For Sundarbans, a familiar tale of destruction

Human interference and a flawed development model are making cyclones more destructive for the ecologically fragile region, writes NAMRATA ACHARYA

If embankments are not repaired before monsoons, which is just a few weeks away, many more villages would be inundated and salinised in the next few days

On May 20, when Amphan, the tropical cyclone that ravaged coastal West Bengal, was gathering pace, a 12year-old child of Indrapur village in the Sundarbans stepped out of his house to answer nature’s call. From out of nowhere, a monstrous spell of wind blew up a nearby asbestos roof that cut right across the child’s neck, killing him on the spot.

That’s just one story in the trail of destruction caused by Amphan, as it swept a part of humanity in the Sundarban deltaic region with gusts of 185 kmph and waves 15 feet tall. Nevertheless, all the 102 islands on the Indian side of the region, including 54 populated ones, stood the blow. Out of the ones with habitation, 11 are extremely vulnerable to sea level rise due to steep erosion.

The interplay of tidal waves and mangroves that stitch the soil of the Sundarbans reduced the potential damage, say experts. The landfall of Amphan happened during low tide, as the winds blew from south to east. Then, after the eye of the storm passed, the direction of winds reversed. In minutes, much of the water that had inundated the islands receded, says an eyewitness and a senior official at the West Bengal forest department.

Prosenjit Haldar, a resident of Palder village in southern Sundarbans, recalls the horrors of that cyclonic night as he picks up fragments of his destructed home. As the storm intensified and his mud house started falling apart, Haldar along with his two children, wife and elderly parents rushed to take shelter in a nearby half-constructed concrete structure. The village has only about three to four pukka houses, where everyone huddled around till the cyclone passed. Through the night, portions of the half-constructed roof kept falling, keeping them on the edge.

The next morning, when Haldar returned home, he found his house was reduced to a skeleton of bamboos. Saline water had intruded his farm, damaging standing paddy crops, which would have earned him ~45,000. For the next few years now, the salinity has rendered the soil unfit for cultivation.

The extent of damage is yet to be ascertained. Rough estimates suggest more than a million people have lost homes. At Sagar island, one of the biggest in the region, more than 80 per cent houses have been destroyed. According to

Sugata Hazra, a professor at the school of oceanographic studies at Jadavpur University, close to 500 kms of embankments now need to be repaired. The cost of construction of one km of embankment is roughly ~1 crore.

At Sagar, about 8,000 betel leaf farms, a mainstay in the region, have been destroyed, said a senior government official. Several ponds have also turned saline making them unfit for fishing.

At Gosaba, the biggest island of the Sundarbans, out of 14 village councils, embankment breach has been reported in seven. “It is an economic disaster. The immediate task is to urgently repair the embankments,” says a senior government official at Sagar.

If these embankments are not repaired before monsoons, which is just a few weeks away, many more villages would be inundated and salinised in the next few days.

Another danger lurks in the habitations near the reserve forest. The boundary between tiger zones and human settlement has blurred as more than 90 per cent of the nylon fencing bordering the 110 km stretch of the reserve forest has been damaged. Shortage of nylon wires due to the lockdown has added to the woes of forest department officials who are repairing the fences on a war footing. In several forest camp offices located inside the reserve, the boundary wall has vanished, making them highly prone to tiger attacks.

Amphan has destroyed whatever possessions people had. They were already struggling due to the lockdown. Honey collection, the main source of livelihood in the region, has been on hold since the lockdown. Every year close to 30 metric tonne of honey is collected from the forests, but this year there has been no production at all.

Since March the Sundarbans has seen a large number of migrant workers returning home due to Covid. Many of these returnees had migrated after Aila ravaged the region in 2009. In most villages, the earning male person is a migrant worker.

According to official estimates, at Sagar alone, 6,000-7,000 people migrated from the region in the last few years in search of jobs. Out of them, about 3,000 have already returned.

“The cost of repairing each of the houses comes to about ~12,000, which is now out of reach for these migrant workers who have exhausted all their savings in the last two months. Many still await pending salaries from their employers,” says Sanjeev Kumar Singh, founder, Asha, an NGO working in the Sundarbans.

Social distancing has vanished. “The destruction due to Amphan is so big that the fear of Covid is gone,” says Aniruddha Dey, executive director, Professional Institute for Development and Socio Environmental Management, an environment consultancy.

“Now, the bigger challenge is to manage the twin crisis of Covid and Amphan, while maintaining quarantine protocols,” says Sanjeev Sagar, the village council head at Ghoramara.

Amphan has highlighted once again that the Sundarbans need a different development model. The soil which forms the delicate contours of the world's largest river delta, creased with mangroves, cannot sustain concrete structures or tourism, say experts.

Human settlements need to be synergised with its natural habitation, says Ajanta Dey, joint secretary and project director at NEWS, an NGO involved in mangrove plantations in the region.

“Sundarbans was never meant for tourism or building hotels by the hospitality sector,” says a senior official of the West Bengal forest department.

The crisis has also exposed some disturbing facts about the region, like the extensive use of asbestos roofs, a banned substance due to toxic effects.

“We found after Bulbul, another storm that hit the Sundarbans in November, a large number of asbestos sheds were distributed, which was shocking as it’s a banned product,” says Dey.

“More than food, people now need long-term solutions. The plan must include relief, reconstruction and rehabilitation. The loss of livelihoods needs to be looked from the angle of environment friendliness,” he adds.