In the months immediately following the 2024 tragedy, reporting on the landslide per se had been a straightforward affair.
On one side was death and destruction. On the other side, survivors and the business of survival. It was black and white. What direction to take was clear.
Rehabilitation in comparison, felt like a complex situation. One that is fraught with shades of grey. As grey as human life, explains Shyam G Menon.
For the past several months, the Kerala government's quest to rehabilitate the survivors of the 2024 landslide in Wayanad has played out before the public and in the media.
Angles ranging from the alleged cold shouldering of Kerala's demand for central aid to the periodically shifting contours of the rehabilitation scheme as it got finetuned, contributed to the script.
Amidst this, some of the survivors became nervous even as the government pieced together the rehabilitation package.
Protests happened. A closer look shows, no one is wholly right or wrong here. Everyone is right and wrong.
The immediate need is for all sides to be sensitive and accommodative towards the other. Because the issue looming is bigger than one tragedy; it is the requirement to perfect the design and execution of rehabilitation schemes in our emergent era of climate change.
Past 8.30 AM on March 13, 2025; the mood in front of Kalpetta's civil station -- the office of the district collector -- was calm and composed.
Kalpetta is the administrative headquarters of Wayanad in Kerala. The small team of policemen having breakfast in the restaurant I was in, finished eating and returned to the civil station.
A while later, police barricades were lashed together before the main gate of the facility, blocking it.
A smaller entrance by the side stayed open for people to use. Life continued as normal.
For what was set to follow, had become routine in Kalpetta -- a protest by those who lost family members, houses and landholdings in the terrible landslide, which hit Chooralmala and settlements higher up, in end-July 2024.
Roughly an hour-and-a-half later, a small procession of men and women holding placards and shouting slogans reached the civil station.
They sat down in front of the main gate and given the state's revenue minister was also in town, they expressed their resolve not to leave unless they met the minister and informed him of their grievances.
"We are people who woke up from sleep one night and found they had lost everything," Naseer Alakkal, chairman of Janashabdam, the survivors' group to which the protesters belonged, said.
He reminded those gathered that because they had nothing to lose, they should not be frightened of standing up for their demands.
In some of the speeches that day, the report on the Western Ghats by Madhav Gadgil, found mention as forewarning ignored.
When it appeared, the report had split Kerala's hill community, its businesses and politics, sharply, with some arguing in support and many finding it needless interference.
After the landslides of 2024, few dispute Gadgil. Including those still missing, the official death toll in the 2024 landslide is 298.
Higher estimates continue to circulate; at the time of writing Wikipedia for instance pegged the figure at 254 dead, 387 injured and 118 missing.
A ceremony on March 27 and our times of unsteady weather
The current protests (including the one on March 13) are related to rehabilitation of the survivors. Entire settlements were lost and the area nearby, rendered unstable.
At the very least, questionable for use by humans. In four months', time, Wayanad would observe the first anniversary of the deadly landslide.
The rehabilitation scheme announced by the government is set to kickstart with the foundation stone-laying ceremony scheduled for March 27, 2025.
However, owing to several factors ranging from the high degree of politics in Kerala society to the strained relations between the state and the Centre courtesy ideologically opposed political parties being in power at either place, a degree of mistrust crept into the process.
Janashabdam -- it has members sporting various political affiliations -- finds itself in the middle.
On March 12, the day before the protest in front of the civil station, it rained in Kalpetta. Summer showers. But rain, nonetheless.
Yakub Pazhery, vice chairman of Janashabdam, said on the sidelines of the protest, "Our main worry is we want to see our rehabilitation process formally underway before the next monsoon. What if something happens somewhere else in Kerala in the next rainy season? The government's attention would be diverted that side. We would be left in the lurch."
He has a point. Before heading to Wayanad, I had met Dr Abhilash S, Director, Advanced Centre for Atmospheric Radar Research at the Cochin University of Science and Technology, for an overview of the prevalent weather patterns in Kerala.
Studies portray a changing face of the monsoon in Kerala with intense rain of the heavy to extremely heavy category during the active phase of the monsoon, followed by dry spells within the same season.
Prior to 2010, the clouds forming along the Kerala coast used to be relatively shallow, possessing a depth of five to six kilometres.
Now, during the active phase of monsoon, the clouds forming in the Southeast Arabian Sea are very thick.
