This week's newsletter was written by Sanket Jain, an independent journalist and documentary photographer based in Kolhapur, India. Jain is also the co-founder of Insight Walk, a nonprofit that offers teaching fellowships to rural community women. These women work to ensure every child in their village has access to contextual education of their choice. Follow Jain's work on instagram @snkt_jain.
GULAB MULLANI NEVER IMAGINED . . .
one of the most nutritious Sorghum varieties would be a blessing in disguise.
When the village elders who survived the 1972 drought - one of the worst calamities in India's Maharashtra state, affecting 20 million people - were asked what helped them survive, they replied: Kar Jondhala (indigenous Sorghum). A highly nutritious crop, its significant feature is a need for minimal water that results in resistance to high temperature and drought. Cultivated only once a year, “Kar Jondhala is resistant to most pests, eliminating the need for chemical pesticides,” says Shakila, Gulab’s wife.
It sounds like a farmer’s dream crop, but since the early 2000s, many have abandoned it. “It takes five months to grow, whereas the hybrid varieties require only three months and have at least thrice the yield,” says Gulab.
The Mullanis have witnessed this significant difference in yield. They now cultivate both varieties and shared that, “In an acre, we harvest 1500-2000 kilograms of hybrid Sorghum, whereas Kar Jondhala just reaches 500-600 kilograms.”
Moreover, as irrigation facilities started reaching his drought-prone Dongarsoni village in Maharashtra’s Sangli district, farmers moved to hybrid varieties or grape farming. “It’s ironic. When there was water scarcity, we were eating healthy grains and now when there’s water, everyone is moving towards less nutritious crops,” he says.
Dongarsoni alone, a village of about 4,500 residents, has over 1500 acres of the grape vineyard today. India is the sixth-highest sorghum-producing country globally and is reporting a massive sorghum decline, from seven million metric tons in 2011 to less than five in 2021. Some reasons include changing eating habits, rising heat waves, climate change, lesser prices, and minimal output compared to hybrid varieties. But there are a few last-generation drought-hit farmers, like the Mullanis, cultivating indigenous sorghum and its health benefits: it helps control blood sugar level, is rich in iron, fiber, and proteins, and improves heart health, among other things.
Primarily used to make porridge and bhakri (flatbread), Kar Jondhala maintains a unique demand among elderly farmers and cattle owners. Its stalk reaches 15 feet, double the height of a hybrid, and provides a highly nutritious fodder. “If the harvest isn’t good, farmers can still earn at least Rs 33000 ($425) per acre from stalks alone,” explains Gulab.
However, with the rapidly changing climate and increasing population, waiting for five months isn’t a viable option. “Today, I can’t grow any hybrid crop without chemical fertilizers,” says Gulab. Also, over the past decade, the farmers in his area are rapidly increasing the use of chemical fertilizers to keep up with the changing climate, where untimely rains and longer dry spells have become common.
As a result, finding Kar Jondhala seeds has become extremely rare. Gulab estimates his family has a legacy of 150 years of cultivating this crop. Today, it can be found only in the drought-prone parts of Sangli district.
“For the past three decades, farmers have been selling all their indigenous crops without retaining seeds. Now multinational corporations have developed hybrid seeds, and we are forced to buy them,” he explains.
75-year-old Narayan Gaikwad from the neighboring Kolhapur district’s Jambhali village recollects the time from the 1970s when hybrid varieties were first grown in his region. “In just two years, we saw a rapid decline in Kar Jondhala’s output, and then it stopped growing,” he says. Farmers from the nearby fields began cultivating the hybrid variety. The insufficient gap between two fields meant cross-pollination, eventually affecting the indigenous variety.
Dongarsoni, which once had ample Kar Jondhala, is now down to the last-generation farmers cultivating it. “We can’t blame farmers for this. It’s unaffordable, and what will the world eat if the yield is so less?” asks Gulab.
. . .
We are thrilled and grateful to have collaborated with Jain through our Share Your Voice initiative, an ongoing effort inspired by the #sharethemicnow movement.
Yours in food, justice, and food justice,
Tay + Dor
Farmers Shakila and Gulab Mullani have been preserving the Kar Jondhala seeds for over 30 years. Photo of Mullani holding the seeds by Sanket Jain.
|