Mohsina Malik, TwoCircles.net
Koraput (Odisha): Kendu or Tendu leaf is more than just a forest product for tribal communities across the country. It is their lifeline. Harvested during the dry months and used in the making of beedis, these leaves hold the promise of seasonal income for thousands of families. But year after year, that promise slips away — tangled in red tape, delayed permissions and alleged government indifference.
With harvesting in full swing and the monsoon approaching fast, eight gram sabhas in the Boipariguda block of Odisha’s Koraput still await approval to independently sell their kendu leaf stock of this season.
Despite legal backing under the 2006 Forest Rights Act (FRA), which empowers tribal communities to own, collect and market minor forest produce without state interference, the Forest Department is yet to greenlight their sales to private traders.
Villagers fear a repeat of last year’s disaster when kendu stock worth Rs 34 lakh was lost to rain and rot due to similar delays. This year’s leaves, too, are already beginning to wither as the wait drags on.
“Our community is working hard to collect these leaves, but we have no control over the market. The government promises us the right to sell directly to private traders, but each year the process gets delayed. We are losing everything we have worked for. In the coming months, there will be the onset of monsoon season, which will ultimately affect our stock if we are not able to sell them this time. We will have to bear the huge financial as well as emotional losses,” says Naresh, a resident of Badali Beda.
He is extremely frustrated. “Who would be responsible for our losses? Would the government take responsibility if any forbidden thing happened to us? Will we receive any compensation for that? No, that would be a dream for us, as that also requires visits to the government offices. It would be not their loss, but ours and our hard work,” he says.
Naresh is not alone. “We are part of the forest and live off its produce. The government needs to recognise our right to sell what the villagers harvest. We do not want handouts, but the chance to earn a fair price for our work,” says Niran (name withheld on request), a representative from one of the eight gram sabhas.
The current regulations require these communities to sell only to the Odisha Forest Development Corporation (OFDC), often at prices far below market value. But under the FRA, they are legally entitled to bypass the state agency and sell directly to private buyers. This has shown success in districts like Nabarangpur and Kalahandi, where deregulation brought higher earnings and instant payments.
In Koraput, however, that freedom remains elusive.
“It is heartbreaking to see the leaves we collect rotting because we do not have permission. Why should we be punished for following the law? All we want is the freedom to trade as we wish, earn a good income, feed our families and meet their daily expenses,” says Kavi, another villager.
He continues, “Do the government want us to beg on the road or go into debt and let our families suffer? We are only demanding our rights. Because of no income, our families suffer and our children’s education is affected, which we do not want anymore. We just want to live peacefully and without any financial losses.”
Despite multiple directives, including a 2022 order from the chief secretary supporting gram sabha-led trade, the Forest Department maintains its stance.
“As the sale of kendu leaves has not been deregulated in Koraput district, we are bound to adhere to the existing regulations. There are procurements by the Forest Department that continue at the government-fixed rate. However, villagers are reluctant to sell their stock at that price to the government. Rather than allowing the leaves to go to waste, it would be in their interest to sell them to the government under the existing provisions,” says Divisional Forest Officer Sarat Kumar Sahu.
But villagers reject this rationale. “If we again bear the losses, we will not have money to feed our families. We are not asking for any luxury; we just want approval, that is it. The law says we have the right to manage and sell our produce. Yet, every year, we have to jump through hoops to get approval from the government. If the government delays the process, we will lose our income,” says Kavi.
He adds, “We also do not want to sell our products at the fixed government rates; we want full-swing implementation of the laws. Why cannot the government do so and change the system rather than let us face unfair consequences due to lapses in the implementation of the policies?”
Madhuri, a resident of Panasput village, shares her distress. “We do not understand why we have to wait for permission to sell something that belongs to us. My family depends on the income from kendu leaves. But each year, when the government fails to approve our sales in time, we end up with nothing. The leaves start to dry up and lose their value. We work hard, but we are denied what is rightfully ours. It is so unfair.”
She further says, “I want to marry off my daughter; how can I? When I do not have money to do so? I do not want debt. I cannot meet the requirements and demands of the would-be in-laws of my daughter. I would die but not borrow money from anyone. The government should think of our welfare, not a disaster.”
Pankaj, a young undergraduate from the area, also shared the same concern. “It is not about asking for charity; it is about fair trade and economic justice. We have the resources, but we need the freedom to sell them to the market directly. We have seen there are middlemen in this trade who earn well out of our stocks, and what we get is nothing. We want this chain to end and have what is ours.”
The issue in Koraput points to a larger pattern of alleged apathy in the implementation of tribal rights across India. Despite progressive legislation like the FRA, the gap between policy and practice remains wide.
Environmental policy expert Rahul Mathur puts it bluntly, “The government must prioritise the timely granting of permissions. Without this, the very people who have been the custodians of the forests for generations are being denied the opportunity to profit from the resources they manage.”
As the monsoon nears and the kendu leaves begin to spoil, the clock is ticking.