

MALAPPURAM: For more than three decades, Ahmed Bava travelled the roads of Tirur with no engine beneath him, only the steady pull of oxen and the creak of a wooden cart. Now, at 77, he lives a quiet retired life, carrying memories of a time when bullock carts were the lifeline of villages around Tirur.
The carts once formed an essential link between the railway station, Tirur River and the interior villages. Goods arriving by boat or train were loaded onto the carts and transported along narrow, rugged roads to places that had little access to other means of transport.
More than 15 bullock carts were once stationed at Vandipetta near the Tirur railway station. That world disappeared around three and a half decades ago, as mini-lorries and goods autorickshaws gradually took over the roads.
Bava, a native of Edakkulam, is believed to be the last surviving bullock-cart driver from that era. He began driving carts at the age of seven and continued until he was 42. On Sunday, local residents honoured Bava in recognition of his decades of service, bringing back memories of a mode of transport that once connected the region’s villages.
He was felicitated as part of ‘Naadinte Naalvazhikal’, an initiative of Re-Eco, a cultural and environmental organisation that seeks to document people and practices associated with a bygone era and pass those memories on to the younger generation.
Bava’s memories stretch far beyond the routine of transporting goods. His cart carried coconut oil, dried coconuts, betel leaves, areca nuts, and other commodities to Annassery, Thalakkadathur, Athavanad and Thuvvakkad.
One of his most unusual journeys came when the police summoned him and his father, Muhammed, to bring their cart to a place near Vairankode. “There were few transport facilities in the area then, and the cart could travel only up to Kuthukallu Thazhe. After waiting for a while following the police call, I saw a group of local people and police officers approaching through a narrow lane. They were carrying two bodies,” Bava recalls.
The bodies were taken by bullock cart to the Tirur mortuary for postmortem examination. “That was the strangest delivery I ever made,” he says, decades later, still remembering the journey made under police escort.
The work was modestly paid. Transporting 50 kg of rice earned Rs 2.50 while carrying a tin of coconut oil fetched Rs 2. Driving a bullock cart was also a regulated occupation.
“A licence had to be obtained from the panchayat and the cart could be operated only after the prescribed ‘thali’, or number plate, was fixed to it. Parking outside designated stands could invite a fine of 50 paise,” he says.
Thirunavaya, Bava recalls, had an even larger network of bullock carts. Apart from the Tirur-Edakkulam route, carts carried roofing tiles from the Kodakkal Tile Factory to various destinations and to the loading yard near the Thirunavaya railway station. Some carts were used to carry passengers too.
The oxen that powered this network were bought from cattle markets at Perumpilavu and Vaniamkulam and were generally used for no more than two years.
“Maintaining them cost around Rs 30 a month, including expenses for carpentry work and shoeing. Their feed consisted of crushed gram, offal, copra, rice bran and horse gram,” Bava recalls.
For Bava, the trade was also a family tradition. Several members of his family were involved in the profession when the bullock cart was not a symbol of a bygone age but an indispensable part of everyday life.
Today, the carts have disappeared from Tirur’s roads and the routes they once travelled have been claimed by faster vehicles. But when local residents gathered to honour Bava, they were not merely felicitating an old cart driver. They were honouring a man who once helped keep an entire network of villages moving, one journey at a time.