
ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

Following rampant deforestation in Odisha and Jharkhand during the late 1980s, elephants began migrating into Chhattisgarh, initially crossing from undivided Bihar in 1988 and settling more permanently after 1995. Today, around 275–320 elephants reside in the state, particularly in the districts of Raigarh, Korba, Jashpur, and Surguja—areas that also form the heart of India’s coal belt. Here, vast tracts of forest have been diverted for open-cast coal mining, and elephants, deprived of fodder, frequently raid crop fields, triggering a deadly cycle of human-elephant conflict. Since 2002, at least 800 people and 157 elephants have died in such encounters, with an average of 65 human and 14 elephant deaths annually. The state government spends crores of rupees on compensation—₹58 crores between 2019 and 2021 alone—yet victims often wait for years as inspections demand land records and photographs, documents many small farmers cannot readily produce. The conflict unfolds against a larger story: Chhattisgarh, where tribals form 32% of the population, holds 16% of India’s coal deposits, producing nearly 18% of the country’s output. The mining boom has devastated livelihoods, forests, and water sources, while rehabilitation promises from companies are rarely fulfilled. Korba, known as the “power capital of India,” illustrates this paradox. It hosts 13 large coal mines, including the Gevra mine—the largest open-cast mine in the country with a capacity of 45 MTPA—and numerous thermal power plants that together generate 3,650 MW of electricity. Yet, the district ranks among India’s most critically polluted areas, with local estimates suggesting that 12% of its population suffers from asthma and bronchitis due to coal dust and fly ash. In Raigarh and other districts, water tables have collapsed, and pollution has rendered surface and groundwater largely unusable, leaving at least 90 of 116 villages in Tamnar block in crisis. A 2017 survey in Sarasmal revealed that 87% of villagers near coal mines suffered chronic ailments—skin conditions, respiratory illness, hair loss, and joint pain. The decline of Mahua trees, vital for local liquor and medicine, and Tendu patta, crucial for the beedi industry, has stripped tribal communities of their traditional livelihoods, as more than half of these trees have disappeared under the assault of mining and deforestation.
For both humans and elephants, the destruction of Chhattisgarh’s forests is a story of displacement and broken homes. The Lemru elephant reserve in Korba district was first proposed in 2005 to reduce conflict, covering 450 sq. km, but was shelved in 2008 under pressure to safeguard coal production estimated at 40 million tonnes per year. Activists alleged that industry lobbies outweighed ecological concerns. Revived in 2019, the reserve was expanded to 1,995 sq. km, reflecting the urgency of conserving elephant habitats. Yet, the battle between coal and conservation remains unresolved. I first encountered the forests of Chhattisgarh in 2013, when what struck me most was the harmony between humans, flora, and fauna—a sense of balance and reciprocity that felt sacred. Today, that balance has been fractured by unchecked industrial expansion. For tribals, the encroachment is not just about land acquisition; it is the invasion of privacy, dignity, and livelihoods, leaving them trapped in cycles of poverty and illness. For elephants, it is the erasure of ancient corridors and feeding grounds, forcing them into hostile encounters with humans. At its core, a home—whether for an elephant herd or a tribal family—is more than a physical shelter; it is a guarantee of security and belonging. In Chhattisgarh, this sense of permanence has been steadily eroded by the relentless march of coal mining, where the true cost of India’s electricity is borne by those with the least power to resist—forests razed, rivers polluted, people sickened, and elephants killed. Development here is not just reshaping landscapes; it is dismantling lives, and with every passing year, the fragile equilibrium between people, animals, and nature slips further out of reach.












































