Every time a cyclone warning comes, fear and anxiety begin to take root inside him, rising and falling just like waves hitting the shore, not more than a kilometer away from his own home.

Housewife Chellaboyina Venkata Lakshmi is not new here. It has been 30 years since he came to Chinna Golapalem, a remote village in Krithivenu mandal of Krishna district of Andhra Pradesh.

An abiding fear of uncertainty overwhelms her heart as she wonders if the sea is moving toward land. Although she says that the sea has never harmed the people here, she still cannot rule out the possibility of it happening in the future.

“The sea is Gangamma (Goddess Ganga) for us. We are not afraid of the sea. But water is extremely powerful. If it’s her (Gangamma), our entire village will be submerged in water within no time,” says Venkata Lakshmi. Her husband is a daily wage laborer, and her two sons are employed; One is in Hyderabad and the other lives with them.

Other women and some men in the village support his contradictory statements about the sea being harmless and the possibility of it destroying their homes. There is a reason for that.

Village sarpanch Penumala Sunil says coconut, cashew and casuarina trees have been slowly destroyed by the sea over a long time, most of them in the last 16 years.

Experts say two factors contribute to erosion here: wave activity and land subsidence.

The sarpanch says that out of the 8,000 acres of agricultural land in the village, where coconut, casuarina and cashew trees are grown, trees on 1,200 acres of land belonging to about 600 farmers have been destroyed.

“Most of them are small farmers, having one or two acres of land. Some of them have more than 100 acres of land,” he adds. Only 20% of the village’s population, which is 8,138 as per the 2011 census, own land here, he says, while the rest are fishermen.

livelihood challenges

The two main occupations of the village people are fishing and agriculture. The villagers say that on the one hand, the sea is destroying their crops, and on the other hand, the amount of fishing in Upputeru Creek has reduced significantly, they are worried that their two primary sources of livelihood are gradually diminishing. Due to which many people are being forced to migrate to cities and towns. In search of work.

China Golapalem is an island village surrounded by the Bay of Bengal on one side and Upputeru Creek on the other. Upputeru is the only outlet of Kolleru Lake into the Bay of Bengal, which travels 60 km before joining the sea near Chinna Golapalem.

Geography changed

The village is connected to the mainland by a bridge over the bay. “The village was not always an island,” says Borra Veeraswamy, 57, a government teacher here. Recalling the 1970s when he was a child, he says: “There used to be a ‘dandu dari’ here. , which was a route built for the movement of soldiers from Machilipatnam to the village during the British rule. Now the path is nowhere visible.” He says, the geography of the village changed after the construction of a new branch of the Upputeru channel.

The explanation for this can be found in a research paper titled ‘The Circulation and Flow Regime of Upputeru, Outlet Channels of Kolleru Lake, India’ published in 2019 by Professor PSN Acharyulu of the Department of Meteorology and Oceanography, Andhra Pradesh and four others . The university says that in 1973, a new channel was dug to address the flooding problem of the original Upputeru channel, which the newspaper says was narrow and shallow.

“The last time desilting work was done was in 1996. If the government starts desilting work again, there will be no erosion.”penumala sunilSarpanch, Chinna Golapalem

Many paddy fields depended on the road to Upputeru. However, because it was narrow, the channel would flood during the monsoon season as huge amounts of water flowed into Kolleru Lake, submerging the fields. This required the creation of a new channel or mouth. The original route covered a distance of 12 km around the village to reach the sea, while the new route, which was built in Losari, a village in Bhimavaram mandal of the same district, was a direct line to the sea. It is 4.4 km long.

“After the construction of the new branch, the village became cut off from the mainland. It became a man-made island,” says the teacher. Although the village was not at risk from sea erosion due to being an island, the change in geography increased the problem.

According to the research paper, one cause of erosion is the effect of wave currents and convergence and divergence activity of waves during the south-west and north-east monsoons. It states that wave convergence (concentration of energy) occurs between the mouths of two channels located 7 km apart. “The convergence of waves in the area between the two mouths of the river is significant. “Since wave convergence causes higher wave energy, the area between river mouths shows erosion,” the paper says.

In between the two estuaries, along a 7 km long coastline, lies the village of Chinna Golapalem. Today, when one strolls along the main road of the village surrounded by dense and tall coconut trees, one cannot distinguish Upputeru from the sea. There is water on all three sides, there is a danger of it entering the ground. Already, many uprooted coconut trees can be seen floating in the sea.

