Supriya Sharma
June 12th 2011
KONTA (DANTEWADA): Every Monday, a cavalcade of bullock carts crosses over from Andhra Pradesh into Chhattisgarh, bumping along a forest path, carrying soap, oil, rice and traders. They set up makeshift shops in Kishtaram, a village deep inside Dantewada. The soap often remains unsold, but within three hours, the rice is usually exhausted.
"Thirty quintals are sold, on an average at Rs 14 a kilo," says Nageshwar Rao, a trader. Isn't that a lot for a village in Chhattisgarh where the government provides 35kg of rice at Rs 2 a kg per family? Rao gives a wry smile. "You know the truth, don't you?"
It seems everyone does, and has for a while. Chhattisgarh takes great pride in its PDS system. After a slew of reforms since 2004, it is seen as among the best in the country. The poor get cheap rice, village-level institutions like panchayats and co-operatives run the shops.
But normal rules don't apply to conflict-affected Dantewada. Here, in Konta, the district's biggest block, as big as the state of Goa, one man has nearly monopolised both the distribution and transport of PDS rice. For the last five years, he has allegedly diverted a big portion of grain to markets in Orissa and Andhra, selling it illegally, depriving the poor of grain.
While the diversion is hard to prove, his monopoly was busted when a team travelled to Konta recently to investigate allegations of corruption.
The visit was triggered by the events of March: homes and granaries in three villages were torched, allegedly by the police. The Supreme Court asked social activist Harsh Mander to visit the affected villages. The state government sent food secretary Vivek Dhand to accompany him. Mander found "people living with starvation, in conditions of great penury and destitution". Dhand was inundated with complaints of corruption in PDS.
Dhand sent Rajiv Jaiswal, joint director of the state food corporation, on a fact finding mission. He travelled with Samir Garg, advisor to the Supreme Court on food schemes.
They came back with stunning findings: Of 61 shops in Konta, 41 were being run by just one marketing society. It was also transporting the grain. "To give the agency that runs the shop the job of transporting the grains is a clear violation of rules," Jaiswal noted in his report to the secretary.
In the first week of May, the secretary wrote to the collector of Dantewada: "Barring three shops, cancel the allocation of all other shops being run by the marketing society. Cancel its transport job, give it to a transporter selected by the food corporation."
A month later, the order is yet to be implemented. "Shiva Soni is a powerful man," explains a local journalist. Soni is the head of Konta Marketing society.
A resident of Raipur, he moved to Konta in 2006 when violence had ripped it apart and thousands had been moved into Salwa Judum camps. "The government decreed that rice would be given free to all," recalls Kavasi Lakhma, the Congress MLA. "That's when Soni floated a fake marketing society. In those chaotic days, no one stood and counted how many people were in the camps and how much grain was being distributed. It was easy to fudge figures, make a fortune and share the spoils with Judum leaders, the police, and administration," said Lakhma.
"I think my work should be seen as social service," says Soni, denying the allegations. "It is not easy to work in a conflict area."
But Lakhma claims it is precisely the conflict that keeps corrupt traders like Soni in business. As Jaiswal's report states, 61 shops, meant to be located in 61 different panchayats, are currently being run from just 16 locations, mostly inside Salwa Judum camps. "With villagers living far away, the shops function without any scrutiny," says Samir Garg, advisor to the Supreme Court. "No wants wants to relocate them since everyone had a vested interest," says Lakhma.
Except the adivasis. If Madavi Singa wishes to collect his quota of cheap rice, he must walk 45km to Maraiguda camp, where the Kishtaram ration shop is located. Those living in Nimmalguda village must walk even further, a distance of 60km. "No one does it," says Singa. Instead, the poor adivasis buy food from Andhra traders at higher prices. Meanwhile, on paper, Kishtaram ration shop continues to distribute hundreds of quintals of cheap rice each month.
While Kishtaram may be an extreme case, elsewhere in Konta, people said they were getting rations just once in two months.
