Stella's Musings

Our Disasters, Their Disasters

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Mon, 27 Feb 2012 11:42:00 +0000

This Sunday I heard Sasidhar Reddy, Vice-Chairman of our National Disaster Management Authority(NDMA) asking each state to create its own 'Disaster Response Force', just like the center's National Disaster Response Force (NDRF). In fact, Reddy said that the response force should be capable enough to manage not just natural calamities, but also the consequences of a chemical and biological attack.

Sikkim earthquake in September 2011

A year ago, when tsunami hit Japan, I remember watching on TV the visuals of rising wall of sea water, floating cars, submerging building blocks etc and getting awestruck by the way people over there kept their cool, without any visible sign of panic anywhere. I remember sharing this thought on Facebook and learning that almost everyone of my friends also wondered about it.

We knew the answer of course: the Japanese didn't panic, because they had a disaster management system that they could totally rely on.

In contrast, we have disasters by the dozen (flood, cyclones, earthquake, wildfire) each year, but our way to fight them basically means neighbors helping each other out and when things are way too horrific, the local govt. appeals to the army to help, which normally is done after quite a few days. Since the Fukushima disaster, I have often wished, 'if only we could have such a system!'

This is why I found Reddy's statement quite interesting. Of course, it was also too ambitious (chemical and biological disaster preparedness, when we don't even have readiness to take care of a flash flood???), nevertheless worthy to be taken seriously simply because to ignore it would mean being stupid.

Take Jammu and Kashmir for example. The state, located in the seismic zone five and surrounded by tectonically active Himalayas, is described as highly vulnerable to natural disasters including earthquakes. Yet, the state government is yet to finalize a Disaster Management Policy, let alone form a response force. Every month we hear mild tremors occurring here and there in the state. God forbid, but what if a not- so-mild tremor hits? Will the personal charisma of Omar Abdullah be able to save the people there?

Similarly, Maharashtra, the state that had one of the world's worst earthquakes in 1993 (known as Latur earthquake) that claimed 7928 lives, is yet to have a state disaster management authority!

The situation , however, is not very impressive even in those states that have already adopted a disaster management policy, but have, in reality, little preparedness to fight a disaster.

For example, last September, after the Sikkim earthquake, the 8 states of the north east region (a high seismic, volatile zone where floods are an annual feature and where the central government is building multiple mega dams such as Tipaimukh and Lower Subansiri, thus endangering the region even further) met to review their disaster management mechanisms.
During the meeting, every state said that despite having a policy in place, it wasn't in a position to actually fight a disaster, because it neither had skilled manpower, nor the technical capability (the crucial components for building a 'response force'). The states then asked the central government to set up a NDRF station in each of the state capital and provide with adequate number of personnel.

Now, when such is the case, NDMA must go beyond sending directives to form disaster policies and leaving the states to manage 'their own disasters'. Instead it should assess the actual preparedness of each state, based on its risk potential, to check a disaster. Also,it should assess the kind of monetary and technical assistance each state needs to set a disaster response force. Unless this is done, things are not going to move far beyond the rhetoric and disaster management will stay as another of those thorny national vs state subjects.

Of course, being the dramatics-loving Indians that we are, some things will still remain unchanged: after the disaster strikes, we will push each other, cry and talk loudly and refuse to be in a single file while waiting to be rescued. But if we have at least a team that's been raised, trained and equipped for fast and effective post-disaster management, we will not feel as helpless as we do now.

Ulhasnagar and Banaskatha - the great Indian Human markets

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 18:44:00 +0000

No matter how much you love shopping, here are two 'unique' Bazaars in India that you will wish had never existed: Ulhasnagar near Mumbai and Banskatha in Gujarat. And what is so unique about them? Its the goods that they sell: humans

I was born near Ulhasnagar - a township barely 2 and half hours from Mumbai, en route Pune. I knew that Ulhasnagar had a very dubious distinction of being the piracy hub of India. There was a thriving market for selling pirated copies of illegal - and horrible - versions of any electronic 'foreign' goods. But this week I was surprised to learn that Ulhasnagar also has a thriving market for selling human babies. Exposed by Mid-day, a tabloid published from Mumbai, the baby bazaar apparently sells stolen new born babies at INR 100,000 - 300,000. After the report was published, Fauziya Khan, minister of state, women and child welfare, said, "We will carry out an investigation on this issue. After a proper investigation, we will take action."

I think the question that the investigators should begin with is 'where do the babies come from?' The root of the rot has to be there!

Now, while the Ulhasnagar's baby bazaar might see a good intervention and hopefully a closure, a market for adolescent girls and women in Wadia village in Banskatha district of Gujarat has been continuing smoothly, without any 'disturbance'. In this community run market men, brothers and fathers of girls pimp for their own sisters and daughters, marketing them to truckers and men from neighboring villages. And this isn't an issue for any politician or opinion leaders
who otherwise cry buckets over communal tension or suppression of democracy by the state's right-wing chief minister Narendra Modi.

However, a few small NGOs are trying to intervene by advocating safe sex as dozens of women are reportedly HIV positive. And one of these NGOs - Vicharti Jaati Samuday Samarthan Manch, is also trying to close the bazaar by arranging marriage for some village girls. In Wadia, a girl hasn't been married off for years, as men from outside refuse to marry them for being sex sellers. "Once the girls start families elsewhere, it would prompt more girls to think out of the trade," says an activist of the manch.

So,there might be hopes around the corner. Until then, however, the great ugly Indian bodyshop is doomed to continue!

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You can also read prostitution in the name of tradition, my blog on similar trend in Uttar Pradesh

"Do they eat Fetus in China?"

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 13:00:00 +0000

Last December, a fellow journalist asked me "do the Chinese really eat (human) fetus?"

We were in Durban, South Africa, to cover the UNFCCC climate change summit. We were out to eat and I had ordered Chinese food - my favorite. But my friend, a TV producer from Namibia, looked almost sick. When I pressed for the reason, he told me, 'well, they eat fetus. So, just to enter a Chinese eatery makes me puke. I don't know what meat they have cooked.' Then, seeing that incredulous look on my face, he asked 'do you think its untrue?'

Now, contrary to what you may think, that friend of mine isn't a bum.
In fact, he is one of the most experienced and skilled audio-visual journalists in Namibia. He is also fairly familiar with world politics and culture. Yet he could easily believe this horrific myth. Why? Because, there has been little opportunity for him to know about the real Chinese cultural traditions or practices.

But why did I suddenly think of this? Because, I just finished reading an op-ed by Frank Ching in today's Time of India. Titled "Playing the gentle giant", the article elaborates on how the government of China is trying to ape the US in increasing its soft power globally, but is failing, because of its scanty respect for human rights and iron-hand controlling of news and information outflow. Ching gave the example of Hong Kong. But on my mind's window, the incident in Durban immediately popped up.

Africa, of late, has been a huge playground of Chinese investors. In Namibia also China's current investment is pretty big and stands at US$125 million. The investment - made mostly in construction and mining sectors - however, has been drawing more criticism than praises because of China's little regard for labor laws. In 2008, Hilma Shindondola-Mote of Labour Resource and Research Institute in Namibia, published a research paper with some damaging facts about the Chinese investment in Namibia. In the paper, a labor inspector, interviewed by Mote says,“I have nothing good to say about labour relations at Chinese companies in the construction sector. The salaries are low, they ill-treat workers and they don’t adhere to health and safety regulations”.

There are several other such papers that highlight how Chinese investors have asked Namibian government to go 'soft' on its labor protection policies.

Obviously, this is not the way China can create its soft power, no matter how many million Yuan are invested. Rights violations inside China maybe easy to hide, but is difficult to do so outisde the Chinese territory.

And this feeds on the gross myths and horrible rumors. Its in human character to believe anything bad about a person who treats you bad.And when it is a country that allows few independent sources to inform about its internal matters, you accept anything that comes to you.

Coming back to the fetus story, in Durban, my roommate was a Chinese journalist. But during our 2 week-long stay, she never interacted with any non-Chinese journalist, thus giving no chance to my Namibian journalist friend to know her and, through her, her country. She carefully avoided being in the vicinity of him and others, making it evident that they were not welcome to be her friends.

And so, the fetus-eating myth continued!

Who would you blame this continuation for? The believer? the reputation of China as a human rights violator? its failure to allow others to explore real China? or, it's people who prefer to stay within a wrap of enigma?

Deforestation in India: Why I don't buy the Govt argument (II)

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 16:14:00 +0000

In my previous blog, I shared with you the government's unacceptable explanation ("Maoists are behind it") on large-scale deforestation in Andhra Pradesh - the state that is the single largest fores cover loser in India.
Today, lets look at North east - the other area with big loss of green cover - 549 square km to be exact. And here the government has blamed two factors for the loss: biotic pressure and shifting cultivation in the region. Once again, I am not buying that. No, its not as though these don't exist. They do. What I say is that these are neither the 'only',nor the 'main' causes.

The real causes are, and I say this as a combination of some state-backed or state-neglected wrong activities that include smuggling, allowing of industrial units to operate in forest areas, indiscriminate mining, and illegal logging.

Lets look at Meghalaya to see an example.

The state of Meghalaya has lost 46 sq km of forest cover (and currently has 77.02 per cent green area). In a recent statement Ranjit Singh Gill, Joint Director, Forest Survey of India (FSI), himself said that roughly 12 million cubic feet of timber worth several thousand crores of rupees was felled in the reserved forests in Garo Hills of Meghalya.

Coming from the North East, I will be insane to buy the govt story -"biotic pressure and shifting cultivation" - on deforestation in the region

Earlier, in 2010, the then Environment and Forests Minister Jairam Ramesh had rejected a proposal from the Department of Atomic Energy for exploratory drilling for uranium in the South Garo Hills of Meghalaya. The reason cited was that there had already been rampant illegal mining in the region, which had already hurt the sentiments of the local population. Therefore, new mining should not be allowed to further "exploit" the region for its rich natural resources.

