Farmers working with Kilmora, a social enterprise in Uttarakhand, tell Yashvi Shah how their harvest has halved over the last five decades, especially as sources of water dry up.
Springs, rivulets, lakes, and rainfall form the bedrock of life in Uttarakhand’s picturesque valleys. But what happens when springs dry up and rainfall is unpredictable? Every task becomes a hardship—be it cooking, cleaning, or farming. According to this 2018 government report, “a staggering number” of 12,000 natural springs in Uttarakhand are speculated to be “completely parched.” Since then, the climate crisis has only worsened, leading to either extreme rainfall and cloudbursts, or large spells of scanty rain and snow.
Kilmora, a social enterprise and one of The Locavore’s producer partners, works closely with farmers, weavers, and craftspeople in the Nainital district to provide them with sustainable livelihoods, especially in the face of the climate crisis. It was established in 1996 as the livelihood development wing of the NGO Central Himalayan Rural Action Group (CHIRAG) with a goal to support communities in the Kumaon region. Currently, Kilmora works with over 300 farmers in the Nainital district, and uses the profits earned to give a fair price to these farmers.
Kilmora exclusively buys rain-fed grains like rajma, black soy, and finger millet, among other crops, advocating for traditional methods as a substitute for off-season irrigation. Moreover, given the fluctuating, unpredictable weather patterns, they buy produce that is in season and aren’t rigid about the variety of grains like amaranth, finger millet, or rajma available. They also source native fruits such as Malta oranges, galgal or pahadi nimbu (hill lemons), and Sarsoma plums to make jams and preserves.
“Increased rainfall in the Himalayan region is damaging crops. Going back to traditional crops which weather such conditions better than cash crops could partially help offset losses for farmers. Traditional harvest calendars no longer apply, with stone fruits like apricots ripening in April (instead of July), or black soy being ready by late November (instead of mid-October),” says Anamika Das, Managing Director at Kilmora. “Local millets, beans, and spices are hardier than peas which have taken over this region. However, these peas fetch a very high price in the market. Until we can match those prices with local produce, how do we build a case for sustainability?”
In order to get a closer glimpse of how life in the mountains is impacted by unpredictable weather and the lack of water resources, we spoke to farmers and team members—Lakshmi Devi, Bhagwati Devi, Pramod Tiwari, and Mukesh Bisht—at Kilmora.
“The weather was so cold that all harmful insects would die naturally”
Lakshmi Devi, Village Managher, Darima
Seventy-year-old Lakshmi Devi has lived in the mountains all her life. She starts her day at 5 am with breakfast and house chores, after which she goes into the forest to collect wood for cooking and fodder for her family’s cows. She then heads to the farm where she grows madua or finger millet, bhatt or black soybean, and gahat or horsegram. “I love farming here [in the mountains]. The water is pure and clean. We grow what we eat,” she says. But changing weather patterns have made everything a little bit harder.
“Earlier, we tilled the land using bullocks. The soil would then be left bare and then three to four women would spread manure from their daliyas (baskets) on this tilled soil. It would then be left for around three to four days, after which it would be tilled again,” Lakshmi explains. “The weather was so cold that all harmful insects would die naturally. Plus, whatever remained would be killed with the eventual snowfall. And the soil would turn moist, as the water from the snow slowly seeped into the soil.”
In the past 15 years, the amount of rainfall and snowfall has significantly decreased in the region. “We would have around three feet of snow and that would stay on the ground for months, from December to March each year. There is hardly any snow now,” she says.
“We are still growing the same things, but our harvest has almost halved”
Bhagwati Devi, Village Manarsha, Kaakdighat
Bhagwati Devi has been farming ever since she was a little girl. Her family grew horsegram, black soybean, soybean, and black gram. “We are still growing the same things, but our harvest has almost halved,” she says about the changes she has witnessed in the past 50 years.
“Our crops have always been rainfed. We had adequate rains earlier, but there is hardly any rain now,” she explains. “In summer, we grow cauliflower and tomatoes, and they are rainfed too. We have no water sources here for irrigation.” The dearth of water means that while Bhagwati’s family grows enough to eat, they do not have surplus produce to sell anymore. She treks seven kilometres downhill to fetch water daily, and climbs back up with full containers: “My primary work is now fetching water. Is this what I should be doing at my age?” A possible solution, she suggests, is to build tanks in the village that could store rainwater.
Bhagwati’s work with Kilmora helps her in earning a supplementary income. She is also part of a women’s self-help group formed by Kilmora, which helps her to manage her savings.
“We don’t sow dhan [paddy] or gehu [wheat] anymore because water is scarce”
Pramod Tiwari, Village Mauna, Pyura
Forty-year-old Pramod Tiwari grows vegetables, fruits, lentils, and herbs—all of which depend on rain—in Mauna village. However, due to the unpredictable nature of rainfall, his family now relies on drip irrigation. “There’s a lot of difference [in climate and crops] from 40 years ago and now,” he says. “We don’t sow dhan [paddy] or gehu [wheat] anymore because water is scarce. Earlier, our area would also yield a lot of potatoes—around 4–5 quintals [400-500 kilograms]—but now there is no water.”
Pramod also harvests honey along with his family and neighbours. Between the two families, they own three to four supers or beehive boxes. Each box gives them around one to one-and-a-half litres of honey. However, because of unseasonal rains and floods, bees are leaving the region, and moving closer to the plains.
“Farming and harvesting in mountains is difficult,” Pramod says. “During the [harvest] season we manage, but in the off-season we have very little earnings.”
“This year, it has either been raining a lot—leading to floods—or not raining at all”
Mukesh Bisht, Village Girgaon, Reetha
Mukesh Bisht, who oversees production and packaging at Kilmora, is regularly in contact with the farmers and encourages them to grow herbs like basil, parsley, and chamomile, as well as fruits like plums and oranges. “This year, it has either been raining a lot—leading to floods—or not raining at all,” he says.
The impact of the climate crisis does not stop at growing and harvesting produce. It extends to sourcing, production, packaging, and transportation too. For instance, this year in June, apricots grew in abundance, and were ripe and juicy, owing to the rains. However, because of the rain, transporting these delicate fruits to cities proved to be a challenge. As an alternative, Kilmora tried to dehydrate and dry the apricots so that farmers could receive a fair price for their crop. While this proved successful, a similar attempt to dehydrate persimmons failed last year, owing to unseasonal rainfall that resulted in humidity levels and rot. This year though, they successfully dehydrated persimmons.
We would like to thank Mukesh Bisht and Anamika Das for their interviewing and translation inputs for this story. To read more about Kilmora and their practices and efforts, check out our producer page here. This is a paid partnership with Kilmora. We strive to keep the practices of a producer transparent and honest across all forms of partnerships.
Yashvi Shah is the Partnerships Copywriter at The Locavore. In her free time, she likes creating playlists for her friends, and going on runs.
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