Youngsters have relocated to greener pastures leaving behind the elderly — who have pinned their hopes on a government promise.
Ghosted village of Chengadi which once bustled wtih 200 families is now left with hardly 20-30 people and all of them senior citizens. (Chetana Belagere)
The jungle hides several secrets — but it has one law: Only the fittest survive.
Chengadi, a village hidden inside the Male Mahadeswara Hills Wildlife Sanctuary in Karnataka’s Chamarajanagar district is now fighting to survive.
The village is not one of the fittest. Once bustling with life, it doesn’t have youngsters. They have left the forest hamlet in search of greener pastures. Only the elderly remain in the now almost ghost village, caught in a time warp, a sharp contrast to the outside world.
Unlike in villages outside the forest, time beats to a slower rhythm in Chengadi. Once a week, it comes alive as the villagers’ only mode of transport, a Mahindra pickup truck, goes on a rickety drive on the rugged mud road to Kuratti Hosur, a village some 18 km away — and back.
It was 10 am on Monday. The white vehicle revved up at Kuratti Hosur, as its passengers clambered onto its cargo hold, A lucky few had already found space in the cabin. The vehicle soon set off for Chengadi, like a grotesque picture of the rigid dichotomy between two worlds — of the more fortunate, and the less fortunate.
Villagers of Changadi enroute to their village in the vehicle that comes only on Mondays to help them reach the town to get their essentials and healthcare needs. (Supplied)
Those in Chengadi take this vehicle to Kuratti Hosur to purchase essentials or to meet their health needs on Mondays. The rest of the days, the forest village remains cut off from the outside world, unless one dares to tread the jungle.
However, not many dare to trek the forest path, especially if alone. Once a village where the old and young lived, it has now become a hamlet of senior citizens, most aged above 65. The young have left the village seeking greener pastures and even alliances. For those remaining, life is a constant struggle against adversities and wild animals.
More than 300 families used to live in the village spread. Now it has a fast-aging population of 25-30 residents, who are waiting for the Karnataka government to allot them the promised land so they can relocate.
In the past three years, four district commissioners have assured Chengadi’s residents that they would be provided alternative land, housing, and financial support.
South First recently visited Chengadi and found most houses, including some newly-constructed ones, uninhabited. The residents have left since they had no other option, and those who stayed back wait anxiously to hear from the government, struggling against wild animals and without basic amenities, including healthcare.
For them, today is a struggle, and tomorrow, uncertain.
Revenue settlements within the sanctuary. (Supplied)
Narrating to South First the story of the village, Chengadi Kariyappa, President of the Karnataka State Farmer’s Association of Hanur Taluk, said the village is a revenue enclosure within the Malai Mahadeshwara Wildlife Sanctuary which has been mentioned in the Fort Saint George gazette notification.
“Our village dates back to 1909. Chengadi, as per the 2011 census, had about 333 families with a population of 1,562,” Kariyappa, said.
The village is located inside the deep forest and is deprived of basic amenities. It has only a mud road and travelling to the village, especially during the rainy season, is extremely difficult. There was one school which had classes up to Class 5.
“But now, it is not functioning since no children live here. Children have to go out of the forest to study further,” he said.
The nearest high school is about 22 km away in Cowdalli village. “For health emergencies, too, we have to rush to Cowdalli,” Kariyappa said.
Only water source of Chengadi. (Chetana Belagere/South First)
The village’s agriculture is dependent on rainfall. Farmers grow maize, pulses, finger millet, etc, and a small pond provides drinking water.
“If it dries in the summer, we have no alternative source,” he added.
Man-animal conflict is frequent as the village is located in an elephant corridor, forcing the villagers to decide to move out at the first opportunity.
“My father, grandfather, great-grandfather, all lived in this village. Ours was a close-knit family. Despite having no facilities, we have even voted ever since voting rights were given. We carry pregnant women on makeshift structures made of bedsheets and send our children to faraway schools and colleges,” he explained.
It was not as simple as Kariyappa narrated. Miscarriages are common as pregnant women often do not get timely medical attention. So are deaths.
A spurt in the elephant population, too, has affected the population, totally dependent on agriculture. Sending children, especially girls, out to school or college, too, is a problem. They have to traverse the forest to school and back.
Septuagenarian Basamma presented another issue. “I am a single parent. I have three children — two sons and a daughter. Finding brides for my sons was a huge problem. People from other villages refused to marry off their daughters to men in this village,” the 73-year-old resident said.
“We had no option but to send our sons out of the village so that they could eke out a living and build a family. I am living here as I am worried my land will be snatched away. I am left with the hope that the government will give me a house and a compensation package. My sons asked me to shift to Hanur village. I can’t leave this home,” the visibly worried woman told South First.
Kariyappa walking in the deserted village of Chengadi, reminiscing about old days which once was filled with the presence of friends and extended families. (Chetana Belagere/South First)
Kariyappa agreed that several problems have been dogging the village. When the population grew earlier, demands, too, increased. People wanted healthcare and education facilities, and more money.
With priorities changing and needs increasing, the youngsters started to relocate to cities like Chamarajanagar, Mysuru, or Bengaluru. While some took their parents with them, a few left the elderly behind. Others did not leave with their children, hoping for the state’s help, he said.
“Politicians come here only when the election nears. We get power for only three to four hours a day. Power outages stretching for 10-15 days is common during the rainy season. The elephant population is huge. Education is a problem. Girls are not given to boys in marriage here due to the remoteness of the village with no healthcare facility. Outsiders also fear that they could not often visit their daughters due to scant transportation facilities,” Kariyappa said.