Workers sorting and peeling coconuts in an orchard in Chinna Golapalem. Hulled coconuts are sold in the markets of Machilipatnam and Vijayawada in Andhra Pradesh. , Photo Courtesy: KVS Giri

Veeraswamy used to have 5 acres of leased land inherited from his ancestors, about 500 meters from the sea. Of these, three acres of coconut trees have been destroyed in the last three years. There are about 70 trees in one acre, and the investment per acre is about ₹50,000. It takes 5 years to get the yield.

“If the trees were alive, I would have got ₹10,000 from an acre whenever we went for harvesting, which is once in two months. The loss is huge,” he says.

Veeraswamy says that before reaching Veeraswamy’s land, the sea had first encroached upon another farmer’s land, which was located 250 meters from the sea. “Now we are worried about the remaining two acres. The trees fall here twice a month, on full moon and new moon days, when the tide is high. The number of trees falling during cyclones is also increasing,” says Veeraswamy.

“We have been thinking of relocating for almost 30 years. We stayed here because we have our own house here,” says Venkata Lakshmi. “However, we asked our pregnant daughter-in-law not to stay here with us as the road connecting the village to the bridge is rough.” Villagers says that apart from obvious erosion, bad roads, street lights and lack of water supply are causing many people to refuse to marry their daughters to men here.

62 year old fisherman N. Veeraraju has lost 100 acres of land here, where he used to grow both coconut and casuarina trees. Despite heavy losses, people refuse to leave the village. “We have never depended only on agriculture. We are all also involved in fishing and selling tree products,” he says. However, falling catches have recently compounded their problems, he says.

“Here we are all fishermen. Why would we be afraid of water? We are only worried about the falling trees”N. veerarajuFisherman of Chinna Golapalem

When asked if he was not afraid of further intrusions into the sea, he replied, “We are all fishermen here. Why would we be afraid of water? We are only worried about the falling trees.” Furthermore, unlike Venkata Lakshmi, most villagers do not think the sea will advance into their village.

The sea was never a problem for them.

Villagers including the Sarpanch say that the cause of erosion is not the sea but the two Upputeru channels.

“Both the channels receive silt from many places as many water factories are located nearby. The garbage gets accumulated at the mouth of two channels, due to which the water flows onto our land. The last desilting work was done in 1996. If the government does the desilting work again, there will be no erosion,” he said, adding that he has also written a letter to Machilipatnam Member of Parliament (MP) Vallabhaneni Balashowri to resolve the issue. ,

other factors

However, experts have something else to say. EAS Sarma, former Secretary to the Government of India, says that the construction of the new Upputeru Channel remains the main cause of land erosion in the village, but possible land subsidence due to natural gas extraction in the area cannot be ruled out. Sea level rise could be a third factor, he said.

VVSS Sarma, chief scientist, regional centre, Visakhapatnam, National Institute of Oceanography, says the topography of the land is the most important factor. “It is true that land subsidence makes the situation worse by changing the topography. We have records from 1850 that sea levels are rising but at a very low rate. Currently, sea levels are rising by about 4 mm per year,” he says.

According to Veerraju, when he was young, earlier there was a difference of 1-2 meters in the height of land and sea. Now this difference has gradually reduced. According to a geologist working on the Upputeru system on condition of anonymity, Chinna Golapalem is located on a sand dune.

“If we go by what the villagers are saying, there are indications that the land is slowly sinking. Recently, we have seen sea water ingress into Kolleru Lake. Ideally, it is the Kolleru that should be discharged into the sea. If the reverse is happening, land subsidence could be one reason,” says the geologist.

While villagers say the MP has promised to look into the issue, Mr Sarma says measures should have been taken when coastal erosion was first reported. He says one solution, if possible, is to grow mangroves.

Krishna district Collector DK Balaji and MP Mr Balashowari were not available for comment.

Although the sea is not stopping swallowing land, farmers and fishermen are unaware of the bigger issues pointed out by experts. They are holding on to the hope that the process of desilting Upputeru will put an end to their problems.

On the outskirts of Khatoli Ahir village in Haryana’s Mahendragarh, an old banyan tree, spread with age, is covered with a thick layer of fine grey dust. Not far from the State boundary of Rajasthan, the tree that appears snow-clad, bears silent testimony to the ordeal of thousands of families across a dozen villages in the region. Here, people are constantly exposed to the harmful dust and noise emanating from the scores of stone crushers running with never a pause.

Seated on a cemented platform below the tree, 60-year-old Gyarsi Lal, diagnosed with tuberculosis a year ago, is resigned to his fate. “Court mein case jeet liya. Mamla Supreme Court tak chala gaya. Phir bhi band nahi hue. Hamari kya aukat hai. Hum to mazdoor hain; hamari koi nahi manega (We won the case in court. The matter went to the Supreme Court, yet these units did not shut down. What is our status? We are labourers; no one will listen to us),” says Lal.