Ramesh has since been shifted out of environment ministry. But the same 'exploitation' continues. Today, a number of cement companies are operating right within the state's dense forest areas. According to a RTI filed by Mait Shaphrang Movement (MSM)- a local NGO, the government knowingly gave consent to the cement plants to be set up there. What is the damage caused by the cement companies? According to Michael N Syiem, convenor of MSM, if these cement companies were to compensate for mining in forests areas the value would be in millions of rupees.

But of course the government will not accept any of this. The shifting cultivation (or 'jhum' as the locals call it) has been, like the Maoists in Andhra, the govt's favorite excuse for decades of tree felling, so much so, it sometimes they appear ridiculous.

Let me give two other examples: There is a place called Lal Ganesh on the outskirts of Guwahati. About 15 years ago, a relative of mine (a retired govt employee) bought some land there and built a house. Everyone was shocked; it was a thick forest area and how could the relative stay in such a jungle? Today, so many illegal immigrants have settled there, the forest is long gone history. Now who practiced shifting cultivation there?

Traveling from Assam to Tripura, you cross a place called Choraibadi - a border town. Even 10 years ago, I saw thick forests there all along. Today its almost a bald patch. If you are traveling after dark, you can see line of trucks. Everyone knows they carry timber and are being smuggled to Bangladesh. Where do they come from?

These are just a few of so many examples! Today a few are pointing them, tomorrow it will be common people doing that. So, rather than a denial act, the government should put its power where it is needed: tackling deforestation by checking encroachment ,illegal timber trade, and rampant mining.

Maoists are India's main forest destroyers? Nah, I don't buy that!

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Fri, 10 Feb 2012 20:04:00 +0000

Just a couple of months ago, during the Durban UN Climate change summit, India got a huge pat on its back for increasing its forest cover by over 2%. Piggy riding on that, the government loudly asked for increased funding for its growing carbon stocks under REDD+ program.

Barely 8 weeks later, however, that great green picture is already showing signs of fading: the country has just released India State of Forest Report 2011 which shows, India's forests have shrunk by 367 square km over the last two years. According to the report, in 12 states the forest cover has fallen by 867 square km since 2009. Among the big losers are the North East - undeniably one of the country's pride green regions – which has lost a whopping 549 sq km of forest area – and Andhra Pradesh (AP), which, with the loss of 281 sq. km, leads this pack of losers.

A forest in the Maoist stronghold of Dantewada, Chhattisgarh. The govt says, Maoists are prime destroyers of forests. The picture says something else!

There's a reason why I am citing these two examples. Both the areas are falling into 'conflict zone' and the government has been quick to blame the political scenario for this forest decline.

Let’s first look at AP: very predictably, the government has said that the Maoists (Naxals) are to be blamed for the deforestation.

“The Naxals have chopped down hundreds of acres in Khammam and its neighboring districts,” claims T. Chatterjee, Secretary to the Union Ministry of Environment and Forests, before adding that Warangal and West Godavari districts, which flank Khammam on either side, also saw net losses of 23 square km each.

Now here is why I find this really difficult to believe: Apart from AP, at least three other states – Chhattisgarh, Orissa and Jharkhand have seen increased Naxal activities in past couple of years. From attacks on the security personnel to destruction of government properties and retaliation by the army/paramilitary forces, these three states have seen and borne much more brunt of the Maoist movement than AP has.

Yet, none of these states has recorded such large-scale deforestation. In fact, Both Jharkhand and Orissa have increased their forest cover by 83 and 48 sq km. respectively. Chhattisgarh has recorded a decline, but of only 4 sq km.

So, does that mean the Maoists in AP are particularly against forest growth?

According to media reports, Mr. Chatterjee has said that the Maoists, after cutting the trees have auctioned them and raised money.

How strange that this unique earning opportunity is being adopted and practiced by the Red force only in AP!

However, my personal feelings apart, the FSI report itself officially claims that the primary cause for loss of forest cover in Andhra Pradesh is the harvesting of eucalyptus plantations. Unfortunately, the report – or for that matter our government - does not distinguish between man-made plantations and natural forests which have far higher biodiversity value. And this is why there are so many who question the performance of India as a forest gainer as we seem to be putting quantity over quality.

But after this report, it is evident that we are also losing it quantity-wise. The problem is, instead of owning up its own foul acts - large scale eucalyptus plantation (and in Chhattisgarh, the govt had planted Jatropha in hundreds of HA of land - a miserably failed project that destroyed forest as well), the government is going for the easy way out: blame it on your enemy. This might suit politics, but not the country’s biodiversity!

***Tomorrow….so, what’s really happening in the North east?***

Three to Tango: Teaming up with Panos to amplify a grass root voice

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 16:19:00 +0000

A month ago, the editor duo of Lilly Peel and Anna Egan from Panos, London asked me to do something I found both unique and exciting: write a 5-blog series on a social activist who had great stories to share with the world. It had to be someone who matched words with deed - a tough job, if you ask me, in the murky world of activism where talkers outnumber doers.

But I had a name ready: Bhan Sahu - a grass root activist from Chhattisgarh whom I have known since 2009. Bhan was introduced to me (and then to Video Volunteers - my then office) by Adiyog, a senor journalist and media trainer who has been Bhan's mentor for years.

Following a quick nod from Panos, I visited Bhan in Chhattisgarh and from 1st week of January, started to write the blogs. And thus began a unique story-telling journey in which I and Bhan and Panos were co-passengers, having a dialogue with the global audience.

A month later, the series of the blogs have garnered great response, with readers from all over Asia and beyond expressing awe and saying how impressed they are to hear a powerful and true voice from the ground.

What were the stories about?

Blog 1: Meet Bhan Sahu – our new blogger from India

This introduces Bhan to the world and why I chose her for this blog series.

Blog 2:“What women need is economic independence”

Bhan shows a simple,yet great way to create earning opportunity for rural women. The story was re-published by Women's News Network.

Blog 3: I am being followed because of my videos

This highlights the constant police harassment that Bhan faces for being a social activist in a conflict zone.

Blog 4.The biggest challenge is apathy

This blog shows the difficulties -and the solutions - to mobilize people at grass root level and fight an issue.

Blog 5 (Final blog) Fight for justice pays off for girl injured in crossfire

In the final blog, Bhan stresses on the need - and the rewards - of being rooted in a community and knowing one's people well. It ends with some positive results and evokes faith in people's power to bring change.

And here are some of the comments from the readers:

"Bhan is fast becoming a heroine of mine. I love her unwavering determination to improve the world around her!" - Rob Safar, Panos

"What a simple,straight and practicable idea! I think this is what the world needs today – to engage community members in finding solutions to their day to day problems, because obviously the government can’t do everything." - Sarah Velozzi

"I am a Canadian researcher presently based in Jakarta, Indonesia where I am studying roles of rural women in creating livelihood opportunities, based on local resources. Though I have never been to India, I did see similar situation in Nepal where women almost never get to earn anything. I think this idea of cooperatives can be applied there as well" - Gretchen Beau

"I must say that this is one of the most original and powerful grassroot voices that I have ever heard." - Angelika Knapp

You can read all these blogs and comments here.

Meanwhile, I will thank Panos London both for giving me a chance to share Bhan's stories and for creating such a great platform to make heard the voices from the ground. Three may not be everyone's preferred company, but for me, I, Bhan and Panos London just rock!

Like mother, like child

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 18:31:00 +0000

Shared here is my latest article published in World Pulse -the global women's media group that earlier selected me as a 'Voices of Our Future' Correspondent 2012. You can read the original article here

Last week, Kamala, my 65 year old neighbor, was hospitalized after she had sudden dizziness and showed signs of amnesia. An MRI scan revealed that Kamala had 4 blood clots on the left side of her brain. This surprised everyone around Kamala; nobody could recall her having a fall or a collision – the normal cause of a head injury. The doctors however had a different explanation: Kamala had acute anemia. A widow with no land or other valuable assets, Kamala was earlier a daily wage earner in a village for 20 years. For those twenty years, her daily diet was just a plate of rice and a spoon of yoghurt. With extremely low nutrition level, Kamala soon developed anemia and has been suffering from it since then.

Kamala represents the vast population of Indian women - over 53% to be precise, who are malnourished and suffer from related ailments such as low blood pressure and anemia.

India must eradicate malnutrition in its vast female population to save its vast population of malnourished children

This shocking fact was revealed when the United Nations Development Program (UNDP) released the India Human Development Report 2011, 3 months ago. According to the report, 55.3% of women aged 15-49 years suffer from anemia. In some northern Indian states like Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, the percentage is nearly 60%. As feared by many, there are more malnourished and anemic women in marginalized communities than in other groups.

Poor nutrition and health in women has resulted in poor health in infants. The Human Development Report states, ‘A staggering 21.5% of babies in India are born with low birth weight, a problem that begins in the womb.’ Little wonder that India now has the largest number of malnourished children in the world.

This contrasts sharply with India’s performance in the economic sector. As per the Economic Outlook for 2011-12, released by the government of India in August 2011, India’s GDP growth rate for 2011-12 is 8.2% as compared to 8.5% registered last year. The high GDP growth makes India the second fastest growing major economy in the world and an emerging superpower.

The root cause of this continued malnutrition is not a sharp decline in food production either. According to the records of the Indian Agriculture Ministry, India’s current yearly food grain production is at 218 million tons, and is poised to cross 250 million tons by the end of 2012.

The main reason for malnutrition and anemia, as the UNDP rightly points out, is gender discrimination. The UNDP report says, ‘gender discrimination in India (and South Asia) is among the worst in the world. Even in 2011, adult female literacy was barely 65%, 10% behind the male literacy. Moreover, female labor participation rates are among the lowest in any developing region. Although the situation is changing among adolescent girls, for women in the reproductive age this combination of poor education and low labor force participation translates into low autonomy in the household.’

