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Gaur Hari Parua, a farmer at Ghoramara Island, pictured at his rebuilt house which had collapsed due to Cyclone Amphan. Photo: Namrata Acharya

As India’s Ghoramara island shrinks, so do residents’ hope for the future

  • The island has been eroding for decades due in part to climate change, and is expected to vanish by 2050
  • Covid-19 and Cyclone Amphan have worsened the fates of the island’s last 3,000 residents, who have nowhere to go
India

Gaur Hari Parua, a farmer on the tiny Indian island of Ghoramara, remembers the days when the northern parts of the land stretched as far as the eye could see.

“There were houses, open fields and stretches of farmlands,” said Parua, who has lived on the island in the Sundarban delta region for the past 40 years. “It all disappeared one by one.”

With an area of about 5 square kilometres, Ghoramara is only a fraction larger than New York’s Central Park. Massive erosion driven by rising sea levels has caused the land to shrink by three-quarters of its original size since the 1960s, according to figures by a UN agency, and poor infrastructure in recent decades has compounded those effects.

A steeply eroded riverfront in the north of Ghoramara Island. Photo: Namrata Acharya

The island is expected to vanish completely in a few decades, forcing out the 3,000 people who continue to call Ghoramara home, long after almost 40,000 others have fled.

Due to climate change, waters of the Bay of Bengal have been rising up to twice as fast as the global average at about 4.4 to 6.3 millimetres a year, a 2018 study by climate physicist Chirag Dhara showed.

Already, four islands in the region – Bedford, Lohachara, Kabasgadi and Suparibhanga – have disappeared over the past three decades, the WWF said in a 2008 report.

The island ... is witnessing a continuous exodus of people as lives and livelihoods are under peril
Sugata Hazra, expert

Sugata Hazra, a professor at Jadavpur University’s School of Oceanographic Studies, said Ghoramara may be gone by 2050.

His calculations were based on the Sea Level Affecting Marshes Model, a mathematical framework that assesses the potential impacts of long-term sea-level rise on wetlands and shore lines.

“The island is in a very precarious state. It is witnessing a continuous exodus of people as lives and livelihoods are under peril,” he said.

The exterior of the Mud Point Post Office in Ghoramara. Photo: Namrata Acharya

VANISHING HISTORY

When Ghoramara disappears, so will a slice of the region’s history. 

Just three government buildings remain on the island, including the Mud Point Post Office, which was established in 1853 to relay telegrams on storms and pirate attacks to the British establishment in Kolkata, about 90km away.

As the second telegram office to be built in West Bengal state, it was the centre of postal activity in its heyday. But as telegrams and letters lost their significance over the years, the building now represents a bygone era.

A worker at the Mud Point Post Office in Ghoramara. Photo: Namrata Acharya

Still, the Mud Point Post Office remains important to residents, as it is not only one of the few spots that catches mobile phone signals at Ghoramara – but also has the only computer with an internet connection on the island, which is switched on just once a day with a power generator. 

There is no electricity connection on the island and all houses are lit by solar lights.

The two other government buildings are a primary health care centre and a school. The rest have been consumed by the rising waters.

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But while the rise in sea levels is a main reason for the rapid erosion of Ghoramara, man-made causes have precipitated it.

Locals have witnessed particularly severe erosion in northern areas, caused by incomplete anti-erosion projects in the southern and western fringes of Ghoramara, said Parua the farmer. The abandoned embankment work was leading to an increased water flow to the east and north of the island, he added.

A new shipping route created to ease passage between the south of Ghoramara and the neighbouring island of Nayachar further exacerbated matters, said Hazra, the professor.

“Embankments have somewhat checked erosion in the western and southern end of the island,” he said. “However, the northern part of the island is breaking very fast. This has also been aggravated by the movement of ships in that route.”

Embankments seen on the southern shore of Ghoramara. Photo: Namrata Acharya

Sanjeev Sagar, Ghoramara’s village council chief, said residents began seeing problems as soon as the new passage was opened. 

