[Reader-list] Reg: Set - 11

[Rakesh Iyer]

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Article Theme: Distress in Agriculture

Link: http://www.indiatogether.org/2007/may/psa-convict.htm

Article Content: (Source: India Together)

AGRICULTURAL CRISIS
* Farmer's diet worse than a convict's *
 Several women in Karnataka's Mandya district like Jayalakshmamma, whose
husband committed suicide four years ago, still stand up to the unending
pressure with incredible resilience, writes P Sainath.

When Jayalakshmamma finishes her 12 hours of labour - on those days she can
find work - she's entitled to less than a fourth of the rice given to a
convict in prison. In fact, the rice she gets on average for a whole day is
far less than what the incarcerated offender gets in a single meal.

Jayalakshmamma is not a convict in prison. She's a marginal farmer whose
husband H.M. Krishna, 45, killed himself in Huluganahalli village of Mandya
district four years ago. This district was among the worst affected by the
farm suicides of 2003 in Karnataka. In this State, her BPL (below the
poverty line) card entitles her to only four kg of rice (and a kg of wheat)
a month. True, those four kg are subsidised by the State. But she cannot
afford to buy a lot more than that at prevailing market price. She is also
one of over a lakh of women across India who have lost their husbands in
suicides arising from the farm crisis these past 14 years.

"Four kilograms a month means about 135 grams a day," says T. Yashavantha,
who is from a farming family of the same district. He is also State
vice-president of the Students Federation of India. "Even an undertrial or
convict gets more." What's more, they get cooked rice. She gets four kg of
grain. Jail diets in the State vary according to whether the prisoner is on
a "rice diet," a "ragi diet" or a "chapati diet." Jail officials in
Bangalore told The Hindu "those on rice diets and doing rigorous
imprisonment get 710 grams of cooked rice per meal. Those on non-rice diets
get 290 grams of rice. Undertrials and those doing simple imprisonment [who
are on rice diets] get 505 grams of rice per meal."

The convict doing rigorous imprisonment does eight hours of labour.
Jayalakshmamma does 12 or more. "But her entitlement is 45 grams per meal if
she has three a day," points out Mr. Yashavantha. She doesn't have the time,
though, to make comparisons. Her daughter now works at breadline wages in a
Bangalore garment company. "At most she can send us Rs.500 in a year," she
told us at her village. This leaves her son and herself at home. Their joint
entitlement on the BPL card would yield 270 grams per day. That is: they
would together still get less rice than even a prisoner on "ragi diet" gets
- 290 grams or more.

They own around 0.4 acres and had leased two acres before Krishna's suicide.
"On the former we grew vegetables. On the latter, we had sericulture.
Vegetable prices have been terrible. Once, we got Rs.1 a kilo for tomatoes.
And water costs came to Rs.9,000 (or Rs.70 per hour) over six months." Now
they have only the 0.4 acres. "We also sold all our livestock after his
death." They have been paying off his loans and most of the compensation
they received appears to have gone this way. "My boy Nandipa grazes the
goats of others but there's no daily income from it." Instead, they will
share the offspring of the animals - if any - with the owner. "I myself make
Rs.35 a day working this off-season."

"I wanted Nandipa to study. But he was in despair. Three years ago, then
aged 12, he ran off to Bangalore and worked in a hotel. There he was beaten
by the owner. He ran away, took the wrong train and landed up in Mumbai.
After a while, he was brought back."

"All widows have problems. But those bereaved by the farm crisis suffer
worse," says Sunanda Jayaram, president of the women's wing of the Karnataka
Rajya Ryuthu Sangha (Puttanaiah group) "Even after losing her husband she
has to maintain his father and mother, her own children and the farm - with
no economic security for herself. And she is saddled with his debts. Her
husband took his own life. She will pay the price all her life."

In Bidarahosahalli village, Chikktayamma's state exemplifies this. Her
husband, Hanumegowda, 38, killed himself in 2003. "The debts are all we're
left with," she says, without self-pity. "What we earn won't pay off even
the interest on loans to the money lenders." She's struggled to educate her
three children - who might be forced to drop out though all want to study
further. "The girls should study, too. But later, we'll have to raise lots
of money for their marriages as well."

One girl, Sruthi, has done her SSLC exams and another, Bharathi, is in the
second year of her pre-university course. Her son Hanumesh is in the 8th
standard. Her husband's mother and a couple of other relatives also live in
this house. Chikktayamma is the sole breadwinner for at least five people.
"We have only 1.5 acres [on part of which she grows mangoes]. So I also work
as a labourer when I can for Rs. 30 a day. I had a BPL card but they [the
authorities] took it from me saying `we'll give you a new card.'" It never
came back, says Mr. Yashavantha. "Instead, they gave her an APL [above the
poverty line] one."

*Huge debt*

In Huligerepura, Chenamma and her family grapple with a debt of over Rs.2
lakh left by her husband Kadegowda, 60, who took his life four years ago.
"Sugarcane just sank and it crushed him," says his son Sidhiraj. "We have
only three acres," says Chenamma. "It's hard to generate a living from that
now." But she and her sons still try. And the family plans to shift to paddy
this year.

In Thoreshettahalli, Mr. Yashavantha's father, Thammanna, a farmer for
decades, says the farm crisis is biting deep. "Most cane growers are not
recovering the cost of production. Input costs go upwards, incomes
downwards. Also, some 40 borewells were drilled in this village last month
but only one succeeded. People are giving up. You will find farmland lying
unused even during season."

What about self-help groups? Jayalakshmamma has paid an initial amount "but
the group has not yet launched. And I cannot afford the Rs.25 a week. Nor
the 24 per cent interest each year." Chikktayamma cannot think of making
such payments regularly. "The SHG concept is a good one," says KRRS leader
K.S. Puttannaiah. "But in some cases, they've also become moneylenders.
Meanwhile, after the initial compensations, the State has no plan for widows
and orphans of farm suicides. When have they even thought about it?"

"Remember, these and all other farm women are breadwinners and have always
been so," says Ms. Jayaram. "Yet, they have no land rights and no land
security. Even in agricultural labour, they are paid far less than men.
Those widowed by the suicides are in constant tension. There are debts
hanging on their heads which they did not incur. There are daughters whose
marriages are pending. The pressure is unending." It is. But all the three
women and many more like them in Mandya stand up to it with incredible
resilience and still try to run their farms and feed their families with
dignity and respect. *⊕*

 *P Sainath* <http://www.indiatogether.org/opinions/psainath/>
29 May 2007
Courtesy: *The Hindu*

 * P Sainath is one of the two recipients of the A.H. Boerma Award, 2001,
granted for his contributions in changing the nature of the development
debate on food, hunger and rural development in the Indian media. *