Stories written by Manipadma Jena
Manipadma Jena is an international environmental journalist reporting from New Delhi and Bhubaneswar in India. She specializes in climate change, gender, water, renewable energy, migration & biodiversity, is passionately interested in rights of indigenous communities and photography
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Basudev Dalai, 43, never thought that the fishing village where he has lived all his life and which has been home to generations of fishermen like him would be embroiled in violent clashes over the very source of their livelihood.
When a super cyclone devastated the coastal districts of Orissa state in 1999, the government pledged to regenerate 3,000 hectares of mangrove. Or so forest official Chandra Sekhar Kar thought.
When Sunita Sanyal (last name changed) complained of intense headache and vomiting, her mother presumed it was just pre-examination jitters. After all, Sunita’s business management finals were just a week away.
It was her fourth unplanned pregnancy, but Sani Jani still made it a point to have a monthly checkup at the nearest primary health centre – even if she always had to walk two kilometres to get there.
A four-year-old landmark law that was supposed to bring profound changes in the lives of India’s tribal and forest-dwelling peoples has failed to deliver on that promise.
When 5,000 indigenous Dongria Kondhs trekked Sunday to Niyam Dongar hill, the abode of their presiding deity Niyam Raja, and designated it as inviolate, it meant they were stepping up their resistance to a controversial alumina refinery and bauxite mine project here.
"May I come in, Miss?" asks seven-year-old Ajmiri Khatun, her face beaming with her radiant smile. Her teacher, Pujo Roy, gladly welcomes her into the eight-square-foot educational facility designed for Indian children like her.
At dawn, 65-year-old Indian share farmer Gundicha Rout goes to the stone water trough in his backyard to wash his face and prepare for paddy husking. He reaches out for the water, dipping into a thin film of oil on its surface. As he swishes the water in his mouth, there is a bitter metallic taste.
It is just the beginning of the year, but M. Manju Laxmi already feels anxious. In four months or so, she will be back to her old routine: stuffing the wide chinks under her weathered closed doors and windows with her old saris.
Under a shed made of bamboo and corrugated sheet metal, Purusottam Sur feeds his two bullocks and a cow with a bundle each of dry paddy plant. A fifth of his five-acre paddy harvest will be used only as cattle feed; the rice seeds just did not develop because of untimely rains this monsoon.