In Maharashtra's dry belt, onions are born only to die in the fields

Amid stunted crops & stunted dreams, even politicians have turned their backs on this dry belt

Shashikant Garad, 31, has taken over the role of a farmer, from being the son of a farmer a few years ago. In the last season, akin to how a retail investor diversifies his investment portfolio, he diversified his crop portfolio on his 20-acre farmland by planting jowar (sorghum), onion, and lemon — a cereal crop, a vegetable, and a fruit. 

The jowar crop, which rises to near-human height, stopped growing when it reached 3 feet from the ground. Young branches of lemon trees planted five years ago are turning grey in the heat without water, replacing the therapeutic lemony fragrance with a slow-burning smell of twigs. 

Onions, which used to fetch him decent income, stand half-buried in the ground. They are seeing the light of day in the literal sense, but are not reaching the market, or the consumer. 

“Labourers charge Rs 100 or even more, to harvest one gunny bag (Rs 55 kg) of onions. Sorting, grading, and transport take the overall cost to reach the market at Rs 3-4 per kg. The wholesale rate in the market is Rs 300-400 per quintal, so I need to shell out money to sell onions. So I decided to let them rot,” Garad says, holding the half-fresh half-baked onions in his hands. 

Farmer Shashikant Garad of North Solapur holding half-fresh half-baked onions

If drought killed the jowar and the lemon physically, prices dented incomes directly even after the quality of onion that could have been harvested was not too bad. 

Like Garad, many young farmers from the drought-hit block of North Solapur in Solapur district are facing losses in income. District officials say they are the worst affected in the belt due to two factors: Scanty rain in September and subsequent loss in soil moisture that hampered the growth of the rabi crop. 

But crops and incomes are not the only losses farmer families in the region are enduring in this drought. Each household is also losing at least two hours a day to just collect water from a tanker. 

Kolewadi in the adjoining Osmanabad district is one of those rare villages in the state that has had no source of drinking water ever. Water tankers are slaking its thirst. The tribulations do not end here: Women and men alike have to carry pitchers tied to bicycles for a mile or two to reach the tanker point. Further, they have to cough up Rs 100 per week per house to pay to the private tanker service. 

Residents of Kolewadi in Osmanabad district, like this woman, are forced to carry pitchers tied to bicycles for a mile or two to reach the tanker point for their supply of drinking water. The locality hasn't ever had any source of drinking water

And to make it worse, the tanker can draw water only when a farm pump at a particular location gets power, which comes in shifts. In the weeks when the midnight shift of power supply is on, tankers arrive at the village at 2 am. 

Shankar Mate, 26, runs a two-wheeler workshop in the village, and is one of the youngsters facing difficulty finding a bride due to water issues. Asked if he had taken up this matter to the district administration or if those seeking votes in the election are promising tap water, he laughed it off. 

“If a political leader comes to our village, we do not let the discussion continue unless they commit drinking water supply first. They run away and never come back on the issue,” said Mate. 

He also said that many middle-aged men have turned alcoholics; they are unable to steer the village to the direction it needs. 

At the border of these two districts, in Khemwadi in the Tuljapur tehsil of Osmanabad, soybean and onion farmers point out that their own situation has now become worse than the labourers whom they employ on their fields. 

“They charge a flat rate for their day’s work, but our incomes are dependent on market arrivals, export-import policies, eligibility for crop insurance and so many other factors. Now the guy who worked for me has built a new house, and I am still staying in a house where there is no plaster on my brick walls,” says Balasaheb Jatkar. 

For farmers in this belt, milk from cattle is the only saviour. At least 40 per cent households have one member working as an urban migrant labourer in the cities of Pune or Mumbai. Those families who purely depend on farm income are the worst affected.