His family is among the 80-odd Scheduled Caste families in Khatoli Ahir, who were allotted free plots by the Haryana government on panchayat land on the outskirts of the village in 2012. This was under the Indira Gandhi Awas Yojana, a social welfare programme to give marginalised communities free land.

Of these, only about 20 families shifted into houses they constructed on these plots. They are the worst hit with a crusher unit across the road from where they stay. “This crusher was set up in 2019. It has been five years. It stops only when there is a power cut. We keep the doors and windows shut, but the dust enters through the cracks. Everything inside, even the utensils in the kitchen, remain covered with layers of dust. We don’t just breathe this dust in, but also end up eating it,” says Suresh Kumar, sitting next to Lal. He claims that tuberculosis has claimed two lives. “Sab dus saal pehle mar jayenge (Everyone will die 10 years earlier),” he adds.

A stone crushing unit in Mahendragarh.
| Photo Credit:
SUSHIL KUMAR VERMA

After villagers went to court in 2018 against the crushers, Mahendragarh district officials submitted a joint committee report before the National Green Tribunal (NGT) in 2019, saying there were 158 crushers in the district. “Following this, the NGT ordered closure of 72 units. But another report two years later said there were 162 crushers with 107 in Nangal Choudhary sub-division,” says Tejpal Yadav, 32, who belongs to Khatoli Jaat village, but works as a teacher of mathematics at an IIT coaching institute near Jaipur in Rajasthan.

He has been fighting against the crushers both inside and outside court for almost a decade. He says that there were only three or four villages with crusher zones in Nangal Choudhary in 2015, but by 2021 they were spread across 10 villages.

The Regional Officer of the Haryana State Pollution Control Board, Mahendragarh, Krishan Kumar, claims there are currently only 81 stone crushers in the district. “Many crushers have shut down in compliance with the Supreme Court and NGT orders,” he says, adding the department also shut some down for violations. He says there are regular inspections and units are fined if they are found not complying.

Health hazard

Vijender, 55, another resident at the settlement, got a skin allergy three years ago, like many fellow villagers. “I sneeze all day. My eyes are always watery and my nose is constantly running. This crusher was running last night as well despite the Supreme Court ban due to high pollution levels in NCR,” he says. Up to 55% of Haryana falls under the National Capital Region that experienced high pollution levels in November, with GRAP IV restrictions kicking in, putting a pause on running diesel-fuelled vehicles and construction-related activity.

People across ages at the settlement show symptoms of dust-related ailments, including laboured breathing, itchy eyes, and skin allergies. Sifting through a heap of prescriptions from different hospitals, Bharat Singh, 34, says his five-year-old daughter has developed a kidney-related ailment, which doctors say could be caused by constant exposure to the harmful dust.

Crushing of stones happens very close to agricultural field in Mahendragarh, which impacts crop production.
| Photo Credit:
SUSHIL KUMAR VERMA

A daily wager, he has worn his financial resources thin to ensure the best possible treatment for her, and has been consulting paediatricians in Jaipur. “Antim also experiences difficulty in breathing after meals. She develops red spots on her skin sometimes. A couple of children from 8 to 10 years in the neighbourhood too have eye-related issues. We don’t have the income and the resources to shift elsewhere,” says the father.

Manisha, 27, says her two children too have developed skin allergies. “The doctor advises us to keep them away from the dust. But we have nowhere to go,” says the mother.

Babli, 42, a mother of three, says she is tired of dusting and cleaning. “At least two people must clean all day long. First with a dry cloth, then with wet cloth,” she says, with the women around her nodding.

Talking with her face covered with a veil, Nirmala, 37, says rising health bills have messed up their budgets and they are forced to cut all other expenses to pay for medicines and doctors’ fees. “A few big landlords have made fortunes by renting out their land to these stone-crusher units. They live in palatial homes while we suffer,” she says. Nirmala recalls the summer of 2023, when the women blocked the road seeking closure of the crusher unit next to their settlement, but the police threatened them and forced them to lift the dharna.

“Sagai wale aate hai aur chai peekar wapas chale jate hain. Kehte hai yahan to unki ladki mariz ho jayegi (People come with marriage proposals, but return after drinking tea. They say that their daughter will become a patient here),” quips Sunita, 45, as the women around her burst into laughter.

Stone dust everywhere

The road to Dholera, a village next to Khatoli Ahir, is dotted with trees on both sides, all covered in thick layers of grey stone dust. Just a kilometre away from a stone-crushing zone with about 50 units, the round-the-clock movement of dumper trucks carrying construction material from the crushing units and mines has damaged road, making it difficult for small passenger vehicles to ply.

