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No Aadhaar or Voter ID: Here's Where Chief Election Commissioner's Claim on Inclusion of Vulnerable Tribes Doesn't Check Out

The Wire visited several villages in Maharashtra where members of the Particularly Vulnerable Tribal Groups do not even have basic documentation to prove their citizenship or existence, let alone voter identity cards.  
Illustration: The Wire.
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Mulshi: On October 15, Chief Election Commissioner Rajiv Kumar, during a press conference in New Delhi, outlined several “initiatives” his office had undertaken to make the upcoming assembly elections in Maharashtra and Jharkhand “more inclusive.”

Kumar said, “A lot of emphasis has been laid on enrolling the Particularly Vulnerable Tribal Groups (PVTG) in Maharashtra and Jharkhand.”

In his PowerPoint presentation, the names of the three PVTG communities in Maharashtra – Katkari, Kolam, and Maria Gond – along with the eight in Jharkhand – Asur, Birhor, Malphadiya, Pahadiya, Saurya Pahadiya, Birajiya, Korwa, and Savar – were highlighted.  

Kumar stated that his office had managed to enrol all adult members of these communities – 2.77 lakh people in Maharashtra and 1.78 lakhs in Jharkhand – on the voter list for the upcoming elections.  

However, the claims made by the Chief Election Commissioner do not align with the reality on the ground.

The Wire visited several villages in Mulshi in Maharashtra where members of the Katkari community have been struggling for survival for decades. Many families here do not even have basic documentation to prove their citizenship or existence, let alone voter identity cards.  

Maharashtra has over 47 tribal groups spread across 15 districts, constituting close to 10% of the total state population. Among them are the four PVTG groups. The condition of the tribal communities across the state has been dire, and among them, the PVTGs are the most neglected.  

No electricity or borewells

One such village is Pomgaon, located in Mulshi Taluka of Pune, 63 kilometres from Pune city. The road leading to Pomgaon is picturesque, with winding roads flanked by resorts, but the village itself is in distinct contrast from the modern amenities of nearby areas. The houses in Pomgaon are thatched-roof huts, unlike the pucca houses in non-Katkari villages nearby. These huts are mud-daubed and made of palm leaves, grass and the sticks from local karvi plants.

The landless villagers here, along with residents of 51 other similar hamlets in Mulshi, follow a migratory pattern.’ Photo: Sukanya Shantha

Despite a population of over 150 – all from the Katkari community – the hamlet is in complete darkness. There is no electricity or borewell or hand pumps. Some Katkari families manage to borrow electricity from neighbouring farmers’ homes, but the price is steep. In exchange, they have to till their land for free for as many days as demanded of them.  

The landless villagers here, along with residents of 51 other similar hamlets in Mulshi, follow a migratory pattern. They travel to nearby cities and states in search of work, often as brick kiln labourers, farm workers for ‘upper’ caste landowners, or in coal mines in neighbouring states. These villages mostly remain deserted throughout the year.  

The Wire visited Pomgaon shortly after Diwali, when the community returns home for the festival or family events like weddings. For some, it is also a time to visit local government offices, hoping to get their documents processed.  

‘For everything, one has to have at least one valid document’

Forty-five-year-old Kalebai Walekar shared that she had lost count of how many times she had traveled to local offices in search of documents. “Just last week, I went to Mulshi (the Taluka headquarters), 22 kilometres from here, twice,” she said. With no public transport or personal vehicles, Walekar said that they must hire vehicles to reach Mulshi. “I ended up spending over Rs 700 on travel last week,” she said.  

Walekar has two married daughters; both have children. She added that no one in their family possesses any documentation. “We don’t know where to begin. For everything, one has to have at least one valid document. We’ve tried appealing to the local gram panchayat, the collector, and even the government,” she said.  

Just before the elections, the Mahayuti government announced the Mukhyamantri Ladki Bahin Yojana, which would provide Rs 1,500 to women.’ Photo: Sukanya Shantha

The villages here don’t have Primary Health Centres (PHCs), Anganwadis, or even ASHA workers visiting them. One of the villagers says that every time someone falls ill, they have to be carried all the way to the city.  

Just before the elections, the Mahayuti government announced the Mukhyamantri Ladki Bahin Yojana, which would provide Rs 1,500 to women. However, without any documents, the villagers have been unable to avail themselves of the support.