They produce intense rain and cloudbursts in Kerala, especially in areas with geographical features helpful for it.
These clouds originate in the Southeast Arabian Sea, which has been getting warmer.
As a result, it is producing thicker, deeper clouds and also gifting the Indian west coast more cyclones than before.
A part of the reason for these changes is atmospheric warming due to global warming.
In earlier times, the propensity for deep clouds and heavy rain was north of Mangalore.
Now it is felt to the south of Mangalore as well, impacting north Kerala and not so much, the south.
"Kerala must adapt to these changes," Dr Abhilash said.
When he voiced anxiety about the pace of rehabilitation, Yakub may have spoken for himself, and others affected by the 2024 landslide in Wayanad.
For Kerala, the cycle Yakub is enduring, could well be representative of the future.
That is why the protests happening in Wayanad should not be ignored by the state or the Centre.
The emphasis should be on perfecting models for rehabilitation and executing them efficiently.
The list
If there is a term that captures the core reason for the protest of March 13, it would be 'the list' and it is typically the subject generating most bickering in rehabilitation schemes.
It refers to finalising the names of people eligible for rehabilitation. Everything starts with the list.
In Kalpetta, the person who has been in the hot seat, through the deadly landslide of 2024 and the subsequent efforts to rehabilitate the survivors, is District Collector D R Meghashree.
She took charge on July 10, 2024; the landslide hit on the intervening night of July 29/30. To be accurate, in the early hours of July 30.
Being collector of Wayanad in times of calamity and rehabilitation is not an easy task.
Being an integral part of the state administration, the collector is identified with the state government, which for the moment, is the Left Democratic Front (LDF), led by the Communist Party of India-Marxist.
In contrast, the member of Parliament from Wayanad is from the Congress, which is part of the political Opposition at the national and state levels.
The member of the legislative assembly from Kalpetta is from the Congress and the Congress-led United Democratic Front (UDF), which includes the Indian Union Muslim League (IUML), is known to dominate politics in Wayanad, especially when it comes to Lok Sabha polls.
Amidst this, the Bharatiya Janata Party has been slowly growing its presence in the district.
Simply put, when one functions as an extension of the state administration, one is under a scanner in Wayanad.
One is held accountable every inch of the way. It was in this ambiance that the search and rescue operations in the immediate aftermath of the disaster was done and the stage for rehabilitation was reached.
The said ambiance holds for the rehabilitation scheme currently underway as well.
Landslides are not new in Wayanad. There have been deaths, displacement of survivors and rehabilitation before.
The 2018 floods, which caused much death and destruction in Kerala, heralded the imagery of rain as a severe phenomenon in the state.
While there was indeed heavy rain then, the allegedly poor management of dams also played a role.
Scientists point to the monsoon of 2019 as the real wake-up call from the perspective of climate change because that year the intensity of rain was fierce.
"Up to July 31 that year, there was a 35 per cent deficit in rainfall. Then over August 1-6, a span of five days, it transformed from deficit to excess. Five days of rainfall compensated for the deficit accrued over two months," Dr Abhilash had said in Kochi.
On August 8, 2019, there was a landslide at Puthumala in Wayanad's Meppadi region (the locations of the 2024 landslide also fall in the vicinity of Meppadi).
According to news reports, 17 people died. In subsequent rehabilitation measures, 52 families from Puthumala were provided accommodation in a new colony built atop a small dome shaped hill at Mukkilpeedika, near Meppadi.
The houses were built by private sponsors. A visit to the colony on the morning of March 12 this year showed a dainty, well laid out settlement with proper roads and white-painted houses.
By the Mumbai standard of small houses that I am used to, they looked nice. There was one big problem.
Some of the houses leaked. The house Rukiya lived in was particularly affected.
"During rains, water seeps down the wall. At some places, it drips straight from the roof. We have to spread cloth on the floor to walk without slipping and keep buckets to collect the falling water. The buckets fill up fast. I have slipped and fallen inside the house," she said, pointing out alongside, the stains left by water on the house's white-painted walls.
She feared that electricity may leak wherever the structure was damp. The sponsor concerned had been informed.
But apparently, they were in a state of shock and embarrassment upon learning that their well-intended efforts had produced such effects.
"Many people have come and seen these walls. Taken photos. Nothing has happened by way of a solution," Rukiya said.
