Sinapalli may be a small block in Nuapada district of Odisha, but its thick forest cover attracts many a nature lover to this otherwise nondescript region. Located between the borders of Kapsi and Sardapur villages is a densely wooded hillock that the locals call Kapsi Dongar. Venture towards this verdant wilderness, and from among the trees could emerge a fierce, middle-aged woman armed with an axe on her shoulder. This is Hara Dei Majhi, the 55-year-old protector of this hillock.

The illiterate tribal woman has been keeping a sharp vigil over these 11.25 acres of forest land for over three decades now. After all, this, she says, “is the legacy of my late husband”. Anang had initiated the planting of trees on what was once a barren patch at the foothills of Kapsi Dongar. He understood the vital role forests played in balancing the eco-system, and so nurtured the trees like his own children.

In the beginning, Majhi was not involved in his work. “As we were poor, we depended on minor forest produce and tendu leaves to keep our home fires burning. However, due to gradual deforestation our livelihood was affected and we became daily wage labourers to feed ourselves. But Anang hardly had time for wage work because he felt that the task of protecting the forest from timber smugglers was more important.”

She even resented her husband’s preoccupation with the forest, as it meant he could not provide adequately for their family of five. But looking back, she says, “He made me understand the need for forest conservation. He said that it was the green cover that ensured good rainfall; that provided tribals like us with food. Gradually, I started taking an interest in his work and even helped him in guarding the trees.”

Anang spent his entire life taking care of the forest, and it was amidst its green cover that he passed away in 1995. Even today, Majhi cannot forget that fateful, stormy night. “My husband lost his life while protecting the forest. It was raining heavily and he got ready with his baton, spades and proceeded towards the forest, which is about 3 km from the village. Later, when he did not return, I went to search for him with some neighbours,” she says.

Majhi found Anang with severe injuries — he had hurt his head and was bleeding profusely. Although in pain, he told her that he had caught some timber thieves cutting trees. When he tried to chase them away, they attacked him and fled. As there was no government medical facility in the village, they had to wait until morning to get him treated. “Our village vaidya gave some medicine, but it did not work. My husband refused to go back home. He told me he wanted to breathe his last in the forest. He also urged me to take care of the forest,” she continues, her eyes moist.

Majhi took on her husband’s unfinished business as a challenge. But protecting the forest as well as looking after three small children was easier said than done. “I had no proper source of income. I could not go to distant places for wage work, leaving behind my kids and the forest. So I worked part time as domestic help.” A typical day for her began with a one-hour patrol of the forest. Back home, she would complete household chores, feed the children and head out to work in other people’s homes. At four in the evening she once again went to the forest. “Sometimes I would stay late into the night in the dongar ,” she says.

Requesting her neighbours to keep an eye on her children when she was away, she was convinced the forest too needed her attention. “The State’s forests are on the verge of extinction because of timber smuggling, extensive mining, and unplanned industrialisation. The forest is the lifeline for us tribal people. More than 60 per cent of tribals do not own any land. They either survive on minor forest produce or clear out a small area to cultivate pulses, ragi and millet. So, for us, it is important to save this habitat.”

Local activist Bijay Kumar Sahish says there are two major threats to the forests, “First, forest fires are very common, particularly during the hot and dry months of March and April. While some are accidental, quite a few are started deliberately. It destroys the wildlife and the flora and fauna. Also, there is the other menace of timber thieves. Har Dei has been fiercely guarding the Kapsi Dongar forest from these dangers.” Incidentally, the Kapsi Dongar forest has more varieties of trees, including teak, sal, tendu and mahua, than the adjoining forest tracts.

In a bid to involve the local community in her effort, in 2001 Majhi formed a committee, the Kapsi Dongar Vana Surakshya Samittee, with support from the district forest department. Over the years, as the leader of this group she has been successful in ensuring that the forest remains encroachment-free and flourishes, and has won some awards too. Sarat Chandra Panda, District Forest Officer, Khariar Forest Division, is all praise for her, “I have seen many groups protecting the forest in Odisha during my career, but Hara Dei is unique. Her dedication and love for nature has inspired many villages in the region to form Van Surakshya Samitees. Even the incidence of forest fires in our block has halved in the last five years.”

Of course, these accolades do not mean her struggle has ended. With only a token monetary help from the Government, she still has to work hard to survive. At a time when forests are fast disappearing everywhere, Majhi’s unique crusade to treat every tree as a dearly loved child will continue to inspire — and, hopefully, encourage others to follow suit.

© Women’s Feature Service

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