[Reader-list] RTF (Right to Food) Articles - 2

[Rakesh Iyer]

*Ending destitution *

By Jean Dreze

* Food transfers to the destitute are a good way of using the surplus grain
stocks. *

 SAMRI DEVI is a 70-year-old widow who lives in Kusumatand, an impoverished
hamlet in Palamau district, Jharkhand. Her son, Bhageshwar Bhuiya, suffers
from TB and is unable to work. Her daughter-in-law has taken leave of this
world. So the burden of looking after Bhageshwar and his seven children
rests on Samri Devi's frail shoulders. She feeds the family, somehow, by
gleaning leftover rice from a local rice mill, collecting wild foods and
begging from time to time. The children are severely undernourished and none
of them goes to school. Except for one cooking pot and a few rags, Samri
Devi's family owns absolutely nothing — not even a blanket or a pair of
chappals.

Samri Devi's is one among millions of households in rural India that might
be described as "destitute". These households typically have no able-bodied
adult member and no regular source of income. They survive by doing a
variety of informal activities such as gathering food from the village
commons, making baskets, selling minor forest produce and keeping the odd
goat.

We met Samri Devi during a recent survey of destitution in five States
(Andhra Pradesh, Chhattisgarh, Jharkhand, Rajasthan and Uttar Pradesh),
conducted by researchers from the Centre for Development Economics and the
Centre for Equity Studies. We were shocked to find that even in prosperous
villages some households lived in conditions of extreme poverty and hunger.
A casual visitor is unlikely to notice them, as destitute households keep a
low profile and are often socially invisible. But if you look for them, you
will find them, quietly struggling to earn their next meal or patiently
starving in a dark mud hut. From this, one point is clear: destitute
households cannot rely on spontaneous community support. Social security
arrangements are needed.

As things stand, however, destitute households are beyond the pale of most
development programmes and welfare schemes. They are unable to participate
in rural employment programmes, if available. Getting a bank loan is for
most of them beyond the realm of possibility. Even "self-help groups" tend
to shun them. Some destitute households are able to take advantage of
pension schemes such as those meant for widows and the aged, but the
coverage of these schemes is very limited and the formalities involved often
end up excluding the poorest of the poor.

In this sea of neglect, an island of hope has recently emerged — the
Antyodaya Anna Yojana. This programme, introduced in early 2001 (despite
predictable objections from the Finance Ministry), is addressed to the
poorest of the poor, as identified by gram panchayats and gram sabhas.
Antyodaya households have special ration cards and are entitled to 35 kg of
grain a month at highly subsidised prices (Rs. 2 a kg for wheat and Rs. 3 a
kg for rice).

The survey mentioned earlier indicates that the programme is doing well, in
sharp contrast with other components of the public distribution system
(PDS). First and foremost, the selection of Antyodaya households appears to
be quite fair: among the 450 Antyodaya households living in the sample
villages, a large majority turned out to be very poor. Nearly two thirds of
these households are constrained to skip meals from time to time. More than
half do not own a single blanket or quilt. Only two per cent of the sample
households lived in economic conditions described by the field investigators
as "better than average", compared with other households in the village. In
other words, the community-based selection procedure is working. Antyodaya
also seems to be reasonably successful in terms of the timely and effective
distribution of food rations. This is particularly so in Andhra Pradesh,
where most of the sample households had received their full quota every
month since the programme was initiated. Taking the five sample States
together, we estimated that the average Antyodaya household obtained close
to 75 per cent of its full entitlement since the programme began. Regarding
the quality of grain received, 85 per cent of the respondents described it
as "average" or "good". And while the prices charged to the Antyodaya
households were occasionally higher than the official issue prices, the
extent of overcharging is not very large — about 13 per cent on average.

This is not to say that the programme is flawless. In some areas
(particularly in Jharkhand), we found that many Antyodaya households had
been deprived of their entitlements, as ration-shop dealers took advantage
of their powerlessness. Yet, the experience so far strongly suggests that
these failures can be addressed and that the basic approach underlying the
Antyodaya programme is quite sound.

The main limitation of the Antyodaya Anna Yojana, seen as a social security
programme, is its restricted coverage (less than 5 per cent of the rural
population). But there is absolutely no difficulty in expanding and
consolidating it. Today, it absorbs less than three million tonnes of food
per year — a trivial proportion of the country's aggregate food stocks of 65
million tonnes. An expanded programme of Antyodaya-style social security for
the destitute, covering (say) 10 per cent of the rural population with
enhanced entitlements of 10 kg of grain per person a month, would require
about eight million tonnes of grain per year. This is a small price to pay
for protecting the rural population from extreme poverty.

It is useful to see the case for a major expansion of the Antyodaya
programme in the context of the "problem" of ballooning food stocks in the
country. The needs and rights of destitute households should of course be
the primary consideration, but as it happens, there are also independent
reasons why food transfers to the destitute are a good way of using the
surplus grain stocks. First, the overhead costs of these food transfers are
low. This is a crucial consideration, because overhead costs have been the
main stumbling block in the way of other constructive uses of food stocks,
such as mid-day meals and food-for-work programmes. Second, food transfers
to the destitute also have the advantage of boosting the aggregate
consumption of foodgrains. Indeed, since there is widespread hunger among
destitute households, most of the food given to them translates into
additional consumption. In contrast, food transfers made under programmes
such as school meals or food-for-work create little additional demand for
foodgrains, as they substitute to a large extent for food that would
otherwise be bought in the market. This, too, is a crucial point, because in
the absence of additional demand the only long-term solution to the problem
of ballooning food stocks (short of exporting them) is to reduce procurement
prices, something that is unlikely to happen in the near future.

In short, there is an overwhelming case for introducing a large programme of
food-based social security for the destitute. The Antyodaya experience shows
that this approach is feasible. A permanent programme along the same lines
is likely to work even better, as eligible households learn to claim their
entitlements. It would go a long way towards ending the extreme insecurity
and deprivation that ruin the lives of destitute households in rural India.
In addition, this is an economically attractive way of reducing the
country's bloated food stocks. There is little reason for hesitation.