In 2020, Deputy Conservator of Forests (DCF) Malathi Priya tried to relocate and rehabilitate the villagers. She showed them the photographs of former forest dwellers of Nagarhole, who were rehabilitated.
Locked, broken, dilapidated, ghosted houses of Chengadi village. (Chetana Belagere/South First)
“After seeing the pictures, all happily agreed to the rehabilitation proposal. The state government then formed a committee chaired by the district commissioner, and even identified land near the Hanur highway,” Kariyappa said.
After Priya was transferred, Vedukondalu V, who replaced her, took the work forward. He completed almost 90 percent of the work and even took the consent of around 250 families. He showed the villagers 450 acres of degraded forest land, saying it would be transformed into a village for these families.
The land is located by the Hanur highway, four km away from Hanur. Currently, the families are scattered across 450 acres within the forest.
Kariyappa said ₹36 crore from the Compensatory Afforestation Fund Management and Planning Authority (CAMPA) was also allotted in 2021 for relocating the families. However, it did not progress since the file concerned was put in cold storage.
According to the guidelines set by the National Tiger Conservation Authority and the Ministry of Environment and Forests, the affected families were offered compensation with limited options.
Anganwadi Centre which lies locked as there are no children to attend school. (Chetana Belagere/South First)
“We were given three options. Those above 18 years old but unmarried will be provided ₹15 lakh. Ninety families took up this option. The second option was that we would be provided three acres of agricultural land each, a single-bedroom house, and the remaining money (from the ₹15 lakh) would be deposited into our account. As many as 116 families agreed to this option. The third was for those who wanted only a house and cash, but no land. Twenty-four beneficiaries agreed to this option,” Kariyappa explained.
If 230 families had agreed to shift in 2020, more are now willing to leave due to the extreme difficulty in staying in the village. “At least 30 more families are willing to leave,” he added.
Those who expressed willingness to shift were promised that the new village would have essential amenities, including roads, places of worship, educational facilities, and common utility services.
Elephant droppings were seen at several places when South First travelled the forest road to the village with Kariyappa. “We might come across them (elephants) even now,” he said when asked about the possibility of encountering the wild beasts.
“My only prayer is that it shouldn’t be a bull elephant. A villager was attacked by a tusker recently,” he explained the risk the villagers take every day.
Board that reads corrupt officials, politicians not allowed. (Chetana Belagere/South First)
The village is perched on a hill surrounded by verdant forest. A board erected outside the village reflected the simmering anger and frustrations of the villagers. “Corrupt government officials and politicians are not allowed,” it read.
A sense of desolation has blanketed the almost ghost village. Most houses were locked. The aging inhabitants looked dejected but still harboured the hope that someone would take them away to a better place someday.
The village has lost the vibrance of youth and the merriness of children playing in gay abandon. Instead, a melancholic stillness has blanketed the village. In the absence of regular power supply, the nights accentuate the solitude that permeates the village.
Festivals and functions have become mere memories as the elderly residents, almost mechanically, go about their daily chores, herding cattle and tending to plants.
Mahadevamma and Basamma. (Chetana Belagere/South First))
“It feels like ages since we celebrated a festival. When we have village festivals, our children come here with much difficulty in the morning and leave the same day before 3 pm. Some of them don’t bring our grandchildren, fearing animals and the living conditions. They have become city dwellers. We now wish to join them. I hope the government does something for us,” Mahadevamma, whose four children are now in Bengaluru.
With the spectre of elephant attacks and the ever-present fear of health emergencies haunting the village, anxiety has become a constant for the residents. The rustling of leaves or the sound of a twig breaking at night amplifies their fear.
“What if we leave and the government doesn’t give us land? At least our children’s future should be secured. That’s the reason why we are staying put here until we are rehabilitated,” 63-year-old Muniyamma said.
Recently, the new District Commissioner (DC), Shilpa Nag, who took charge in July, visited the village. Incidentally, she is the fourth DC to visit the village of the elderly.
“Many of us, including some of our children, met the DC when she visited us. We showed her around the village. Explained our situation and also informed us about the DC committee. We told her the need for moving the file and releasing the funds to implement the project,” Kariyappa said.
District Commissioner Shilpa Nag interacting with the villagers (Supplied)
Speaking to South First, Nag said she is committed to ensuring that the villagers are relocated as per the earlier plan.
“I recently visited Chengadi and several other tribal podus (settlements) to assess the rehabilitation arrangements. At Chengadi, I found most of the younger generation has already relocated, leaving behind elderly individuals alone in many houses. It was disheartening to see the village, situated in such a remote area, predominantly occupied by elders,” she said.
“We have completed all the groundwork, finalised the necessary documentation, gathered feedback from residents, conducted meetings with village leaders, and assessed their willingness to relocate. I even held meetings with the village and farmers’ leaders. We have submitted to the government a revised Detailed Project Report (DPR) for their rehabilitation,” she stated.
Muniyamma, a resident of Chengadi village (Chetana Belagere/South First)
Nag said that her office is committed to expediting the approval and sanction process to relocate the residents to the land identified near the Hanur highway.
Muniyamma, another resident, had remained silent all the while. While South First was about to leave, she broke her silence. “We hope the newly-elected Siddaramaiah government will see our plight. We don’t have much time left to live. We want to live peacefully with our children and grandchildren,” she said.
Her eyes looked empty. Like many others, her home, too, looked like a mere shell, battered by time and elements. The elderly woman knows well that she doesn’t have a future in the desolate loneliness of the jungle village. She also knows that she is not in the pink of health. And the jungle has one law: Only the fittest survives.
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