Clearly, malnutrition and poor health among women are directly linked to gender discrimination. Law makers must address this issue while giving women a legal right to access sufficient food and nutrition.

In December 2011, India introduced a draft law called the National Food Security Bill, which aims to provide cheaper food grains to the poor - estimated to be 63.5% of India's population. However, even this bill fails to answer the crucial question: what are the constituents of a nutritious diet? Without this being explained first, even if all the women of India get sufficient food, their nutrition intake will continue to be low.

It is, therefore, time for the government to show utmost seriousness in eradicating the twin evils of female malnutrition and gender discrimination in food distribution. To begin with, the government must expedite the public and political consultation on the National Food Security Bill, amend it accordingly and assess the nutrients provided to the beneficiaries before activating it. The current lackadaisical and ‘business as usual’ attitude will only worsen the situation, thus adding to the shame of a country that maintains over 8% GDP despite a global recession, but deprives half its female population of nourishment.

Songs Of The Battered Women Reflection of domestic violence in folk music of North East India

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 19:32:00 +0000

Shared here is an article of mine that was recently published by the Folklore Foundation of India - a prestigious research institute working on folk literature.

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‘Dhamail deo go bherbherir ma/amra dhamail chini na/
Kichu kichu chintam pari/budha betay manoin na

(‘Dance, O mother of Bherbheri.’ ‘We don’t know how to dance. Actually, we know a little bit, but the Big Man won’t allow us’)

Growing us as a child in a village of North-east India, bordering Sylhet district of Bangladesh, I sung this song along with my friends during a session of ‘Dhamail’- the most commonly practiced group dance in our area. In Dhamail,(originated from ‘Dhamal’ or fun) women, accompanied by a drummer, dance in a circular motion, singing songs of love, rituals, rebellion and worship. Such dance is an integral part of any social event, be that a wedding or an engagement or even ‘annaprashan’(first rice eating of a child) in hundreds of villages in the NE region.

Also, Dhamail has always been the most popular game among children, especially girls. Every day while playing, we would break into a ‘Dhamail’ dance and sing joyously whatever we learnt from our female relatives.

However, this particular song, mentioned above, wasn’t sung at any social event, and was only heard in little girls’ groups such as ours. The reason: it was considered a pariah for elders because of its silly lyric.

As I danced with my friends, I too would sing and break into laughter. The very word ‘Bherbheri’ was funny as nobody had ever heard a girl with such a name. The laughter kept us from completing our singing.

It’s only after I became a journalist and started covering, among others, women’s issues, that the song started making sense. I started wondering about this mother of Bherbheri. Who was she? Why did she name her girl ‘Bherbheri?’ Why wasn’t she allowed to dance? Who was this ‘Big Man’ who stopped her? Was it her husband or her father in-law? And, above all, why was the song considered silly? Was it because it spoke of an ugly reality?

Pondering over one song led me to another. In our village, every now and then, some women would come and beg for work or for food. My mother would always try to find work for them. One day, one such woman was weaning rice, while she started singing ’Ronger oto shamay na go, bare bare kaitam.’

Roughly translated, it means ‘It’s not something amusing that I like to talk about again and again’. I was curious and listened quietly as the woman sang on: ’Yesterday you beat me/broke my nose ring/if one wants, he can indeed go/to the market and/get a new nose ring…’

The song was a long one; it was a long tale of a woman battered by her husband. Every limb in the woman’s body was sore from the beating and the song – with an extremely melancholic tune – was a cry rising straight out of her heart.

After a few weeks, the woman was back. This time she had a new song and it was pure helplessness: ‘my hand and legs are trembling/Oh god, which country shall I escape to?’

I have remembered and hummed those two songs a hundred times in past few years. It has since downed upon me that the woman wasn’t just talking of the physical pain that she bore, but had other issues too. She obviously was a woman who still lived with her tormentor, hoping that things would change. Yet they didn’t and now the woman’s miseries increased manifold in which, added to physical violence was neglect, injustice and helplessness.

For past 6 years, I have been collecting folk songs from villages along this Indo-Bangla border. In my collection, there are songs that describe the anguish of women with vivid clarity:

“shisukale putrer adhin/jaubankale swamis adhin/bridhokale putrer adhin”

(As a child, I was a slave of my father/as a young woman, as slave of my husband and as an old woman, I am a slave of my son)

The song definitely is a lamentation of a woman who never tasted freedom in all her life.

In another song the woman cries “Oh god, I feel like tearing open my chest and show my injuries, but who is there to see them?”

Illiterate, unorganized and alone, but women victims of domestic violence have been telling to the world, the cruelty that they are facing day in and day out.

The question is are we ready yet, to pause, listen and accept as this rustic, yet true documentation of the violence? If we do, it will certainly help us better equip ourselves in the fight against violence against women and emerge as a safer, better society.

Healing greens for a sick economy

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 13:26:00 +0000

It’s not every day that you get to hear something good and positive from North East India – an underdeveloped region where dozens of armed insurgent groups are fighting the government, demanding separate states. Today, however, is an exception because, I just learned of something that is worth a thousand smiles: the government of Tripura, the smallest state in the region, has decided to encourage cultivation of medicinal plants and rare herbs among locals.

“If successfully implemented, the new plan would boost the economy of the state,” says a press statement by Tripura Forest Development and Plantation Corporation (TFDPC). According to the statement, TFDPC would begin by giving financial and technical support to the locals for cultivating Kalmegh (Andrigraphis Paniculata) and Shatamuli (Asparagus Recemosus Wild).

Shatamuli or Asparagus Recemosus Wild, a herb used to revitalize female reproductive organs, cure gastrointestinal disorders and as an external wash for wounds.

India has, of late, seen great growth in its herbal industry. According to the Associated Chamber of Commerce and Industry, the herbal industry is currently worth INR 7,500,crore (approx $2 billion) and set to reach Rs.15,000 crore (approx $4 billion) by 2015. The growth has increased the demand of herbs and medicinal plants manifold. For example, a kg of Shatamuli seeds now fetches about INR 4,000 in the market.

It’s no wonder then, that Tripura - where the economy is currently in the doldrums - would notice this growing demand of herbs. Severely cash-strapped, the state recently halted all its development schemes and is now waiting for a bailout package of INR 14,600 crore (approx $4 billion) from the central government in New Delhi.

The state, however, has at least 200 species of medicinal plants and herbs and also great traditional knowledge of their use among locals.

I grew up in this state and have been using the herbs since I was a child. Once, when I had mumps, my mother applied a coat of wax from an Amaltas pod. It cured me in 2 days. On another occasion, I had severe dysentery, and recovered by drinking juice extracted of Land Lotus leaves.

But, we never knew that the same plants could also fetch us money.

The Land Lotus

Our village in Tripura’s Kailashahar district is a symbol of what the rest of the region is like: beautiful, but impoverished. Our rice fields are rain-fed and produce only one crop a year. Marginal farmers, we need more resources to survive and having no other options, many of us have resorted to making hooch and smuggling cattle across Bangladesh border - barely 4 km away. Migration is rampant and in past one decade alone, several families – including mine – have left the village for a better life. With their departure, the village gardens, unattended, have become patches of weeds.

For past 5 years, I have been visiting my village, trying to re-grow the herbs in our garden: Brahmi (Centella Asiatica), Sawtooth, Kalmegh, Shatamuli, Basak (Justicia Adhatoda) and many more. Recently, I have also started a blog called whisperinggreens.blogspot.com where I share our traditional knowledge of the herbs and medicinal plants and encourage the readers to use and conserve them.

Healing greens in my garden: Brahmi - a herb used in cardiac, nerve and brain tonics and Sawtooth - aromatic herb used in cooking for digestive properties

The plan of TFDPC to promote herbs cultivation has, therefore, great significance for me and my community. It means, we can get loans to grow the herbs, the medicinal plants and sell them directly to the government at market price. But above all else, our villagers can finally quit making hooch or smuggling cattle and earn a living in a healthier way: growing the healing greens.

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This post was submitted to the United Nations World Environment Day blogging competition, sponsored by the United Nations Environment Program (UNEP). The theme of the competition is “The Green Economy: Does it Include You?”

Female infanticide - what's a float got to do with it?

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 12:54:00 +0000

Yesterday, we celebrated our 63rd day of power to the people or, as we call it, the Republic day. As is the custom, the celebration had, among other things, glimpses of our art and culture, shown through a number of floats. And this year, among dozen+ floats that rolled on the Rapath - the road that is the main venue of the Republic day parade in New Delhi - was one from the eastern state of Bihar that highlighted a local village tradition in which, when a girl child is born, the family celebrates the birth by planting fruit-bearing trees. There is a deep meaning: the birth of a girl, a life giver , is celebrated by creating a chain of 10 other life-givers (trees that can bear fruits or seeds).

The missing float of Bihar that highlighted a village tradition where birth of a girl child is celebrated by planting 10 trees.

This is a wonderful tradition and to speak of it on an event that's attended and watched by millions of citizens, is a great way to spread the message of rights of a girl child. And, considering we have a dwindling sex ratio (An estimated 1 million female fetuses are selectively eliminated in India each year, and that number is expected to rise to 2.5 million within the next few years), this float about a tradition that welcomes and celebrates girl children is the one with the most important message of the day- one that India really needs to be aware of.

But guess what? Today, when the Press Information Bureau of India (PIB) reported the R-day celebration on its website, the Bihar tableau just didn't figure anywhere! The site has put up photos of most tableau except the most important one! When a friend of mine told me about it, I checked and tried to send a feedback to the site managers. Surprise! on the Press Information Bureau's website, the feedback button doesn't work!

To me, this kind symbolizes the treatment that the issue of female foeticide or infanticide meets in India: there are plans, laws, schemes and events to stop it, but somewhere it all goes down just as a ritual with two important elements missing - passion and a sense of urgency. Otherwise, how can the PIB officials missed to remember the most striking float, with the most urgent message?