According to Collector Meghashree, the complaints around the rehabilitation scheme for the survivors of the Puthumala tragedy prompted the state government to undertake the rehabilitation efforts for the 2024 landslide survivors, by itself.
The government wanted to ensure quality and standardisation.
Following that decision, the government has over time, come up with three lists of which, the first is now robust and free of complaints.
This list composed of people with the highest priority (mainly those who lost their houses completely and have no other house to live in) features 242 families.
Then, there is a second list divided into two sub-groups -- 2A and 2B. The former hosted 81 families with houses within the no-go zone, who must be rehabilitated.
The latter had 70 families whose houses fall outside the no-go zone but must still be shifted because they are within 50 metres of the no-go zone (the no-go zone refers to the area declared unfit for habitation after the landslide).
At the time I met the collector in her office, the 2A and 2B lists were still being finalised.
At the same time, the government had a set of 'micro plans' to help the survivors with their livelihood and daily life.
These ranged from support in healthcare to assistance in education and livelihood (agriculture, animal husbandry and industry).
The challenge faced is in the inevitability of government processes taking time and patience depleting for the survivors.
The government is dutybound to make the list as error-free and convincing in terms of priority of candidate, as possible.
This means, a litany of checks and counter checks, submissions and appeals.
It is not just the list, even land acquisition takes time, when done by the government.
Meghashree contrasted the ease with which a private organisation bought 12.5 acres near Meppadi to settle some 100 families as its contribution to rehabilitation, with the government having to negotiate litigation and a whole host of other mandatory procedures before it takes charge of the land at Elstone Tea Estate.
For the survivors awaiting rehabilitation, time is at a premium.
Although supported by the state government (to note here is that as of 2025, Kerala has a severely cash-strapped government) with money for rent, basic allowances and grocery supplies, many of them are in debt.
Sometimes, the government support is not received; the survivor concerned informs the authorities and the matter gets investigated.
For example, rent-funds for Yakub did not arrive one month. He told the authorities, and it was resumed.
Each interruption of this sort makes those dependent on government support, nervous.
Nervous and unable to trust
In that state of mind, the survivors' worries are further fanned by data / numbers swirling around in the media and numbers they were privy to in the earlier phase of talks around rehabilitation.
Naseer for instance, told this writer of "1,024 people" initially agreed to by government for rehabilitation.
"How did that number shrink to 393?" he asked.
And when figures fluctuate so, how do you trust what else the government says? Meghashree traced the 1,000 plus figure to the 1,044 families mentioned for micro plans (basically provision of relief and sustenance) immediately after the July 2024 calamity.
This number was an amalgam of the disaster-affected and livelihood-impacted families.
At that time, she said, the government did not have the fully correct list of disaster-affected, ready.
The correct list was possible only after the no-go zone was marked.
At the same time, the government could not wait to give benefits like immediate livelihood assistance, back-to-home kits, back-to-school kits, medical aid etc.
Notwithstanding her explanation, the disparity in the numbers has come to stick in the minds of the survivors.
The thing is -- governments work by prioritising expenses and for this, it will keep fine-tuning the list of the eligible till it has an accurate, dependable list to freeze and thereafter follow.
This is normal practice for any government. However, it fails to get easily bought in Kerala because of two factors.
First, anyone used to Kerala politics and looking at these lists would quip that all parties when they are in power try to favour their people.
Even if a government does not do so, it will be suspected of such tendencies.
Second, the members of Janashabdam are aware of the contributions from well-wishers that flowed into the Chief Minister's Relief Fund in the wake of the 2024 landslide.
Naseer estimates this at around Rs 700 crore (the figure could not be separately verified).
Viewed through the prism of this figure, the survivors find many of the government's rehabilitation efforts -- from the time being taken for the new housing to materialize to the alleged shrinking of the beneficiary pool and even the design and size of proposed land and house to live in -- needlessly conservative.
They ask: The money is there, so why isn't the government spending? On the other hand, at the political level, the rehabilitation of the survivors of the 2024 landslide became a point of contention in Centre-state relations, with the Centre arguing the state had adequate funds and Kerala alleging the Centre was cold shouldering it at a time of need.
As per announcements made at the venue, local leaders of the Congress and the IUML were expected at the March 13 protest.
