The road ends at Maamillavaye. After that there is nothing but the jungle. The tribal village in Aswapuram mandal of Khammam district in Andhra Pradesh has some 70 Koya families whose ancestors came here more than 150 years ago.
Recently, there has been a steady increase of Muria tribals from Chhattisgarh. There have always been two or three Muria families in the area, but now there are about 16.
Most have fled from the Salwa Judum-Maoist conflict and a few families have escaped the more recent upsurge in the Bastar region. All are classified as internally displaced persons, or IDPs. They have no land rights,
no ration cards, no voter identification cards. The ones who have been living
at Maamillavaye for over four years got their NREGA cards recently with
the help of the Koya villagers, but they hardly get any work.
They live in fear of being uprooted again — they have no promised land.
At Maamillavaye resources are a matter of contention. The 16 Muria families have to build their settlements on about 10 acres — ‘a gift’ from the Koya. Their settlement, Erragotta has a rivulet that is drying up — it flows from Maamillavaye. Even in November, they dig into the riverbed to get water — it truly is a drought year. Then of course, the water from the hand pump at Maamillavaye is high in fluoride — the rusted smiles of the Koya women are a distinct sign.
Eventually, the issue of land neared boiling point. The new refugees began to cultivate land that the Maamillavaye Gram Sabha did not permit them to cultivate. Their animals started to feed on their cultivated land. They started cutting trees they shouldn’t have cut. They blocked passageways. They started petty fights. The Koya fears of Muria ferocity started to fuel xenophobia.
Irritations led to frustrations that led to further resentment.
The Koya are not affluent — not everyone in the village has land. The 70 families have around 350 acres, roughly five acres per family, yet there are
disparities in distribution. There is greed. There is a need to feed one’s own children that outweighs all others. There are fears. Eventually, their tolerance reaches breaking point — they go to the police. They don’t do anything for a resolution or compromise. The Koya are further agitated.
They call a few Muria villagers to talk. Instead, the Muria go to talk to another village headman, annoyed that the Koya went to the police first.
On November 10 there is a confrontation, tempers flare, there’s still no compromise and eventually some 40 Koya villagers burn Erragotta — all the 15 homes that housed the 16 families.
The IDPs go to police who tell them there should be no more violence. If anything happens to Maamillavaye and the Koya, they will be held directly responsible. The Muria are furious that there’s no one for them.
When I reach the village, I find about 40 angry villagers. I am there to find
out about Chhattisgarh and if any of the new IDPs wish to talk. They say there are no new IDPs though it is clear they are there. But they are afraid that if anyone finds out they will be sent back to Chhattisgarh, or the police informed. The Muria are fantastic liars when they are afraid. And they have good reason to be scared.
A few days ago, at another village, a land dispute between locals and migrants led to a local villager informing police that there were naxalites among the migrants. In truth, this ‘naxalite’ wanted more land — and wasn’t heeding warnings. He was shot dead by police and many others were sent to jail and booked under the Andhra Pradesh Public Security Act.
Maamillavaye is less than 500 metres from Erragotta. One Muria villager from there says, ‘‘I’m not going so far’’, when asked if he would get water from their hand pump when the river dries up. There is genuine intolerance here.
For the IDPs at Erragotta it’s about land — this promised land in Andhra Pradesh. Only a few of the families intend to return to Dantewada to cultivate their own land. And that eventually becomes a burning issue.
The simmering tensions result in a team of social workers and lawyers from Seva, ASDS, the Human Rights Law Network and Telangana Rashtriya Samiti arriving at Erragotta. From a fact-finding mission, it turns into an attempt to find compromise between the two villages and two tribes.
Walking across, two of the oldest friends — one migrant and one local, both senior citizens come together first, and mumble to one another, wary of the crowd. One of them is Ramaiya (name changed), a Muria who has lived at Erragotta for more than 10 years.
He has 25 acres bodu land, and is the Muria spokesperson.
Finally, a few local villagers get chairs for their distinguished guests. The elders are also seated. Yet it takes time for the villagers of Maamillavaye to arrive.
The migrants all sit at one end of the road. The locals arrive, slowly, and sit far from them. There is little eye contact. Eventually they outnumber the
migrants. Yet they’re still sitting too far from one another, talking as children play in the background. They’re finally coaxed to sit closer to one another.
Eventually, it begins. First the complaints, heard one by one. Every person gets a chance. Little more than five minutes into the meeting Ramaiya stands up, shakes his fist, screams at the Koya, and gestures to his people to leave. Everyone is screaming — all the activists and the lawyers stand in the middle of the adversaries rushing at one another, trying desperately to calm the crowd.
‘‘No compromise,’’ says lawyer Advinarayan of Human Rights Law Network, as Murias walks down the road leading away from Maamillavaye. The marshmallow clouds begin to blush — it is dusk.
At Maamillavaye, Ramaiya’s manipulations have been exposed. A few Muria do return to talk. And some of them don’t leave. Everyone’s speaking in separate groups. My translator has vanished. And I wish I could understand what everyone is saying.
Ramaiya goes so far as to tell the village elders of Maamillavaye that
he will get rid of the IDP families and keep the land himself, when the elders raise concerns about the increasing number of new families. According to some villagers, Ramaiya has around 25 acres and wants more.
The Koya and the Muria agree to a compromise once Ramaiya is out of the picture. Two acres for each IDP family. The Koya even promise to help rebuild the homes destroyed. There will be no more indiscriminate of cutting trees. No more blocking of passageways.
These conflicts are not surprising, given the corporate land grabs that are further marginalising marginalised communities. AP alone has approved 99 SEZs. There are going to be a thousand more Maamillavayes and Erragottas.
— imissyahoo@gmail.com
A question of land rights with no certain answers
The Murias are traditionally from Narayanpur district in Chhattisgarh.
They are a sub-tribe of the Gond tribe. The Muria are skilled woodcutters and known for their quick temper.
Since 2004, a number of tribals including some from Murias have fled the Maoist-fuelled conflict in Chhattisgarh and settled in northern Andhra Pradesh, especially Khamman district. Although exact numbers of such internally displaced persons (IDPs) is not available, estimates put it around 1.5 lakh.
Some have been fortunate to live with relatives in Andhra Pradesh, while others live in remote settlements newly carved out of the forests that border Andhra Pradesh and Chhattisgarh. Mostly daily-wage labourers, some have also cleared forest to cultivate the land. The ownership of such land is disputed and brings to question their existing lands in Chhattisgarh.
The Scheduled Tribes and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Act, 2006, guaranteed land rights to tribals. But by the time the Act was notified in 2007 and the rules formulated in 2008, a number of them had fled to Andhra Pradesh.
The Chhattisgarh administration tried to enumerate the IDPs in Andhra Pradesh, in an attempt to implement the Act, but success has remained questionable with information often distorted by NGOs upon whom the government has depended for enumerating IDPs.
The IDPs themselves are reluctant to reveal their origins fearing that they will be sent back to Chhattisgarh. But they risk losing their land rights in Chhattisgarh. Observers believe it is a deliberate attempt to empty the villages of tribals so that their land can be used for mining. With the launch of Operation Green Hunt and a prolonged conflict, it remains to be seen if any of those who have fled to Andhra Pradesh will ever be able to return.