Salman Rushdie vs Sohagi Let: Wrong Reported vs Wrong Unreported

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 13:36:00 +0000

On January 23rd, as India was busy celebrating the birth anniversary of freedom fighter Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, in Jaipur, the government was busy curtailing the freedom of speech of Salman Rushdie and four other writers who read out of his (banned) book the Satanic Verses. And lost between these two incidents was the voice of a frail woman called Sohagi Let - who was paraded, half naked, around two villages in Rampurhat, West Bengal - the state that now has a woman as its Chief Minister.

Does the name Rampurhat ring a bell? It should. After all this is the same place where, in Aug 2010 (not so long ago, isn't it?) Sumita Murmu - a young tribal woman - was paraded naked around 6 villages. Later, Sumita was honored with a bravery award by the government in New Delhi. (Happy ending for Sumita, but obviously not the end of the sickening act of criminal treatment of women, which seems to have become a trend).

Both Sumita and Sohagi have committed the same "crime": fall in love with a man of their choice.

Sohagi, however, is far more unluckier than Sumita. Daughter of a poor cycle rickshaw driver, she was earlier married to a man who wasn't mentally stable. She had no option but to return to her parents' home soon. Later she met Tamal, a distant cousin who she loved and married. A day after the marriage, Tamal's family caught hold of her, cut her hair, stripped her of her sari, beat her up and paraded her. The reason? They didn't approve of the marriage.

2 days later, Sohagi is in the district hospital. She has had internal bleeding, among other injuries. Will she be able to live a normal life again? Nobody knows that. Her father, bed-ridden with a broken arm, is too helpless to support her.

Now, why did I take the name of Salman Rushdie here? Because, while the media dedicated pages and hours of airtime to report Salman Rushdie being denied permission to visit or speak at Jaipur literary festival, a barbaric incident like Sahagi's case has barely got any attention. Save a couple of newspapers, the incident didn't appear anywhere else.

Also, millions of Indian netizens who joined the protest of Government repression on freedom of speech, remained totally unaware of gross violation of the rights and dignity of a woman in a woman-led state. Also went unquestioned the gross failure of a police station to protect women its jurisdiction even after the case of Sumita Murmu 1nd half year ago.

It is said that Salman Rushdie episode took place because election in Uttar Pradesh is around the corner. It is a poll issue. Is then Sohagi unlucky not to be beaten up on the eve of an election?

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Let Us Go Deaf!

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 08:20:00 +0000

Call it my sickness or obsession, but a day for me isn't complete without reading a bunch of about 20 newspapers. Today, one of them, published from Bhutan, caught my eye with a headline: Deaf Nation puts Bhutan in it's travel map. Curious, I was soon digging into it. Turns out, Deaf Nation is a community of deaf people. Founded in 2003, deafnation.com - the website of the community calls itself "a trusted one-stop center for deaf and hard of hearing news." The site, among others, has travel videos shot on different locations across the world - all in the sign language.

Its both sad and stupid that for over ten hundred thousand strong deaf community, not a single TV channels has an iota of space. Photo courtesy: Loghi Dei Progetti

As I toured the site, I was suddenly reminded of our good old state broadcaster Door Darshan (DD); every Sunday, on DD there used to be a half-an hour news show for people with hearing problems. As a kid, I always found it very amusing, to hear a newscaster reading the headlines of the week and then to watch another newscaster translating the same in hand movements that seemed both strange and mysterious.

I have not watched DD channel on a Sunday for ages and don't know if the show still continues. But what I know, and realized as a shock, that out of the 200+ Satellite and cable channels that we have today, not a single one has a single show for deaf people!

If I go dissecting a bit, we have a bouquet of niche channels on every possible theme: news, entertainment, sports, food, fashion, environment, music, religion, children and history. In some categories like news and 'infotainment', we have more than nearly a hundred channels - including the regional ones. But not one of them has a minute of airtime to spare for deaf people!

Now, what is our deaf population? Unfortunately, there is no credible list that gives you a fixed number. But it is estimated that in every 1,000 Indians, 1.2 people are deaf. Now, since we are 1.7 billion people, the number of deaf people should be around 10,000,000. That's almost like the total population of a small nation. Now imagine an entire nation being denied any space on television.

What would it take our TV channels to change this? I don't think it would cost them much, especially media houses like Z, Star and Sony that have bought a lot of bandwidth, and to utilize it, have launched a huge number of channels, half of which nobody watches. On those channels, they keep playing ridiculously old American sitcoms like Full House - made when May Kate and Ashley Olsen were 3 year old! What would they lose by introducing a show for the deaf people that would be truly groundbreaking? They can take some tapes from one of their own channels and 'dub' it in the sign language.

I believe it is possible. What I doubt is, our television industry is ready to be that humane yet.

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Cases of river poisoning in India is on the rise

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 17:32:00 +0000

It was in November 2011 that I wrote about two rivers in the North East India being regularly poisoned by some miscreants who used Endosulfan in the river upstream to kill fish and make a quick buck by selling them in the market.

A few weeks later, I can safely (and sadly) say that what seemed to be an isolated case of river poisoning barely 2 months ago, is now slowly turning into a sickening trend elsewhere in India. This time, it is the rivers of Dooars (northern West Bengal) that are under attack.

Gholani - one of the rivers that's been poisoned last week

I have been closely following the developemnts and from my observations, almost half a dozen rivers have been poisoned between Dec 15 and Jan 15 alone.
Here are the names of the rivers that I am aware of being poisoned: Karala, Dharala, Baliadaha, Bamani, Gholani and Derikamari. In all of these six rivers, the poisoning has happened at least once, and,in some cases, more than once.

The poisoning of Karala - which flows through the region's largest city Jalpaiguri was reported in the media. Following the reports, the authorities conducted tests that confirmed the poisoning.

However, poisoning of rivers continued despite the the outrage over Karala incident and has gone largely unreported. What are the chemicals used in the poisoning? Endosulfan 1 and 2, methyl parathion, dieldrin, chlorphy-rifos, methyl malathion and DDT.

The majority of the population living in the village that the rivers flow through, are poor and living below poverty line. Each time the poisoning has been noiticed only when layers of dead fish is seen floating on the river. Locals have eaten the fish as well. It is not yet known if there have been cases of food poisoning or not.

Needless to say, this is a truly worrying trend. If not checked, the rivers will turn into killer water bodies,endangering the lives of lakhs and and livelihood of an estimated 10,000 fishermen of the region.

I hope the cases will be talked about in wider circles and investigated into. To let go off crimes like that will be an act of criminal negligence.

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Sometimes, Peace Means Letting Go

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 18:07:00 +0000

Sharing my story published on Peace X Peace - a women's media organization based in Washington DC, US.

“With my attacker dead, I decided that there was nothing I could gain by telling his stories. Instead, I could try helping his family…”
***

Sometimes, to make peace, you get to move on

One evening I was at the dentist’s clinic. I sat listening to him as he showed the x-rays he had earlier taken of my teeth and gum; there were several small cavities, one of my front teeth was almost dead, and, there was a big cyst in my gum.

“I can fix this, though we will need multiple root canal surgeries,” he said, before adding, “But I am really curious about how you got that cyst. You must have had a bad fall, a bad injury. There was internal bleeding.” “I don’t remember,” I said.

We left his clinic with an elaborate treatment plan in hand.

My best friend, who knew me well, was walking beside me. I could sense her curiosity and her eagerness to know yet another story of my life. But it didn’t come.

I came home, had dinner, and went to bed. But all night through, between the sound of passing vehicles and barking dogs, I kept hearing the doctor’s voice: “There must have been an accident.”

Yes, accident it sure was, but a deliberate one; one that broke my gum, but saved my dignity, my life.

I was in 8^th grade then. The family next door was celebrating the homecoming of their eldest son – a soldier in the Indian army. Handsome, smart and quite flamboyant, he was a favorite of the entire neighborhood. When he came home, all the neighborhood kids would crowd around his house, sharing the happy vibes that he sent around.

This time, there was another reason for them to be there. It turned out that the young man had been an apprentice dentist and was good at ‘tooth jobs.’ Now all the neighbors were eager to have him take a look at their children’s mouths and fix their cavities.

The ‘doctor’ had a special room with heavy curtains – a rarity in that small village of ours in the hilly northeast region of India where everything happened right in front of everyone. There was a Victorian armchair on which he had the patient lie down while he sat on a stool, almost hovering over.

Whenever I got a chance to peep, I found that the doctor’s hands were almost resting on the chest of the patient. But I would be shooed away quickly.

One day, it was my chance to be on that armchair. My tiny frame was almost buried in it, making it almost impossible to move, let alone stand up.

The doctor was “at work” soon. I felt his hand on my chest and soon his fingers were fiddling with my frock’s button, while his breath was on my mouth. I tried to scream, but his gloved hand shut me up. In the panic that followed I kicked my legs up, jumped, and while making a dash to the door, hit the door panel, hard.

I could feel the numbing pain not just in my swollen gum, but also in my heart and in my head. But I was already this unwanted, ugly child who was lucky enough to be alive. Over a dozen girls had gone into that room and reported nothing – how could I say anything? And who would listen? So, I suffered in silence.

In the years that followed I grew up, left my nest, and went to high school. Though my life didn’t become a bed of roses, I eventually found my voice and called a spade a spade.

And yet I have decided never to tell anyone about that man who had perhaps molested many children and would have molested and maybe even raped me, had I not fought back and escaped.

Why did I decide something like that? Because, by the time I started voicing my thoughts, I learned of the death of that man. A heavy drinker, he had died of liver cirrhosis. Now his wife and his two young daughters were struggling to survive.

With my attacker dead, I decided there was nothing I could gain by telling his stories. Instead, I could try helping his family; I could see that his daughters – who already had suffered a lot because of his alcoholism – were not taken advantage of by a creep because they were poor and fatherless. As the editorial head in a community media organization, I contacted the family and extended an offer for them to earn a living by making videos.