Among the earliest in place was the BJP. Its leader lost no time in blaming the lack of a reliable list and saying, the Centre will help if the list is ready.
Kerala is particularly challenging for rehabilitation projects because of shortage of land.
The state is among the smallest in India's big states, and it has a high density of population.
On Kalpetta's by-pass road is an estate, rather neglected in appearance from the outside, with a board declaring its name: Elstone Tea Estates Limited.
According to Meghashree, 64.5 hectares of land available at Elstone will be acquired by the government to house the rehabilitation project.
A second potential site was also spoken of earlier but that has been given up for now.
Land acquisition took time because of related litigation; the High Court ruling on the matter came through in late December 2024.
Survivors were originally promised 10 cents of land each and a house of 1000 square feet; the land component dipped to five cents and following protests, has now settled at seven cents.
It has not gone down well with Janashabdam. They want 10 cents.
Similarly, there is dissatisfaction over how an owner may manage his / her new property (what all applications it may be used for) as well as the size of monetary compensation given to those accepting payment from government in lieu of a house under the rehabilitation scheme (the monetary compensation is Rs 15 lakhs, while the cost of a house is pegged at around Rs 40 lakhs).
Meghashree pointed out that the monetary compensation, usually fixed at Rs 10 lakhs, has been raised to Rs 15 lakhs in this case and those accepting it are additionally free to seek the support of sponsors to build new houses.
"There is restriction on transfer (of the land and house given by government) to external agency or private individuals. No restriction on transfer within kith and kin. Loans can be availed; no restriction on that," she said.
Naseer on the other hand, maintained that the protestors will not give in, till the government fixes allotment at 10 cents.
He was also upset with a clause that required beneficiaries to get approval on a case-by-case basis, should they wish to hypothecate land and house to avail bank loans, for a period of 12 years.
Naseer's extended family lost 26 members in the landslide of 2024.
He used to live well, in a big house, had sizable landholding and cultivated cardamom.
Everything got washed away.
"The crop loss was compensated at the rate of Rs 6000 per acre. Is that enough?" he asked.
Meanwhile, the government has appointed KIFCON as consultants for the rehabilitation project.
The construction of the houses will be by Uralungal Labour Contract Co-operative Society Ltd (ULCCS), an agency (it is Asia's biggest labour co-operative) reputed in Kerala for completing on time, the tasks it is entrusted with.
But ULCCS is often seen as being close to Left parties. At the March 13 protest before the civil station, Shajimon Chooralmala, convenor of Janashabdam, asked why the building contract could not be given to agencies in Wayanad thus benefiting the local economy.
There were several other demands visible on Janashabdam's placards.
One placard sought restoration of rights to use land in the affected area for farming.
There were people seeking restoration of electric supply. Some others had come because they wished to see normalcy restored in areas outside the no-go zone but still having the stigma of being in the same region as the landslide hit parts.
"We have to go far to get supplies. The mobile van bringing groceries arrives just thrice a week," one of them said.
I asked Captain Vijayan (4th battalion, Madras Regiment) from Chooralmala, what the general economic profile of the landslide-affected place was at the retail level, away from the plantations it held.
He said people in the region were mostly into agriculture and animal husbandry.
That profile would likely be carried on by the displaced people to their expectations from rehabilitation as well.
It is a tough combination to meet. On the one hand, middle class people used to a certain size of landholding in their pre-landslide lives wish to see adequate bare land at their disposal.
On the other hand, in the typical Kerala milieu of house showcasing prosperity, a nice, presentable house is everyone's dream.
More than one Janashabdam member told me that given Elstone's proximity to Kalpetta and its civic amenities, some of the facilities planned within the township could be avoided to free up space.
In the months immediately following the 2024 tragedy, reporting on the landslide per se had been a straightforward affair.
On one side was death and destruction. On the other side, survivors and the business of survival. It was black and white. What direction to take was clear.
Rehabilitation in comparison, felt like a complex situation. One that is fraught with shades of grey. As grey as human life.
I called up my close friend, a journalist, who had years ago reported on the Latur earthquake in Maharashtra and the rehabilitation, which followed. "Rehabilitation is a messy affair," she said.
To Be Continued...
Shyam G Menon is a freelance journalist based in Mumbai.
Feature Presentation: Aslam Hunani/Rediff.com
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