Sunita Narain: The laboratory of development

DOWN TO EARTH

How will vast regions of India, where highly unreliable rainfall makes the difference between famine and sustenance, cope with climate change? Over 85 per cent of the cultivated area in this country is either directly dependent on rain or depends on rain to recharge its groundwater. Seasonal rain provides water for irrigation, drinking and household needs. It provides water to livestock and is necessary to grow fodder for animals. The question also is how people in these regions will ensure they do not over-extract and deplete available water? The question is important when groundwater is being pumped with deeper and deeper tube wells to grow water-guzzling crops like sugarcane, paddy, wheat and even flowers.

I ask these questions once again because, for once, I have some answers. Last week, I travelled to Hiware Bazaar village in Ahmednagar district to find an amazing example of ecological regeneration. This village of thousand-odd families in the rain-shadow, drought-prone region of Maharashtra was reportedly destitute and lawless some 15 years ago.

As I heard this, I realised I was standing on the same hill where forests had been once cut. All I could see now was thick forest, vast expanses of grass and lush green fields in the village below. Last year, the village's own rain-gauge showed rainfall had been good""some 541 mm. But this year it was below average""some 300 mm. This rain had come after three years of crippling scarcity and drought. So, small rainfall gains had given huge returns. How?

The turnaround began in the early 1990s when Popat Rao Pawar took over as village sarpanch. The state's employment guarantee scheme was used to provide money to village workers to dig trenches and bunds along the contours in the forestland to hold water. Then it built check dams in the drains and dug village tanks. People invested in levelling their fields to hold water. It is estimated that this contribution alone cost them over Rs 70 lakh in labour and equipment. The gains were big. For a start, grass productivity increased and this, in turn, pushed milk yields. By 2007, the village sold 3,000 litres of milk daily.

As water became available, new wells were dug: there was one well for each household. Pawar says he soon realised that when water is not at a premium, people lose sight of community concerns. The attitude is, "This is my water and I will use it for growing high-value crops, even if it depletes the water table." In 1997, the village decided not to grow sugarcane. This wasn't enough. Nearby villages were prospering growing high-value crops for export. What could persuade Hiware Bazaar residents to do things differently?

The village started keeping records of its wells: each month's data from six observation wells was matched with data from four rain-gauges and related to its watersheds. This started the system for water audits: the village worked with the local state groundwater agencies to assess water availability and to match it with cropping patterns. Each year the area under each crop was calculated in terms of its water need. This year, for instance, the gram sabha decided that there was not enough rainfall to support wheat. When I asked villagers tending their fields why they agreed to not grow wheat, their reply was simple: they could see their well had less water. Science and practice had built bridges.

The village has a simple rule: if there is 100 mm of rainfall then there is drinking water for all and enough for one crop; 200 mm of rainfall gets the village drinking water, one full crop and two half crops (crops planted on half the field); and if the rainfall is 300 mm or more, then the village is assured drinking water and irrigation for three full crops.

In other words, little rain but assured gains. The question is can this model be replicated. Can this laboratory of development be a teacher to others? Let's continue to discuss this.