It wasn’t easy. But I had two options: to talk about a bad guy who was now dead, or to invest my energy in preventing more of such cases in future.

I chose the latter. And I am happy. Sometimes, you need to let go to make peace.

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Inspiration in the land of despair - A story re-told

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 12:26:00 +0000

The following is my article that has just been published in World Pulse - an action media powered by women of 185 countries. The article is my 2nd assignment as a Voice of the Future Correspondent - an honor I received in Nov'2011 by World Pulse. You can also read it here. Why am I sharing this here? Because, it is not everyday that you get to hear that a landless and tribal woman, despite being caught in between the frying pan and burning pyre (the Maoists and the Army), is trying to do pull a community out of poverty, discrimination and injustice.

Me and my muse: with Sukhantibai, the barefoot soldier who fights social injustice with the weapons she has: strong will and honesty.

November’2005. In Handitola- a remote village in central India, people were faced with a horrific situation: a young Dalit (a marginalized community) man had hung himself and the body was on the verge of decomposing. But nobody dared go near him. They all had their reasons: for some, the boy was an ‘untouchable’, while others were plain scared. Then, a woman of 50 came up, with a sickle in her hand. She stood upon a stool, and, as the whole village stared in fear and awe, cut the rope and lowered the body. Next week, in a meeting in which they had to decide who would be their ‘Sarpanch’ - the head of the village council, everyone voted for this woman – the most courageous one among them. And that is how Sukhantibai - a Gond (a primitive tribe) woman, became the ‘Sarpanch’.

In The Line Of Fire

7 years later, I am meeting Sukhantibai today. I have traveled for 3 days to reach her village in Rajnandgan – one of the 78 districts identified by the government of India as ‘Maoist affected,’ meaning places that have borne maximum brunt of the Government vs Maoists (communists) armed conflict.

On my way, I have been feeling the suspicious glare of several people, and, since I reached the district, my mobile phone has gone off the network.
Now, sitting in an old, rickety bus, I feel like walking on the fire: this is a land where people, suspected as police informers or Maoist sympathizers, often vanish without a trace. Sometimes they end up in a jail, other times only bullet-ridden bodies are found. Today, I could be one of them.
However, coming from the North east India, another conflict zone, I know how to ignore those glaring eyes and shrug off these thoughts. So, instead, I focus on what I have come to do: find out how a woman – especially a marginalized one like Sukhantibai - manages to live in this war zone and head an entire village.

A ‘Sarpanch’ Without A Toilet

However, once I reach her village, I am told that the ‘sarpanch’ has gone to supervise the work being carried out under the government's rural employment scheme. In the two hours that I wait, I look around her house (a mud hut with uneven walls and a tiny courtyard): there is a wood stove, a couple of earthen pots and a few small tins containing tea leaf and spices. This is her kitchen. A few feet away, on a line, dry a few pieces of clothes. I look around and see no toilets. As I begin to wonder if she lives without a toilette, a woman with dusty feet and dreadlocks enters the home, with folded hands and a wide smile. Now, finally I have met the ‘sarpanch’ of Handitola.

I ask her straightaway: 'Why can't I see any toilet in your house?'

Her smile fades immediately. She replies, 'the government has a plan to provide toilet for all. It's called 'Nirmal gaon yojana’ (clean village scheme). My village has received money to implement this scheme. But there is a huge scarcity of water in the village. Without enough water, what is the point of building a toilet?'
‘So, how long will you live without a toilet?’ I want to know.

'I have applied for running water supply to the village. The money is coming in small amounts. There are 450 families here. So far, 170 of them have received water and toilets. I am trying to ensure that the rest of the families get them before my term ends.’

Her answer is candid, but there is something she is withholding: since her house is at the end of the village, she will be among the last to receive the benefits of any scheme. Because, normally, the supply starts at the beginning of the village.

This is an important fact about the kind of sarpanch she is: if she wanted, she could have got the water straight to her house, like most others do. But she has instead let herself be among the "rest" who will have to wait for their turn to come. This is a sign of her honesty.

From Village Laborer To The Village Head

‘It is this honesty that probably has helped her enabled her win everyone’s trust, including the Maoists who are known for opposing any government development project,’ I think. Presently, I want to know what inspired her to enter politics - a profession not known for too many marginalized leaders, let alone women.
Her story is as captivating as her smile and as I listen, my fatigue and the previous discomfort of being ‘watched’ vanishes fast:

As a poor landless tribal woman, she worked as a laborer in the house of the 'Patel' - the richest man in her village. Life was difficult and after 5th grade she could not study further. At 15 years of age, she was married, to a marginal farmer of the same village. In next few years, she became the mother to four children - two boys and two girls. Her village then had no electricity, no roads and no drinking water save a single pond that was full only during the monsoon.

Then one day, in 1992, she met someone from the government health department who told her about Leprosy - a disease dreaded by her entire village. 'Contrary to what people think, Leprosy is curable and the treatment is totally free', he told her 'if you find anyone who doesn't know this, share this information with them.'

After he left, Sukhantibai thought, ‘I must share this information with as many people as possible’. So, she organized a health awareness camp in her village and the response was tremendous: people came from faraway villages. 'They had advanced state of leprosy; some had lost fingers, others had no toes. Though I had only planned to tell them about the availability of medicine, I ended up cleaning their wounds, bandaging, taking their contact details and then informing the district health center to distribute medicine to these people. It made me very happy to see these people, who had given up all hopes on life, now getting hopes again,' she recalls. And that is how she came to discover the joy of serving people.

That this 'joy' is not a cliche, becomes evident when I go out with her on a tour of her village. The village school, previously offering only elementary level education, has been upgraded to secondary level. There are separate toilets for boys and girls. Also, the village boasts of a primary health center, a large playground, a community hall, a community temple, electricity poles and drinking water taps. As she shows me these like a champion shows off his trophies I catch the pride of a rural woman who has been successful in doing something for her community - usually a deprived lot.

We meet several villagers during the tour. Sukhantibai pauses for a while to meet each and everyone. She scolds a woman for cleaning her plates in front of the house ('you have to stop being so irresponsible. Days are changing. Use the backyard for all your cleaning jobs’), massages the feet of an elderly woman ('are you feeling any better, Amma?') who has been suffering from joint pain and asks a group of children why they were not playing (‘children must play to stay fit’, she tells me later). Unlike most politicians, her camaraderie with the villagers is genuine because, she is the daughter of this village who, from the level of a domestic help, has risen to the rank of the village head. To inspire them to join school, she herself took up books at the age of 53 and passed 8th grade under the Open school system. And she is sharing the problems of the entire village, especially when it comes to land and water.

‘My family bought this house from the Patel, who I worked for’, she explains, sadness welling in her voice, ‘it has been 15 years since then, but he still has not transferred the ownership of the land in our name. I keep requesting him, but he ignores me, as though he still is my employer.'

‘So, are you not considering approaching the court?’ I can’t resist asking.

She replies, 'I do (consider filing a case) that every now and then. But then I think of the problems of others in my village that I must solve: lack of safe drinking water, lack of water to irrigate their fields and no toilets. I, then, forget my own grief. Court cases are lengthy affairs and I have no time to get involved into that right now.'

Give The Best You Have, And The Best Will Come Back To You

Her reply takes me by surprise: in India, one of the most corrupt countries in the world, where finding an honest politician is like finding water in the desert, I have a woman who has no time to think of her own needs! As though she can read my thoughts, Sukhantibai says, 'I know the land ownership is my right, but I at least have enough to eat a square meal and wear a coarse sari. My people here don't even have that. If I, the sarpanch, start feeling sorry for myself, who will feel for my people?' she asks.

‘But, what about the day when you are no longer the sarpanch? Will these people help you then?’ I want to know.
Confidence oozes out of her voice: ‘My people have selected me for a second term and I know that as long as I put them before me, they will put me ahead of them. They will never let me down’.

And then she breaks into a wide smile. 'We have ‘Mandai’ (a fair) in the village today? Come, let’s go there and have some fun', she says with the enthusiasm of a teenager.

As we walk to the Mandai venue, Sukhantibai tells me that alcoholism is a growing problem among the village youth and during festivals like Mandai it just grows out of proportion. ‘Earlier, our people (tribal) consumed only organic drinks, made out of Mahua (a local flower) flower. But now, people from outside come here and sell adulterated alcohol which is killing our young people,’ she says.

So what is she doing to stop this? ‘I deal with them like I would deal with my own grandsons: tell them that I will break their legs if I catch them drunk,’ she says with a smile, yet sounding serious.

Inspiration, In The Land Of Despair
The ‘Mandai’ has several makeshift food kiosks. Sukhantibai enters one that is run by two young women and orders two plates of samosas and tea. Looking fondly at the women, she tells me ’10 years ago, none of our girls would step outside their homes. Today, they are running shops and businesses. It makes me very happy. But, I want them to enter politics also. Women must have a say in the affairs of the village.’

It’s getting dark and time for me to leave. Tomorrow, I will travel to another village, to meet more women who live in this conflict zone, but are trying to do something constructive. Tomorrow, I will court the danger yet again. Will I fare well? I don't know. But right now, under the setting winter sun, with the dusty road under my feet, and the invisible guns somewhere behind the border of the village, I hug Sukhantibai - a barefoot soldier who is fighting a war against discrimination, injustice and poverty with the only weapons she has: strong will and honesty.

And now I am inspired enough to walk another hundred mile.

NSCN, KNO say 'No' to Land Mines, Will others follow the suit?

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 14:30:00 +0000

***Follow me on Twiiter@stellasglobe***

Its not everyday that one gets to hear news from the North East (NE) India - especially of the insurgent outfits - that can bring a smile on one's face. Well, today is that rare day. Because, today I heard something that is worth a bunch of smiles: 3 insurgent outfits in our NE have taken a pledge against using anti-personnel (AP) land mines. The outfits are the National Social Council of Nagaland (NSCN), Kuki National Organization or KNO (an umbrella organization of several outfits) and Zomi Re-unification Organization (I have never heard of the 3rd, but whoever they are, I am sure they believe in being humane).

