LocationsBy Sweta Mishra and Binay Dash
The village of Barabuli, in Odisha’s Kalahandi district, is surrounded by a forest that hums with life. Sal, mango, mahua, and custard apple trees stretch across the hills. At dawn, the call of peacocks and wild parrots rises from the canopy. The people of Barabuli, members of the Kutia Kondh tribe - a Particularly Vulnerable Tribal Group (a classification within the Scheduled Tribes of India, established to identify and support tribal communities that are more vulnerable than others) - have always relied on the forest. It has been their market, their medicine cabinet, their source of food.
For generations, the forest provided. Families gathered mushrooms, mahua flowers, and tamarind. They wove siali leaves into plates and harvested yams from the earth. But the land they cultivated, the very ground on which they built their lives, never truly belonged to them—not in the eyes of the law.
Basanti Majhi understood this deeply. Her family’s 2.63-acre plot had been passed down through generations, but without legal ownership, it was precarious. She and her husband, Karna, worked the land, growing paddy, maize, and black gram, but soil erosion and uncertainty loomed over each harvest. They were farmers without security, their future tethered to forces beyond their control.
Then came the Forest Rights Act - a significant piece of legislation in India aimed at addressing historical injustices faced by forest-dwelling communities.
In Odisha, nearly half a million titles have been distributed, covering more than 1.15 million acres of forest land. UNDP has worked closely with the state government to implement FRA. Guidelines and SOPs were created and capacities built of implementing officers, ST-elected reps, Gram Sabha members and government officials. UNDP supported the establishment of FRA Cells and digital platforms to monitor progress. Communities were engaged directly, empowered to navigate the complex machinery of rights and recognition.
In 2020, with the support of the Kutia Kandha Development Agency - an institution established to support the Kutia Kondh community - and local civil society groups, Barabuli’s villagers gathered to discuss their rights. They formed a Forest Rights Committee, and Basanti, determined and clear-eyed, submitted her claim. The process was slow, deliberate—government officials conducted inquiries, verified records, and traced histories. Finally, in December 2023, she received the land title. It was, in the strictest sense, just a document. But to Basanti, it was the difference between uncertainty and a future.
She wasted no time. With support from local organizations, she restored her land—levelling it, replenishing the soil. She experimented with new crops: pigeon pea, brinjal, and, unexpectedly, strawberries. With training and inputs from KKDA—drip irrigation, saplings, guidance—she cultivated a small plot. The results were astonishing. Her first strawberry harvest brought in ₹80,000 (928 USD) through collective marketing. Brinjal added another ₹15,000 (174 USD). Her pigeon pea crop yielded 80 kilograms.
For Basanti, the numbers were life-changing, but the real shift was in the air around her. Barabuli was changing. The villagers, long accustomed to eking out an existence on forest produce and occasional agricultural work, saw what was possible when the land was truly theirs. With legal security, they could plan, invest, and grow. The state administration took notice. In December 2023, Basanti and Karna were invited to New Delhi, honoured by the Hon’ble President of India, Droupadi Murmu, for their role in transforming tribal livelihoods.
The forest that had sustained Barabuli for generations was no longer just a source of survival—it was a foundation for the future. The land that had once been cultivated in the shadows could now be farmed freely, without fear. And in the fields where mahua trees watched over the village, strawberries bloomed.
