Six years ago, farmers of drought-hit Hottal migrated to the cities to earn their livelihood. But thanks to rainwater harvesting, underground aquifers are full and they’re now growing three organic crops a year.
The village square of Hottal is a lively place. People go in and out of the farmer-producer company’s outlet to buy agricultural hardware, seeds and manure. At the gram sabha office, women from self-help groups have animated discussions about how to increase their savings. There are tea and snacks during breaks and, most importantly, plenty of water jugs keeping everyone cool.
In fields across the road, crops sway happily in the morning breeze. Guava orchards are heavy with fruits. But it wasn’t always like this.
Rewind six years ago. Hottal saw some epic migrations because nothing grew in the parched land.
Also Read | Water control is the strongest anti-poverty measure
Although the drought in Nanded district, where the village sits, was less severe than the other parts of Maharashtra’s Marathwada region, it was bad enough to force farmers to hang up their shovels and instead plough a back-breaking furrow as menial labour in Nizamabad, 83km to the east, in Telangana. Some went to Bidar, Hyderabad, and Kamareddy. Many reached Mumbai.
They worked in sugarcane fields, turmeric farms, construction sites, brick kilns, and rice mills. Some would go to Hyderabad, 150km away, to work as cooks and servers at weddings. Perched close to the Telangana and Karnataka borders, many chose Nizamabad.
One of the hundreds who left the village of 2,300-plus people to work as farm hands elsewhere was Nagnath Dasarwad, 40.
Back home, he owned a three-acre plot. Hottal had no canal irrigation, so Nagnath—like many fellow villagers – looked below his feet for hope.
But there was no groundwater to be found. Even the underground aquifers had dried out and there was no rain to replenish them.
Nagnath spent a fortune digging bore wells.
“Even after three attempts and reaching depths of 600 feet, we failed to strike water,” he said.
Also Read | Marathwada farmers harvest water in streams, reap rich yields
Then the march began to Nizamabad, a ritual he carried on for nearly a decade.
But today, Hottal is a shining example of what water conservation can do.
Nagnath returned and his farm produces three crops a year. He wasn’t the only one.
The villagers who had moved elsewhere have returned. Reverse migration. The homes are full, as are the wells.
What a turnaround, but how?
To get the answer, the go-to man is Seshrao Suryawanshi, 44, who as village sarpanch in 2016 took the lead and introduced a range of water conservation measures to turn the parched landscape into green fields.
The watershed moment came with 300 villagers removed silt from a km-long channel at the base of hillock to the west of Hottal. It took 1,200 tractors to carry the mud and silt to the fields.
The villagers ensured that the rainwater didn’t go to waste as runoff, resulting in 138.20 lakh litres of water reaching the aquifers every year
More efforts followed – like digging trenches, building gabion fortifications and stone bunds with help from the National Bank for Agriculture and Rural Development (NABARD), the government funding agency that gave an initial capital of Rs 13 lakh.
NGOs chipped in too.
Also Read | Sinnar farmers breathe life back into irrigated farming
Atlas Copco Charitable Foundation donated Rs 27 lakh and philanthropist Prakash Tandel gave Rs 10 lakh. The six-decade-old non-profit Sanskriti Samvardhan Mandal became the nodal agency assigned by NABARD to oversee the job.
All the money and villagers’ muscles led to the desilting of 52 wells. The work ensured paid labour in their own village.
“The villagers ensured that the rainwater didn’t go to waste as runoff, resulting in 138.20 lakh litres of water reaching the aquifers every year,” said Vasant Rawangaonkar, project manager of Sanskriti Samvardhan Mandal.
The available water is used judiciously.
Farmers grow three crops on 732 hectares, flowers on 22 acres and orchards make up 20 hectares of what has been wasteland.
The main crop is soybean, while papaya, custard apple and guava bring additional income. Vegetables are grown too, and sold at the nearest town Degloor, 8km away. And everything’s organic, chemical-free.
Electricity drawn mostly from solar arrays, wide roads, toilets, healthcare facilities and even a library came in the water’s wake.
Water-flowing from faucets at homes belie the reality that the region is among India’s most parched. As do 2,000 bamboo saplings planted along the waterways.
The rain-dependent village has an automated weather station and a farmer-producer company with 610 members.
With its underground aquifers recharged, Hottal is turning its attention back on its most-vaunted centrepieces – the elaborately carved basalt-stone shrines of Siddheshwar, Someshwar, Parvati and Parameshwar, which date back to the 11th and 12th centuries, built by the Chalukya kings.
“The Siddheshwar temple has 42 apsaras in dancing poses,” said historian Maroti Shinde.
Also Read | Droughts, floods, and suicides: What Bihar can teach Maharashtra and other states
Tourism is catching on and “Hottal Utsav” is a fixture these days.
“The festival held in January had over 10,000 visitors,” said Suryawanshi, who – like most villagers – speaks Marathi as well as Telugu and Kannada thanks to their geography.
With this rosy outlook, many villagers dream of adding tourism offerings to their bouquet.
The lead image at the top shows watershed measures being taken in the villages of Nanded (Photo by Hiren Kumar Bose)
Hiren Kumar Bose is a journalist based in Thane, Maharashtra. He doubles up as a weekend farmer.