Thousands of ordinary citizens in the North east and elsewhere are helpless preys of the Anti-personnel mines (Photo courtesy: P Min)

The news immediately made me think of my friend Benjamin (not his real name) a Kuki man living near Indo-Burma border town of Moreh. Last year, during a conversation Ben told me that one of the hazards that he risked everyday was getting blown by a landmine. Now, Ben is a Kuki tribal himself. But like thousands of others, he too is just a helpless, possible prey to the mines; not knowing where the mine was buried, he could step on one because the insurgents were not going to tell him 'don't go there brother, we got a mine in there.' Ben's fear is not an imagination; till today, 88 people in Kuki community alone have been killed by landmine blasts so far - a fact gathered by the prominent anti-mine campaign organization Control Arms Foundation of India.

In his mid-twenties, loss of limbs terrified Ben - an emerging student leader who dreams of leading his community someday.

Now, the pledge and signing of the Deed of Commitment under an initiative called Geneva Call by KNO (along with its arch rival NSCN) means that Ben's life will be sans that one fear of killed or crippled by a landmine.

Now, while I am happy for Ben, I can't help wishing that the United Liberation Front of Assam (ULFA) - unquestionably the largest and most powerful insurgents groups in my region was one of the signatories as well. Why only ULFA, I wish each of the 100 odd insurgent groups operating across North east (and elsewhere as well) had also taken the pledge.

Unfortunately, they have not and AP mines are continuing to be used. As a result, civilians - most of them women - continue to fall victims (on Dec 2 a young girl was injured in Kashmir's Kupwara by an accidental mine blast) all over the country. And, thanks to the continued use by the insurgents, global use of landmines in 2011 has been the highest for seven years, according to a report by International Campaign to Ban Landmines (ICBL) - a global campaigner against landmines. The report says that use of landmines has been on the rise, especially in Israel, Libya, Syria and our next door neighbor in the North east -Burma. Burma is also one of the only three countries that still produces the mines, with Pakistan and India being two others.

To follow the simple marketing logic, the supply stops when the demand stops. If landmines are not used, they will not have to be produced. Since every insurgent outfit is fighting for the rights of the people it represents (often a deprived lot - either economically or/and politically), it is only logical that they should make this very tropical change in their strategy and stop subjecting their people to more sufferings than what they already go through. By signing the Geneva call , the NSCN and KNO have set an precedent for others to follow. Will that happen?
I will never stop hoping for that.

Women and Voting? Shut Up!

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 10:29:00 +0000

Four more weeks and India's largest state Uttar Pradesh (UP)will go into election. But in a village called Sehruwa under UP's Lakhimpur -Kheri district, only half the population will cast its vote; the other half - all of them women - will stay away from the polling booths. Why? Because in this village voting by women is forbidden.

Yes, crazy it might sound, but in Sehruwa village women have never voted. And I mean NEVER. It is said that soon after 1947, men of the village got together and decided that women need not vote - which has been in practice even today. And guess what! Sehruwa is only 144 km away from Lucknow where Mayawati - the state's (woman) chief minister resides and rules.

By size, Sehruwa isn't very big. Home to 193 families, it has a population of 1278 people, of them 576 are women. 324 of these women (this is the number of women above 18) are illiterate. None of the women work outside their homes, even in the rural employment schemes, its only the men who take part.

Now, the question that one comes up with is obviously 'why don't women of Sehruwa vote?' And here is your answer:
Because, they don't have a voter ID card.
And why don't they have a voter ID?
Because, to get that, one has to get photographed. The Sehruwa, 70% people belong to the Muslim Pathan community (the rest are Dalit- just like Mayawati herself is). The men of the community won't allow their women to remove their veils (violates the 'tradition', they say) which makes it impossible to get a photo taken. No photos, no voter id, no votes. Things don't get any simpler - and idiotic - than this, do they? But this has been in pactice since 1847.

If you have any more question, maybe these should be directed to the state Election Commission or, the political parties, each of which talks of women empowerment?

***This isn't a blog against any religious community, but against injustice and ignorance***

In Photos: What's on a woman's plate in rural Chhattisgarh?

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 18:22:00 +0000

In the local markets, there are a lot of vegetables. But at INR 20 and more a Kg, most women I met find it beyond their reach. So, what most of them buy are, the cheapest ones like tomatoes (Rs 10 a kg) or cauliflower (Rs 5 a piece)

Winter, however,is a season of blessings with leafy vegetables ('bhaji' as they call it there) like chickpea leaves selling at an affordable rate, and is healthy as well.

Lentil leaves are also popular. And every woman is drying a great amount of those leaves, to store them for the hard times: the Summer when water scarcity will be at its worst and fresh vegetables will be but a tall dream.

Also drying in the sun are anything leftover - whether it is bits of vegetables salvaged from a dried up field, or pieces of meat, left uneaten. It will all be used up in the Summer.

For protein, most women depend on 'Kunthi' a locally grown cereal, belonging to the lentil family. Chickpea or soya beans are cooked, but only once in a while, if they can grow on their own.

On rare occasions, she gets to eat 'Pakodi' - dip fried dumplings. On the new year, this is all that the women in the village that I was in, could afford. Some chopped spinach leaves, dipped in a batter of powdered rice and dip fried. Though, not much of nutrition there, it made them smile!

When it comes to drink, most women I met take a lot of black tea (tea without milk). To add taste, a bit of crushed ginger is added. I have not seen any woman - young or old, taking milk or curd - both of which seem extremely unaffordable. Result: though they appear to be healthy, most young women are suffering from multiple ailments, ranging from irregular menstruation to dizziness.

With just a plateful of rice and a little bit of curried tomato/leafy veg or occasional daal/lentil soup, the average intake of nutrition for a tribal woman in Bastar is quite low. Thank god that there is at least an option for pregnant women, lactating mothers and children under 6, to get some nutrition. This food in the picture is a multi-grain cereal that the government gives for free, once a week.

But what about the nutrition requirement of the majority - women who are neither pregnant, nor nursing, but are working over 15 hours a day, laboring hard at farms and homes? They offer the best part of the meal cooked to their men, as is the custom. The result: at mid-twenties, they look like old women.

Chhattisgarh: How Does a Woman Sarpanch Work in Bastar?

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 08:51:00 +0000

The participation of Indian women in the political process, especially at the hyperlocal level, has been on the rise since reservation of 33% of seats in the village councils came into force. In the tribal belt of Bastar, women actually have 50% seats reserved for them. But, with the Government Vs Maoist conflict raging, how is that reservation helping? How does a woman village head work?

Kalavati and I: It would be easy to criticize this Sarpanch for not doing enough, but it would be wiser to try to understand the reasons that force this under-performance

To find the answer, I have met 23 women Sarpanch (head of the the village council) in Bastar, 15 of them are in forest areas where the Maoist activists are very active. Let me share the story of Kalavati Salam - the sarpanch of one such village panchayat.

Kalavati - a mother of two junior school students, entered politics unwillingly, when, 3 years ago, villagers unanimously decided that she would be the best candidate to lead them. What made them choose her? In a community of 2000 people (her panchayat actually comprises of 3 villages - Nagarbeda, Sundurimeta and Etegaon)), Kalavati is the only woman who has studied upto 12th grade.

This is the 3rd year of her term. How has been the journey so far? She begins a little mechanically, citing the works she has done: 'I built an anganwadi (a health cum study center for toddlers), got 4 borewells and a community pond...'

However, I had seen piles of stone chips and bricks lying unused by the mud road leading to her village. Also, at the entrance, there is an arch, left unfinished. Now I ask her 'Why doesn't your village have a motorable road yet?'

Her reply confirms what I had earlier heard: 'I had the road project sanctioned. The materials started to reach. Then they came and stopped the work'.

'Who are "they"?'
'Maovadi' (Maoists), she says, and adds 'they ordered the bulldozer driver and the truckers carrying the stone chips not to show up again. Then they asked me not to pursue the matter.'
She doesn't know if this road will ever be completed. Will it not affect her record as a village head? Won't people judge her performance were she to contest the election again after two years?

She looks uncertain and also a little uncomfortable: 'I don't know. I hope people understand my position,' she finally answers, looking away.

Stalled development projects, however, isn't her only problem. Of her seven women village council members, 5 can't read or write, while 2 are barely literate. The result: despite having 7 female colleagues, she has to do everything on her own, from drafting an application to running to the block administrative office every now and then, and finally, supervise all the work.

Has she tried arranging for a training workshop for her female colleagues?
'I spoke to the district administration,'.
'And?'
'They called me to attend a few workshops both in Raipur (state capital) and in New Delhi,' she says with a smile that appears rather sad to me.
'But how does that help your women colleagues?' I want to know.
'It doesn't. But nobody here understands,' she says, her voice giving away a strain of helplessness.

But feeling helpless alone won't do. So, Kalavati tells me her plan for next 2 years: focus on what nobody has opposed yet: supply of safe drinking water, basic healthcare and create alternative work for women. Of all the villages that I have visited so far, Kalavati's panchayat appears the most water starved; not a single house has a patch of vegetables or even a pumpkin creeper on the tiled roof - a remarkable exception to other households in the block.

Lack of water, dried fields and now lack of work opportunities are sending the village men outisde, leaving their women and children. Kalavati is trying to provide work to these women; in her home, I see 20 women preparing food for the Anganwadi toddlers.

The primary health center is open only a few hours everyday and has only first aid facility. As a result, women are forced to deliver at home as the hospital is one day's journey away. Kalavati wants to see the health center providing better service, another tough task ahead. 'The official is someone from the town; he dosn't want to live in this village due to the fear (of the Maoists) and commutes from his home. By 3 pm, he locks the center. In our village, there is nobody who is qualified enough to take his place.'

