The Accidental Activist - Nothing Left to Lose
Venita Coelho
The SMS had been doing the rounds of the GBA list for a week. Everyone was
invited to show solidarity at the protest against mining planned at Colomb,
in Quepem, at a mine operated by the Timblos. This is a village that is
designated to simply disappear. The entire area of the village has been
marked out for mining leases and the villagers are fighting a desperate
battle for survival.
I expected hundreds of protesters but arrived to find only the villagers -
and a handful of other people. Despite the shocking lack of support, the
villagers were determined to go through with the protest. Just before their
rice crop was ready for harvesting, the mining companies had released slurry
that invaded their fields. They had watched their livelihood for the year
shrivel and die. Their water had dried up. Their fields were ruined. They
were desperate. And now they knew they were really alone in their fight.
Dr Adhyut Prabhudesai did a hurried conference and the villagers decided
that they were going to go up to the mine. No matter what happened they were
going to stay non violent. 'What if the police come?' I asked. No one had a
coherent plan. A writer who had turned up had brought with him the NDTV crew
who were in town to do stories on Goa. The police were unlikely to do
anything violent while the camera crew was around - that was the only
protection the protestors had.
We drove towards the mine through lush green forest. Suddenly we heard the
sound of huge machines groaning. All we could still see was greenery, but we
were hearing the sound of the excavators. Up a small path - and we were
suddenly looking at a gaping gash in the earth. This was an area clearly
marked as forest in the Savant Satapurkar report. One glance confirmed it.
On either side stretched lush virgin green. And the mine gaped - raw, red
and bare. The company claimed that it was completely legal.
The officials of the mine came out to argue with the protesters. They
claimed they were innocent of all charges - and had the papers to prove it.
People who have lost their livelihood are not interested in papers. They
refused to leave. Locals who had been provided with trucks by the mining
company began to argue with the villagers. Tempers rose. The police arrived.
Resident and anti-mining activist Rama Velip produced his map showing the
area as forest. The Officer in charge said that he was merely here to
maintain law and order. That the mine was possibly illegal was not his area
of jurisdiction. He kept a wary eye on the NDTV crew and announced that he
was sending for the Mamlatdar.
The protesters squatted in the blazing sun of noon. I tried to convince them
that getting arrested would get them no where. No one was willing to listen.
They had done everything they could over the last four years, knocked on
every official door, gone to court, fought a law abiding battle in every
way. The loss of their crop had for them been the final push that took them
over the line. Now they had nothing left to lose. One of the villagers asked
me 'Why has no one come? Doesn't the rest of Goa care? Are they just going
to let Goans die of starvation?' I had no answers.
The Timblos have hired a former editor of a Goan paper as their spin doctor.
He hovered around trying to smooth things out. So efficiently did he do his
job that the only other TV crew present was Prudent Media - also owned by
the Timblos. The next morning all the papers carried the news of the
arrests. Not a single one mentioned the name Timblo, or their company
Fomento, in connection with the operation of the mine.
The NDTV crew left. No sooner had they gone than police vans began arriving.
They had been waiting for the signal. Seventy-three activists were
immediately arrested for trespassing.
The irony was immense. The mine sat in the middle of an area that was
forest. More mining leases had given away most of the area of the village
without any thought for the people who had lived there for generations. The
relentless search for big profits in mining had trespassed on the lives of
hundreds of people with impunity.
The police chose to drive the protesters to the station through a secluded
route that went straight through the mining area. For more than half an hour
the jeeps trundled through a nightmare landscape of pitted red earth,
totally denuded of any scrap of green.
One of the activists asked the Police officer who was in the jeep with her
'What is this?' He replied 'This, madam, is hell.' (ENDS)
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The above article appeared in the November 24, 2008 edition of the Herald,
Goa