The total allocation of rice to Konta in 2010-11 was approximately 93,000 quintals. At a conservative Rs 1,200 a quintal, it is worth Rs 11 crore. Soni's society controls two-thirds of the shops, and all the transport. Just how much money does he and the others make? It's anybody's guess.
"Thirty quintals are sold, on an average at Rs 14 a kilo," says Nageshwar Rao, a trader. Isn't that a lot for a village in Chhattisgarh where the government provides 35kg of rice at Rs 2 a kg per family? Rao gives a wry smile. "You know the truth, don't you?"
It seems everyone does, and has for a while. Chhattisgarh takes great pride in its PDS system. After a slew of reforms since 2004, it is seen as among the best in the country. The poor get cheap rice, village-level institutions like panchayats and co-operatives run the shops.
But normal rules don't apply to conflict-affected Dantewada. Here, in Konta, the district's biggest block, as big as the state of Goa, one man has nearly monopolised both the distribution and transport of PDS rice. For the last five years, he has allegedly diverted a big portion of grain to markets in Orissa and Andhra, selling it illegally, depriving the poor of grain.
While the diversion is hard to prove, his monopoly was busted when a team travelled to Konta recently to investigate allegations of corruption.
The visit was triggered by the events of March: homes and granaries in three villages were torched, allegedly by the police. The Supreme Court asked social activist Harsh Mander to visit the affected villages. The state government sent food secretary Vivek Dhand to accompany him. Mander found "people living with starvation, in conditions of great penury and destitution". Dhand was inundated with complaints of corruption in PDS.
Dhand sent Rajiv Jaiswal, joint director of the state food corporation, on a fact finding mission. He travelled with Samir Garg, advisor to the Supreme Court on food schemes.
They came back with stunning findings: Of 61 shops in Konta, 41 were being run by just one marketing society. It was also transporting the grain. "To give the agency that runs the shop the job of transporting the grains is a clear violation of rules," Jaiswal noted in his report to the secretary.
In the first week of May, the secretary wrote to the collector of Dantewada: "Barring three shops, cancel the allocation of all other shops being run by the marketing society. Cancel its transport job, give it to a transporter selected by the food corporation."
A month later, the order is yet to be implemented. "Shiva Soni is a powerful man," explains a local journalist. Soni is the head of Konta Marketing society.
A resident of Raipur, he moved to Konta in 2006 when violence had ripped it apart and thousands had been moved into Salwa Judum camps. "The government decreed that rice would be given free to all," recalls Kavasi Lakhma, the Congress MLA. "That's when Soni floated a fake marketing society. In those chaotic days, no one stood and counted how many people were in the camps and how much grain was being distributed. It was easy to fudge figures, make a fortune and share the spoils with Judum leaders, the police, and administration," said Lakhma.
"I think my work should be seen as social service," says Soni, denying the allegations. "It is not easy to work in a conflict area."
But Lakhma claims it is precisely the conflict that keeps corrupt traders like Soni in business. As Jaiswal's report states, 61 shops, meant to be located in 61 different panchayats, are currently being run from just 16 locations, mostly inside Salwa Judum camps. "With villagers living far away, the shops function without any scrutiny," says Samir Garg, advisor to the Supreme Court. "No wants wants to relocate them since everyone had a vested interest," says Lakhma.
Except the adivasis. If Madavi Singa wishes to collect his quota of cheap rice, he must walk 45km to Maraiguda camp, where the Kishtaram ration shop is located. Those living in Nimmalguda village must walk even further, a distance of 60km. "No one does it," says Singa. Instead, the poor adivasis buy food from Andhra traders at higher prices. Meanwhile, on paper, Kishtaram ration shop continues to distribute hundreds of quintals of cheap rice each month.
While Kishtaram may be an extreme case, elsewhere in Konta, people said they were getting rations just once in two months.
The total allocation of rice to Konta in 2010-11 was approximately 93,000 quintals. At a conservative Rs 1,200 a quintal, it is worth Rs 11 crore. Soni's society controls two-thirds of the shops, and all the transport. Just how much money does he and the others make? It's anybody's guess.