As I listen, I can't help feel a little skeptic: every party here - the government, the Maoists and corporate-backed development organizations - has an agenda that talks of welfare of 'people'. Yet there are women like Kalavati who, despite enough political will, have to struggle to pull their people from the clutches of utter deprivation. How would you explain this paradox?

Chhattisgarhnama II: "Keep 16 Suhagans ready"

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 10:30:00 +0000

The twin evils of Displacement and Forced Migration are dogging both men and women in tribal belt of Chhattisgarh, especially Bastar, but its the women who are the worst affected

So far, I have visited 22 villages in 4 districts of Chhattisgarh that have been officially declared as 'Maoist Affected' (a term used to indicate the intense armed conflict between the government and the Maoist activists). And, everywhere I have heard and seen what I had suspected: its women who are the worst affected by the conflict.

Let me begin with Khemi - a Madia (a primitive trbe) girl who lived in Abujhmarh of the state. Until a year ago, Abujhmadh was a protected area where one needed a special permission from the Government of India to visit. The reason was to protect the unique (and vulnerable) culture of the Madia people.

But as the Maoist vs Govt conflict intensified, the authorities decided to lift the restricted label off Abujhmarh, considered a Maoist stronghold, so the army and other security forces could take action there.

As expected, there has been chaos since then. The Maoists opposed the Government decision, saying it would not fare well either for the government, or for the tribals. But the government was not in a mood to back down.

Caught in this chaos has been Khemi (name changed),

a young woman who, despite being through a lot, still smiles easilly. If life had followed its usual course, Khemi would have been married by now, maybe even on the way to motherhood. Instead, today she is in Kanker, a different district, far away from her family and her near ones who continue to live n Abujhmarh. As marginal farmers, they have no other means to manage a square meal except staying put on their land.

What would have happened if Khemi had stayed on? Consider a number of things: being a forced 'suhagan'/wife (last week, I was told by the residents of a village that they had been asked by the Maoists to 'arrange for 16 young women' who would be 'Suhagan's. Is this a vicious rumor? There is a possibility, but, considering 95% of the people I am speaking with are village women, I would believe what I hear).

If Khemi did not become a Maoist's wife, she would still be troubled. Due to the growing conflict, girls of her age have limited freedom of movement and are confined to their homes. And then there is extreme poverty - a mixed result of climate change and decreased crops (several areas in Bastar have seen drought this year), suspension of all development works, and the extra burden of sharing their food with Maoist cadres.

Today Khemi is learning carpentry and bamboocraft in a government-run workshop. This might help her find a life of economic independence one day. But I doubt if this will ever compensate for what she has lost: her life in the community, the close contact with her loved ones and her roots.

Mano is now a grass root social activist, thanks to Disha, a local org that is bringing in its fold several young men and women like Mano. Such effort is commendable, but there is a need for a comprehensive plan to restore the lost rights of women like Mano and Khemi

Like Khemi, Mano is another young tribal woman who has been uprooted from her village in Bastar. Her village has no motorable road - and will probably not have one either, as the Maoists are opposed to connectivity which they see as a direct assault on their security - and no scope to earn (road projects are one of the few means of rural employment and suspension of such projects means direct loss of livelihood for the rural people). However, Mano has been lucky: courtesy a social movement called Disha, she has not only found a shelter in another village, but has also been given a job to raise community awareness on health issues.

There are hundreds of Khemis and Manos in the seven conflict-ridden districts of Chhattisgarh. Some live in refugee camps, while some have taken shelters in a faraway village or a town. Young, with little education, no money and no relatives by their side, they are the most vulnerable of all people in this region. They need special attention, but not as propaganda tools to be used against either the Maoists, or the army, but as citizens who have been robbed of their rights.

***In next blog, despite the difficulties, they are trying to do something good***

Chhattisgarhnama III: At 56, she labors hard, so her girls can stand on their feet.

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 08:48:00 +0000

Phulwanti - woman who is defying age and poverty to ensure the girls in her home grow up as strong, self-sufficient women.

Like so many of my aunts living in villages, Phulwanti Sahu of Machandur village in Chhattisgarh also can't say the year that she was born, or, how old she really is. Her ration card (the little book that allows her to buy food grains and sugar at a subsidized rate) shows she is 56. On the afternoon that I reach her home, a little girl playing in front of her house tells me that 'Ma' has gone to work in the field. This is, however, only half the truth; contrary to what it sounds like, Phulwanti is not working in her own farm. Instead, she is working as a laborer, in a neighbor's field, cutting the hard, uneven ground, making it even (Chhattisgarh government called it Bhumi sudhar yojana/land improvement scheme). This work, provided to her by the government for 100 days in a year, is Phulwanti's sole source of earning. With INR 122 per day, she earns INR 12,200 a year (about $250), that is, when the 'Thikedar'/supervisor is not corrupt and not cheating on her.

And she has three people to support: herself and two young, school-going girls.

Both the girls are her own grand children, but daughters of two different mothers. The elder one of them, Neha, was abandoned by her mother when she was 3 month-old. Her father, Phulwanti's son, is a migrant laborer who travels from state to state in search of work. A few years ago, he remarried, got three more children and decided to take care of two of them - both boys. So, the girl child - a 7 year old Dolly, was sent to the village, to Phulwanti. The old woman, who struggles to get a square meal for herself, took both the girls under her wings, and is today playing the multidimensional role a parent, a care giver and a friend.

There is a school in Phulwanti's village, but it provides education only upto the elemenatry level. Little Dolly studies here, while Neha, a student of 7th grade, has to travel 3 Km to go to her school. Under a government scheme, Phulwanti has got a toilet in her house, but like most other villages in the region, there is no water. Both Neha and Dolly wake up early and fill up old plastic cans (Phulwanti can't afford to buy either pitchers or buckets) from a borewell by the road - a good half a km from their house."The girls work very hard", says Phulwanti, with a flicker of pride in her eyes, "they sweep, clean, and store water. Neha also cooks at times. They know their grandmother is getting old and try to decrease my burden."

The burden, however, is not easy to lower. Neha is growing up fast and Phulwanti worries about the time she will get her menstruation. Walking 6 km a day is going to be tough, so will be the job of carrying all the water cans. The girls will need more nutrition in their daily diet. Besides, Phulwanti cooks over wood stove (cooking gas is beyond her reach and shockingly, the idea of biogas - the most affordable mode of cooking fuel to rural folks, is still alien here) and it might affect the girls' health.

But not one to watch helplessly, Phulwanti is doing all she can: planted years ago, there is a Moringa tree in her house which has started bearing fruits and Phulwanti, who can't find either the money or the time to buy vegetables from local market, often cooks Moringa for the girls. And this year, she offered her paddy grower farmers, to sell their paddy in the market for them, so she can earn some extra wages and one day buy a cycle for Neha.

'Girls must stand on their own feet', says Phulwanti who, despite having three children, is forced to earn her own bread at the age of 56

'I did not get to study. But two years ago, I learned from my own daughter (who studied upto 8th grade) how to add, subtract and multiply. I also learned how to deposit and withdraw money from a bank. My neighbors, who are busy and are also illiterate, find it convenient if someone did the job for them,' she says.

In villages around here, girls are married off at the age of 18, if not earlier. Phulwanti herself was married at 15. But for her granddaughters, she wants a different future. "Neha was abandoned by her own mother. Dolly has been left here by her father. How can you say that the husband will stay by them?, she asks and continues,"Women must have means to take care of themselves. I want my granddaughters to study as far as possible and start earning. They should never be dependent on anyone in future. As long as my hands and feet are strong enough, I will labor."

As she talks, I look at this woman; dressed in an old synthetic sari, grey, dry hair tied with a piece of cloth (torn off the border of a sari), with no slippers and calloused hands, she is your typical woman living below the poverty line. But her vision, coupled with her courage makes her a woman you don't dare feel sorry for; only bow to, in respect.

Chhattisgarhnama: 'Don't let anyone use that Internet'

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 07:44:00 +0000

There are stories galore, but no means to tell them. It reminds me of a poem by Rabindranath Tagore: 'I closed the door to stop the untruth/ now truth is asking me, 'how do I get in?'

It has been a good 9 days since I came to Chhattisgarh. In these 9 days, I have been able to access internet only once, when a social activist called Keshaw Shori (who heads an organization called Disha) graciously let me use his BSNL internet data card. And that is how I was able to write my earlier blog, as well as upload a picture on Facebook. 3 days later, I am in Kondagaon - a newly formed (1st Jan 2012 to be exact) district where I have met someone who doesn't want to be named. Lets call him Mr X. We met in a overcrowded jeep and after we reached the town, Mr X told me that I could use his laptop and data card for a day, provided nobody knew about it.

And this brings me to the topic of the day: communication in Chhattisgarh. It seems, lack of mobile or web access here is more of a strategic move, than a technical impossibility. And I have reasons to feel this way:

I began my journey from Rajnandgaon - a district in western Chhattisgarh, bordering Maharashtra's Gadchiroli. In this district, there is a town called Ambagarh Chowki, that has at least 5 computer centers with internet connections. But not a single one will allow you to use the internet, even after you show your press card and tell them that it is urgent; that you need to file your story.

'We are not to let any outsider (visitors like me) use the computers here. Also, cyber cafes are not allowed to operate here,' each of them says.

'Have you been denied a permission?' I ask

'Yes, several times. We can only allow people who want to use the computers for learning to type. If there are students of a computer engineering or something similar, they can do their homework here.'

But why is this restriction on Internet use? A local reporter - lets call her Ms Makram - who has faced a lot of questions from the local police for her work, tells me that it is because of Manpur and Mohola - two semi-urban localities within the district where the Maoists are very active. This is something I have been observing as well; in Manpur, I saw a banner that was put up just a couple of weeks ago, giving an open call to avenge the death of Kishenji, the highest ranked Maoist leader, gunned down by the security forces in late November.

In interior Chhattisgarh, the idea of communication facilities is distorted; dish antennas sell everywhere. But there is strict controlling of Information technology.