Along with state apathy, the communities here have ended up in such a terrible state due to the historic land struggles across Mulshi. In one of the articles for The Wire, Nandini Oza, an oral historian and former activist with the Narmada Bachao Andolan, writes about the land struggle in the region, most popularly known as the Mulshi Satyagraha. Oza says that the Mulshi Satyagraha of 1921 was the first anti-dam struggle in India – and possibly even the world – against the Mulshi Dam, built at the confluence of the Mula and Nila rivers near Pune in western Maharashtra.  

This people’s resistance was against the Tatas, which wanted to build the Mulshi Dam to provide electricity to Mumbai. As many as 52 villages were ruthlessly submerged as the dam was built. Since no land was provided for rehabilitation, both by the then-colonial British government and the Tatas, the villagers began to live on the periphery of the dam.  

In Valanewadi, many women shared stories of having lost their husbands in their 30s. It is a common sight in the community to see single mothers struggling to raise their children.’ The children’s faces have been blurred because they are minors. Photo: Sukanya Shantha.

‘No new structure’ threat from Tata

A few kilometres from Pomgaon is Valanewadi. Here, 17 houses with thatched roofs have stood since the early 1950s. The families, all belonging to the Katkari community, say they migrated from the other side of the Tamini Ghat in search of a livelihood. “Our villages in the Raigad district faced severe drought that year. So, we moved out (sometime in the 70s) and have since lived here,” Kamal Jadhav, a 35-year-old unlettered woman, said.  

Although the village has only 17 small huts, every house accommodates at least four to five families. The villagers are barred from expanding their huts or building new ones. “This land is owned by the Tatas. Every few days, the company sends goons across different villages to see if any new structure has been built. If they see any change in the existing structure, they immediately destroy it,” Jadhav says.  

Most villages that The Wire visited shared stories of violence, destruction, and constant intimidation allegedly by the men employed by the Tata Group. 

Unemployment, acute poverty, and terrible living conditions have pushed the community, especially the men, into alcoholism, villagers said. Liquor is brewed within villages and consumed locally by men and women across age groups. Incidents of spurious liquor causing deaths are common in this region. In Valanewadi, many women shared stories of having lost their husbands in their 30s. It is a common sight in the community to see single mothers struggling to raise their children.  

Fighting all odds, 45-year-old Kalsubai Jadhav somehow managed to get her children educated – perhaps the first family in the village to achieve this. The Jadhavs are also the first to show government documents to assert their existence. One of Kalsubai Jadhav’s children, Shrikant, studied till Class 10. He is the first in the village to do so, she said. But the education has not meant much. In the absence of a local job, Shrikant had had to migrate to Yadgir district in Karnataka to work as a labourer at a coal mine.  

Across party lines, the perception around this community is the same.’ Naresh Gaikwad (standing). Photo: Sukanya Shantha

Activist Nagesh Gaikwad, who has been working with the community for over six years, says that while the challenges are many, if the government wants, it can have these concerns addressed overnight. “But no one looks at the community as their constituency. This is a very small and vulnerable tribal group. Across party lines, the perception around this community is the same,” Gaikwad said. 

His organization, Satyashodhak Bahujan Aghadi, has slowly attempted to bring some progress in the region. Through activists (mostly from the community) associated with his organisation, a few families in every village have managed to get ration cards in the past few years. A few also have Aadhaar cards now. “But these are the bare minimum. The ration card would make sense only if the local Public Distribution System (PDS) functioned properly here. Their Aadhaar card holds some value only if their bank accounts, PDS cards, or their job cards are linked to it. None of this has happened so far,” Gaikwad said.  

Mulshi Taluka falls under the Bhor constituency in western Maharashtra. In 2019, Sangram Anantrao Thopte of the Congress won the seat by defeating Kuldip Sudam Konde of the Shiv Sena (undivided then) with a small margin of 9,206 votes. The Bhor assembly constituency falls under the Baramati Lok Sabha constituency. In the 2024 Lok Sabha elections, Nationalist Congress Party – Sharadchandra Pawar’s candidate Supriya Sule won from Baramati Lok Sabha (MP) seat.  

Thopte is back in the fray and is contesting against NCP (Ajit Pawar faction) candidate Shankar Hiraman Mandekar. Across the many villages that The Wire visited, no one could tell who their elected candidate is or who is contesting in the election this time. “How should it matter to us when we don’t matter to them at all?” said 59-year-old Sharad Walnekar of Tamini village.

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