ticketless and came back home,” said Maruti Ade, a landless worker. Maruti and his wife Reena’s find it more difficult to get work even once a week. Landowners can’t afford to pay wages. “Many are shifting to soyabean, and cultivating less cotton and jowar because their prices are so low. That means less work for us, because there’s no need for much labour in soyabean harvesting. Cotton harvesting gives women a lot of work, and men are needed for the jowar crop,” said Reena. “Those who used to grow tur and jowar and distribute it to us don’t have grain in their own homes now.” The crisis has affected all – rich and poor. Meet Anil Tatte, a prize-winning farmer from Lehegaon in Amravati district. He won a Krishi Bhushan award from the state government. His innovative farm techniques made his yield double that of other farmers. Today, Anil is sinking along with the rest of this village. They too have declared that their village is up for sale. “This year, I even tried Bt cotton. It’s expensive. I spent Rs 80,000 on my 10 acres, and got only Rs 50,000. This award-winning farm is now in losses.” Lehegaon was once prosperous, situated in what was once called India’s Orange County. “In the last five years, there has been very little water. I have had to cut all the 2000 orange trees in my orchard. They all dried up,” says Anil. Like most places in Vidarbh, the problem here is irrigation. Only 10% of land in the region is irrigated. In Lehegaon, even private wells have run dry, as the water table has fallen. “The Upper Wardha dam is near our village, but we don’t get water from it. Pipelines from there go to the adjoining Wardha district.” The ginning factory in the village, which used to employ 400 people, hasn’t opened this season. Dairy has collapsed. “Ten years back, we had 600 cattle. Now we have 60. The price we get for milk is too low. There’s a bank here. But now only a few traders go there. Recently, the government arrested many moneylenders. Even they have stopped lending. They were the only source of funds for farmers,” says Nilesh Tatte, a young farmer. Shivni Rasulapur, next to Shingnapur, has also said that they will mortgage the entire village to pay off their debts. “The only time officials visit us is when the bank officers come to collect our loans. Or when the electric board threatens to cut our lines. Otherwise, no one has bothered,” said Purshottom Bansod, a farmer leading the agitation. “I want to sell my land. But no one has the money to buy it,” says Arun Chambhare, a small farmer from Dorli, the first village to declare it was for sale. “We are living in darkness. They cut my electricity line. My daughter studies for her 12th standard exam with a lantern.” Dorli, a predominantly Dalit village, has 47 families, of which 32 are registered as below the poverty line. Many more are sliding further downhill. How much longer before the threats and protests to sell land and kidneys become a grim reality?