In Kanker district, where I spent 2 days, I was surprised to find a particular block totally cut off from the outside world. There were shops, a primary health center, a bus station, a taxi hub and several government offices. But not a single mobile network had coverage there, let alone internet. When I asked, everyone said that it was because the Maoists uprooted every mobile tower in the vicinity. However, one woman called Gandai later told me that a month ago, two soldiers (there is a big camp shared by a big police force and a batalion of paramilitary forces) had been talking on mobile phone which was heard by a group of Maoists. Immediately, the Maoists shot the soldiers dead. 'From then on, there has been no mobile network.', she concluded.

On my way to Kondagaon yesterday, I did see two mobile towers (one of them belonged to the Aditya Birla group owned IDEA network)lying on the ground, which I was told, was the handiwork of the Maoists. 'Don't the Maoists use mobile phones themselves?' I wonder aloud. Someone tells me 'they do, but not in areas where they suspect police informers are operating.'

Last evening, I was at a place called Narainpur where a local social activist with a laptop - and I can't take the name again - told me that every single phone here is tapped and everyone has been expected to report if they spot a 'new face'.

Who expects you to report this?
'Dono log'(both sides),' he says. looking around cautiously.

'And do you do this?' I want to know.
'Not on our own. But when you leave, we will be asked who you were, where you came from and what you said and did. The safest way for us is to tell all we know. Otherwise they will come again and again. We are also asked not to let anyone use any of our mobile phones or laptops.'
.
And this is why my internet service provider (pun intended) today will have to stay anonymous. But, here's a bagful of thanks, my friend, for your generosity!

The Missing ‘Mawattu’

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 05:07:00 +0000

Three years ago, I met someone who had a poetic way with words. As we grew fond of each other, he had a name for me ’Mawattu’- winter rain. ‘A “mawattu” is different from the monsoon downpour' he had said, 'right in the middle of the cold it comes, taking you by surprise, blowing stormy wind on your face, soaking the ground with hard drops and fallen yellow leaves. And before you know, it’s gone, leaving behind a handful of happiness.’

Flattered I sure was by the poetic comparison, but I remember spending more time thinking about the phenomenon Mawattu than my friend’s affection. My thought tookme to North east where, as a child I saw a woman blowing a conch shell when it rained one winter; she said it was a sign of gods playing and Varun – the Hindu god of rain, throwing his ‘rain ball’ at his divine friends.

3 years passed by. My poet friend and I have come a long way, in our own separate paths. Somewhere along the journey, I almost forgot about the Mawattu, until last evening when in a dusty little village of Bastar in Chhattisgarh state, sipping black ginger tea, an eighty year old man told me about the winter rain.

We were talking about the weather. I had expected Chhattisgarh to be quite cold and therefore, had come with lots of winter clothes. But it was very warm and at times quite hot. The man – landlord of a friend I was staying with, told me that the climate in the state has been rapidly changing, growing warmer every year. “I have been staying this house for eight years now. Eight year ago, I enjoyed a bonfire in the morning. But now there is no need of a bonfire. I miss that. But what I miss is the winter rain. I lovedit so much1” he said and fell silent.

‘Winter rain!’ ‘Mawattu!’ I thought.’ and asked ' How was the winter rain?’ The answer brought back old memories in both him and me: 'its sudden, its something you can’t expect and yet it is something you expect to happen. It is a little furious, but it is also gracious’.

By now I was hungry for more. So I pressed on, wanting himto tell me more of this mawattu. ‘In my garden, I have 4 mangoe trees. There is so much of red dust (there is indeed) here, that my trees are covered in layers of dust. Mawattu cleans the dust, gives a new clean look, opens their body pores, like you and I would open up after a nice warm bath. The trees are happy and ready to bear lots of fruits. But now, the rain has stopped coming and the garden looks dusty, old all year through. There are fewer mangos. But most of all, rain now only means a routine, there are no surprises.

Climate change, I thought, has been robbing our crops, our livelihood and our money. For months, I have been chronicling these affects.But its only today, in this dusty village, I realized that I too have been losing something - something deep and emotional. And its this loss that I and this eighty year old man of Chhattisgarh have in common.

Panos, London and I: a journey begins!

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 21:01:00 +0000

What is the most effective, yet the simplest way to bridge the gap between hyperlocal stories and the global audience? How can you make heard the voices off the ground in an authentic, unaltered manner? There are quite a few ideas floating around, but the 'Voice from the Ground' project of Panos, London which brings the stories straight off the ground, stands out among all.

Chhattisgarh: There are stories of inspiration waiting to be told in this land of despair and I am going to bring some of those stories on

This is how it works:
Panos selects a journalist who has been reporting development issues for a while. The journalist follows an activist/community worker for about a month and presents stories, as told to her/him by the activist/worker. The story appears as first person account and this way, the reader gets to hear and connect with the voice of the ground directly.

There is a reason why am I telling you this: I have just become a part of this project and I have introduced a powerful voice of a woman activist who works in the troubled land of India's Chhattisgarh state. Her name is Bhan Sahu. Here is my introductory article on her on the Panos website. It reads

"She has no educational degree, no regular monetary support and is very vulnerable herself, facing the danger of detainment and arrest every now and then. To write about her is to connect her with the larger, global community and open possibilities for her to get support from the world which has otherwise little access to these conflict-ridden areas."

This weekend (27th), I am going to Chhattisgarh where I will follow Bhan and a group of activists - mostly landless tribal women - and bring stories of their work, struggle and success exactly as they see it and they tell me. It is an opportunity for me to become the direct link between the hyperlocal and the global audience (which I mentioned above). As for Panos, it becomes the platform where the voices from the ground are amplified.

So, what are the stories that Bhan can tell? Imagine this: in a semi-arid region, in the shadow of famine, displacement, poverty and armed conflict (Govt vs Maoists), a woman with little education and next to nil resources is bringing social changes.Whatever her stories are, expect inspiring elements in them.

I travel this Sunday. My next blog will be uploaded from some dark,dusty cyber cafe in a dusty town which I have to discover. Until then, Happy holidays!

Kim Jong -il: a look at the "mourning"

noreply@blogger.com (Stella Paul) — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 17:06:00 +0000

"The people will miss him deeply', says a minister
"He was garbage, good thing he's dead...", says a citizen.
A look at how the world is mourning KimJong-il

One of the top news headlines this morning was the death of North Korean leader Kim Jong-il. After I finished reading, I thought, from famine to N-bomb, this guy led a country from pole to pole, all the while maintaining the enigmatic wrap around it. Now that he is gone, how is the world remembering him? I went looking up some of the countries and here is what I found.

Vietnam and Cuba
As communist countries, I expected Vietnam and Cuba to shed a lot of tears over the death of Kim Jong-il, and I wasn't disappointed. Vietnam sent a message of 'deep condolences' to North Korea, while Cuba went one step ahead, announcing a 3-day official mourning! Lucky Kim!

Burma

How does one pariah government look at another? To find an answer, I searched New Light of Myanmar - the propaganda outlet of the Junta. Surprise, surprise, there was nothing! Not even a line! Poor Kim!

South Korea

As its arch enemy, Seoul has always been generous with its opposition to everything Kim Jong-il said and did. And I had huge expectations now, to hear not just about Pyong Yang's dead leader, but also the newly installed one. Today, Korean Herald, a leading English daily published this report by US news agency Bloomberg that read:
"With the death of Kim Jong-il, the world is both a better and a more dangerous place... Better, because over his nearly two-decade rule of North Korea, Kim Jong-il killed or brutalized millions of his countrymen, illicitly spread nuclear technology and stoked regional tension and conflict. More dangerous, because Kim’s heir apparent, his son Kim Jong-un, is untested and unknown... in November 2010, two months after he was designated his father’s successor, North Korea launched an artillery barrage on a South Korean island, killing four people ― one of the most brazen attacks since the Korean War, and one that came on the heels of the March 2010 sinking of a South Korean patrol boat in which 46 sailors died."

Hmm... this definitely won't be seen very kindly by North Korea which has already asked its people to obey Kim's son by sending a message which read "All party members, military men and the public should faithfully follow the leadership of comrade Kim Jong-un."

Russia

Having come this far, I was now dying to find what Putin government had to say on good ol' Kim. Well, apparently, Russia isn't too sorry to see the death of an old man. Moscow Times quoted Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov saying, "it should not affect relations between the two countries."

Aside from this, Moscow Times threw a little more light on the communist leader's birth ("Kim was, in fact, born on Russian soil in 1941") and death saying "some news reports said he had suffered a heart attack... His penchant for cigars and fine cognac has done little to help his condition". Oh Kim!

USA

Well, by now you know how relieved the US feels to see Kim pass away, and, also how jittery it is to see a 28-year old guy leading a N-power North Korea. Reports Washington Post, "Obama made a midnight call to South Korean President Lee Myung-bak on Sunday to reaffirm the U.S. commitment to stability on the Korean Peninsula “and the security of our close ally” in Seoul."

China and "the people"

Finally, I looked for reactions on Kim Jng-il's death in the People's Republic of China. According to China Daily, China on Monday sent a message of condolences to North Korea that read ""We are shocked to learn that ...comrade Kim Jong-il passed away and we hereby express our deep condolences." Later, Chinese Foreign Minister Yang Jiechi also made a statement saying that the Chinese government and 'people' were deeply saddened by the demise of "close friend" Kim Jong-il.

However, when I looked underneath this news report, I found some comments by the very Chinese "people" who seemed to have an extremely different view. Here are some of them:

Anonymous wrote: 4 h ago
"We are happy that one more cruel ruler has died. there is no remorse for his death."

o Mama wrote: 3 m ago

"he was garbage, good thing he's dead...adios!"

Anonymous wrote: 5 m ago
"ding dong, the witch is dead, the mean old witch, the wicked witch..."
"he was trash and a psycho...the world is better off with him dead."