Here too people say they wake up to thick layers of dust inside their houses and on the terraces, with the village surrounded by the crushers. There is a permanent haze in the air throughout the year. Many families — at least those who could get jobs — have left the village over the years, to settle in less polluted places.

The village roads damaged by dumper trucks carrying construction material from the crushing units and mines.
| Photo Credit:
SUSHIL KUMAR VERMA

Many like Rajender, 52, a farmer, sitting among a group of villagers outside a barber’s shop, have no choice. “This is not possible without the patronage of the local authorities and politicians. The dumpers are overloaded and uncovered, and water sprinklers are not used at crushing sites,” he says.

The Narnaul Civil Surgeon’s report to the Haryana State Pollution Control Board in 2021, conceded that the number of air-borne diseases almost doubled in this region within a span of nine years. While 2011 saw 21,329 cases, there were 42,309 cases in 2019, a couple of years after stone crusher units started mushrooming in Mahendragarh district, especially the Nangal Choudhary sub-division.

The report was prepared in compliance with a 2020 NGT order, after the court heard a host of petitions against stone crushers, including that of Tejpal vs State of Haryana and Others. Tejpal disputes the district health official’s numbers, saying that the actual number could be far higher. He says that breathing-related ailments are a common cause of death among the elderly in this part of the district. “At condolence meets, I often get to hear that the deceased, mostly the elderly, had a breathing issue. If a proper medical check-up is done, I am sure more half of the population in the region will be diagnosed with tuberculosis,” says Tejpal.

A fight for survival

Besides health and the environment, stone cutting impacts agriculture and the Aravali mountain range. People living in Nangal Choudhary, across villages, claim that the thick layers of dust settle on crops, more so in winter. It has impacted agricultural output despite the land being fertile and well-irrigated.

Ravinder Singh, president of the Mahendergarh Crushers and Labour Association, an unregistered body representing a dozen units, denies charges of pollution and violation of environmental rules.

“Most units are run by locals and adhere to norms like sprinkling water. It is the only industry in this region and also a source of employment for people.” He blames dumper trucks from crushing sites in Rajasthan that pass through this region, claiming they are overloaded. “Our share of dumpers on this route is only one-fourth, but we are blamed,” he says.

Tejpal’s older brother Ajay Yadav, a former journalist, chuckles. “Our fight against the powerful stone crushing and mining mafia can be made into a documentary. It is a mass movement.” He talks about how the duo went from village to village to hold meetings and distribute pamphlets to create awareness.

“After every NGT order, we had to hold demonstrations to get it implemented. We were first lured with money, but when we did not budge, we got death threats,” he says. He laments that this region has no history of mass movements, except Rao Tula Ram from Rewari, whose rebellion against the British was a part of the 1857 revolt. “We did not get the kind of support from people as we thought we would,” says Ajay.

The duo got sucked into a long battle against the stone crushers in 2016 when Tejpal, teaching at a coaching institute in Rajasthan’s Sikar, noticed the gradual mushrooming of these units and growing pollution levels in the region. “When I would come home on my motorcycle over the weekend, I began to notice the dust. I worried about the people living here. It motivated me to fight,” he says.

Leaves covered with the dust from stone crushing units.
| Photo Credit:
SUSHIL KUMAR VERMA

“To begin with I mobilised people here against it. We held demonstrations, wrote to the authorities and political representatives. When all our pleas fell on deaf ears, I decided to move the NGT in 2018,” he remembers. His strategy was to first get a closure order in his village and then, based on those orders, seek directions against illegally run stone crushers across the district.

In a first major victory for the duo, the NGT, in its order on July 27, 2019, based on the report of the local authorities that 72 stone crushers were not complying with the siting norms, directed the “immediate closure of all illegally operating polluting stone crushers in the area and initiation of action by way of prosecution and recovery of compensation”.

In December 2020 and January 2023, the NGT observed the citizens’ right to breathe fresh air. It fixed ₹20 lakh compensation against each stone crusher operating in the area on the “polluter pays” principle. “But the orders are yet to be implemented fully even as stone crushers continue to play havoc with the lives of inhabitants, their livelihood, and the environment,” says Tejpal.

While the battle continues, Tejpal says his weekends and holidays are devoted to preparing for the legal battle ahead and holding nukkad sabhas (neighbourhood meetings) to create awareness. “A substantial chunk of my earnings also goes towards this fight, including the fee for the lawyers,” he says.

“I also contested the Assembly election from the Swaraj India party in 2019 at the insistence of political activist Yogendra Yadav, who contacted me after the NGT order in 2019 was widely reported,” he says. While he lost the election, he took the opportunity to visit 140 villages, whereas earlier he had gone to about 35, to spread awareness among people in the area.