Some ex-forestry officials, including me, wanted to organize an excursion to project sites of Food and Agriculture Organization’s Leasehold Forestry and Livestock Program (LHFLP). We were delighted that Govinda Kafle, advisor to the program, agreed. The benefits of this trip were evident: we would have a chance to understand the ground realties, thereby providing the project with fresh insights.
One fine morning in June, six of us reached Babarmahal from where we were supposed to leave for Jhirubas, predominantly an ethnic Magar village in remote Palpa. While we were eager to leave at the earliest, some of us were startled to see a set of rather sophisticated-looking FAO vehicles which were ready to take us there. We feared that the sight of fancy vehicles might put off people in the remote village, and that we might be labeled ‘development tourists’, in the words of Robert Chambers. I could not help expressing my fears, and whispered my concern to a colleague. [break]
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Bishu, one of the drivers, apparently heard us, and came over. He tried to convince us that LHFLP had done exemplary work at Jhirubas and the people there would welcome us. Though we were not fully convinced, we had no option. We left Kathmandu to eventually reach Jhirubas the following day, stopping at Tansen for the night. The sturdy FAO vehicles really helped, without them the winding and muddy roads would have been impassable in the pre-monsoon rains.
Seeing is believing
But our skeptic minds were convinced once we left behind Rampur, commercial centre of Eastern Palpa, and entered Jhirubas. The landscape was green with Amriso (broom grass) at different stages of growth between various species of trees. It was reminiscent of tea plantations in the rolling hills of Ilam. We were further amazed to learn that those lands once used to be virtually fallow.
We could see swarms of cheerful people in colorful dresses busy weeding and tending to the plants. Their faces glowed with enthusiasm when we tried to speak to them. They told us that this was the fourth year that they were cultivating amriso. If we are to believe their calculations, they expected every household to earn a whooping Rs. 25,000 per month within a couple years. That was too large a figure for us to believe, though they claimed the market for brooms was unlimited both in India and Nepal. We turned skeptically to Narayan Bhattarai, the field facilitator. He not only confirmed their claims, but also proved it through arithmetic. Moreover, he stated that 354 households had already earned Rs. 1.6 million each. The amount was expected to rise dramatically in the near future owing to crop maturity and expansion of cultivated areas.
Improved goat keeping and vegetable growing had also substantially contributed to their income. They had bought a tractor which was used for community transportation, and it earned extra income when it was free. They also claimed that the number of school going children is on the rise. Their new clothes and hygienic environment testified that the place could no longer be labeled ‘backward’, a tag often given to Magar settlements. We realized then why virtually no one from the place had chosen to migrate abroad for employment.
Revealing break
Our visit was coming to an end, and we wanted the villagers to come together for group photographs and final remarks. They happily complied. To our surprise, they had arranged for quick snacks—millet pancakes and honey served on clean banana leaves. We enjoyed the delicacy at the hilltop amidst lush green vegetation. Since we were tired from our hectic schedule, one of our group members wanted to refresh himself with a smoke.
A murmur went up in Magar language, and we wanted to know what they were saying. We learnt that it was their disapproval against smoking in public. A big laugh broke out, and my colleague humbly responded by putting out his cigarette. The villagers’ remarks were in fact consistent with their intention of putting an end to drinking and smoking in public. This also demonstrated their courage to point their fingers at what they considered wrong, no matter who the doer was.
Wrap up
I am not trying to romanticize our achievements, but only to document what I noticed. While it may be difficult for someone completely new to appreciate the degree of change in a village, it was not hard for me to perceive the magical difference.
I reflected on my own planned field visit to the place when I served as District Forest Officer (DFO) in Palpa in the early nineties. A supposedly energetic and ambitious officer, I had even reached Rampur, the closest bazaar to Jhirubas. But I cancelled the actual visit to Jhirubas due to the overwhelming negative messages about food availability, hygiene and accommodation there.
I had decided to turn back when I was a mere day’s walk from the destination. No wonder, I was so amazed at the changes! I was now even thinking of replicating the Jhirubas model elsewhere with necessary modifications as a means of resource regeneration and poverty alleviation. Maybe the area could prove a turning point for our youths to engage more productively in their villages rather than opt to migrate for employment.
We might ask how this transformation came about. Though our brief excursion was inadequate to gather all information, some clues were evident. Those include provision of leasehold forestry to the poor, availability of large tracts of land for broom-grass plantation, committed field staff who have won the mind and hearts of the people, and keeping local politics out of development and conservation work. These may be the take-home lessons to the community forestry programs of the country which had succeeded in rejuvenating forestry resources but are far from eradicating poverty in the areas where they work.
The author is former Joint
Secretary of Ministry of
Forests and Soil Conservation
baraljc@yahoo.com
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