“The day the new shipping route was created, the northern and eastern part of the island started breaking in massive proportions,” he said.

According to a senior government official who spoke on condition of anonymity, efforts to preserve Ghoramara had been abandoned because they did not pass cost-benefit requirements.

Sagar acknowledged that while concrete walls could be built across all the shores in Ghoramara to slow erosion, they would not stand the test of time.

“The breakage is due to natural reasons,” he said. “With concrete, we can save the island [for a while]. But the nature of the soil here is such that nothing can hold it for a long term.”

A boat on a steeply eroded riverfront in the north of Ghoramara. Photo: Namrata Acharya

Mangrove plantations are believed to be the easiest way to protect islands as the roots of mangroves stitch the land together. But in Ghoramara, this strategy had failed as even the cohesive strength of the mangroves was no match for the strong waves.

While there is little point salvaging Ghoramara, even efforts to slow down erosion have been given up. The unbanked shores of Ghoramara are now left bare to be washed away by the tides.

“I believe if the government doesn’t give up, the island can still be sustained between 25 to 50 years,” Sagar said.

A betel leaf farm at Ghoramara. The leaves have withered due to a disease caused by saline water intrusion. Photo: Namrata Acharya

‘LEFT WITH NOTHING’

Meanwhile, disappearing land isn’t the only issue Ghoramara’s residents are facing.

The island was last year ravaged by Cyclone Amphan, which lashed the region with wind speeds as high as 260 kilometres per hour. 

Jelal Khan, a betel leaf farmer, remembers the devastation vividly. In the morning after the storm, all he saw was an inundated field and leaves that had turned into marsh.

“All my hard work was dashed in one night,” said Khan, who had invested his life savings of 100,000 rupees (US$1,360) in his farm. “Now, I am left with nothing marooned on this island.”

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In Ghoramara, shrinking land space has prompted an exodus of young men to other states in the west and south of India, where they worked in factories. For those who remained, betel leaf cultivation has been the main source of livelihood.

But after Amphan, even this suffered a setback as the fields turned saline from seawater intrusion. Most betel leaf farms became infected by a fungal disease that left dark spots on the leaves.

“Once infected with the fungus, which is like a cancer of the plant, the betel leaves start getting rotten,” said farmer Ajit Pramanik. “The disease takes about two to three years to clear up. Nearly 70 per cent of farms were destroyed. Farmers incurred heavy loss and many have been left with no livelihoods.” 

Steep erosion seen in the northern part of Ghoramara Island. Photo: Namrata Acharya

Amphan was a double blow to the people of Ghoramara, already distressed by the Covid-19 pandemic which broke out in India in January last year.

The country has in recent months been battling a ferocious new wave of coronavirus infections, recording 25 million total cases this week and more than 283,000 deaths. The pandemic has prompted many migrant workers to return to their hometowns as economic activity stalls in major cities.

Those returning home face having no income for months on end. The only source of sustenance for a majority of people are government subsidies for food rations.

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Residents in Ghoramara are demanding a rehabilitation package from the government, given the already grim fate of the island pre-Covid.

“We hope that the government wakes up to the acute distress in the island,” Khan said. “If the government cannot do anything to save the island, they should provide some alternative dwelling for us.”

Between 1964 and 2006, the West Bengal state government had offered rehabilitation to environment refugees in the Sundarbans across five refugee colonies in Sagar island, one of the biggest islands in the region.

More than 20,000 tidal refugees have moved there, according to a 2008 report by the West Bengal authorities. However, Sagar itself faces the same fate.

A sign outside the Mud Point Post Office. Photo: Namrata Acharya

“Sagar Island is also breaking and there is not enough space for rehabilitation,” said Sagar, Ghoramara’s village council head. “We are not yet able to locate a place for rehabilitating so many people.”

The irony is not likely lost on the island’s residents. Ghoramara was among the first few islands to be inhabited in the Sundarban region, growing out of the refugees from nearby areas.

As rising sea levels continue swallowing lands and displacing residents across the Sundarbans, the Mud Point Post Office and other significant relics look set to become a footnote in history.

 



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