In Odisha, Thengapalli women offer a vital model for sustainability: they guard the forest and pass leadership to their daughters to protect the future
By Annapurna Pandey
A visit to Gunduribadi
On 8th January 2025, Bhagyalaxmi Biswal of Vasundhara (an NGO working on Indigenous Land rights) and I arrived in Gunduribadi, a village of about 98 families of Kondhs and Dalits, in Nayagarh district, Odisha. Chheta Pradhan, the President of the local Thengapalli group, greeted us with a smile that matched the one on her mother-in-law, a veteran warrior of the forest, now in her 80s.
We walked through rows of mud and thatch houses. Women were drying freshly harvested paddy on the path to prepare parboiled rice for the year.
A group of animated women in colorful saris welcomed me at a makeshift one-room community hall to describe how they guard the forests around Ma Mani Nag (Jewel of the Cobra) of the Hill Range, against threats from loggers, developers, and forest officials. The women call their hills and jungle ‘Ma,’ a term that refers to both mother and father. These women are climate heroes, whose motto is to protect the forest which gives them sustenance, livelihoods, and identity.
The Thengapalli women
In 212 Odisha villages, women observe ‘thengapalli’ to safeguard their trees and forest resources from outsiders. Thengapalli translates to ‘thenga,’ (sticks), and ‘palli,’ (turn.) In groups of four to six, they patrol the forest in three shifts; one group leave their sticks at a neighbor’s door to take their turn. When asked how it works, the women said, “It is very simple. We go by trust”.
Ma Mani Nag Hill is known for its expensive sal, Piasal (Indian Kino), and sagwan (teak wood), among other rare trees. Sal and Siali leaves are very valuable to the villagers. Women collect the fallen leaves, dry them, and make leaf plates widely used for feasts and festivals. Every morning, women go to the forest to collect leaves, a variety of potatoes, greens, and vegetables from the wild. Fruits like mangoes and jackfruits are abundant. Instead of chopping down trees, they collect dry wood for fuel and plant new ones to protect the forest.
A partnership to protect the forest
I learned that community forest protection in this area started in the 1970s, led by men. In the 1990s, the forests were dwindling, hills were barren, and men in the villages in charge of the community forest were fighting each other for their vested interests. The loggers and foresters were devastating the jungle, stealing expensive wood, pilfering forest resources, and depriving the villagers of ttheir means of food and livelihood.
In a unique partnership, Kondh women joined with Dalits and neighbors from other castes to protect their forest. They established a federation, Ma Mani Nag Jungle Surakshya Parishad (Forest Protection Council), led today Pratima Jena, a woman from Darpanarayanpur village. These women are united as Thengapalli to protect the forest, and keep the food chain thriving, so the next generation inherits an environment that remains integral to their heritage and identity. These women earned community forest rights (CFR) to their forest under the 2006 Forest Rights Act.
Battles for livelihood
The women say that their life revolves around trees and the forests. At Gunduribadi village, they described a recent triumph following the discovery of a colossal teakwood tree chopped into logs on a rainy December morning. The women informed the villagers and guarded the logs.
When the forest rangers came to collect the logs, women demanded to meet the culprits. Chetta says, “There is no thief without the forest official. They collaborate on destroying the forest.” The women would not release the wood and insisted that the chopped logs belonged to the village and the offenders be made accountable publicly.
According to the villagers, a young Adivasi ranger rudely demanded to know why they were possessive about the wood, asking Ujjal, an older Thengapalli woman, ” Have you nurtured this teak with your urine?” Ujjal stood firm. “The wood belongs to our forest; it is ours,” she responded, and eventually the forest rangers realized that the non-literate women were not about to give in. They returned the logs to the village and the loggers publicly apologized.
Gifts of the forest
The Thengapalli women have created awareness that the forest is sacred. It’s a source of food and the rain brings in a good harvest. If the forest is depleted, the food chain is lost, and if Ma Mani Nag Hills is deforested, the villagers will lose both their livelihood and identity.
During COVID-19, the villagers took pride in the fact that there wasn’t a single death in the village. They did not let outsiders into their neighborhoods and survived off the hills and forest.
The Thengapalli women are inspired by a unique role model – an androgynous goddess called Kalia Sandha (Black Bull) whom they revere as their mentor and companion for protecting them and their jungle. In addition, the women seek the blessings of the divine entities Bagha Devi (Tiger goddess), Jhara dei (spring goddess), and Ghoda dei (horse goddess) to safeguard them from injustice.
Taking on the government
However, women continue to face challenges from developers and forest officials. Attempts have been made to take over the autonomy of their land and forest.
One developer proposed installing a crusher machine next to the village primary school, promising feasts and gifts if the villagers would run the unit. The women realized the dust from crushing stones would stunt the growth of their trees, and the deafening noise would impact health and their children’s education.
Bhagyalaxmi Biswal of Vasundhara helped the women write a petition demanding withdrawal of the crusher to the state Education, Health, and Environment departments, and copied the chief minister. Despite an earlier permit from the state government, the developer had to withdraw the venture – a significant victory for the Thengapalli women who were thrilled to have saved their village from concrete pollution.
The forest department also pressures the villagers to introduce Vana Sarakhyana Samiti (VSS) as part of the Odisha Forestry Sector Development Project to share forest produce and split the profits between the state and the villagers. But the women know that if the forest department takes over the preservation of the forest, their jungle and Ma Mani Nag hills will be stripped and lost to modernity, as has happened in several other states.
A helping hand
With limited material resources, however, the women struggle to support their families. They earn, for example, only $1 for 100 Khali (leaf plates) handwoven from Sal and Siali leaves. Learning about their story, a well-wisher, Prof. Debendra Das, Professor Emeritus at the University of Alaska, offered to pay $600 – half of the cost of a machine that could increase their production and multiply their earnings. A non-profit, the South Asia Study Initiative made up the difference. I took the new machine as a gift to the village women. They were ecstatic. They could now earn $3 for every 100 plates they made.
“I made 200 plates in one hour,” says Chetta. “My children have become experts in making the plates and bowls.” They hope for support to obtain equipment to process cashews and make tea cups.
The Thengapalli women offer a vital model for sustainability. They protect the forest and pass leadership to their daughters who take the tradition to neighboring villages where they begin new married lives. Their children learn the value of the forest from their elders. All village residents, whether they are Dalits, Kandhas, or from other communities, live in harmony irrespective of caste or tribe, working together to protect their environment and honoring the androgynous divine power of the forest that ensures their well-being.
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Dr. Annapurna Devi Pandey teaches Cultural Anthropology at the University of California, Santa Cruz. She was born and brought up in Cuttack, Odisha. She taught for eight years at Ravenshaw College, now University, Cuttack, before attending Cambridge University in 1988. She moved to Santa Cruz in 1989.
Courtesy: India Currents (Posted on March 17, 2025)
