Shantarami Chaudhary, 37, resides in Gadhawa Rural Municipality in Dang district.
The Tharu people of Nepal traditionally live in joint families, sharing houses, livestock, and land; that has been passed down for generations. Shantarami Chaudhary’s family was one such example. They lived togetherwith 25 members from five siblings. As it was only 0.047 hectares, It wasn’t enough to support such a large family. Ultimately, three brothers tried to make it work, but the other two had to find small plots of land nearby. It was hard to live on such a small piece of land.
The lack of land hindered Shantarami’s passion for raising goats and pigs. While land is essential for growing crops, it’s equally important for raising livestock. She explained, “You can’t just have passion for animals without land. It provides grazing space and natural fertilizers (compost and biopesticide) for crops. Leasing land for grazing is pointless without a place to build barns and shelters.”
Limited to farm work, Shantarami and her husband Jallu Chaudhary faced a brutal struggle. Their confined living conditions offered little comfort, and food security was a constant worry. Desperate, Shantarami became a bonded laborer, earning a meager NPR. 2,000 and a single pair of clothes per year. Her husband toiled on other farms as a wage laborer, but their combined income barely fed their family of four.
Despite having two young children, their meals were barely enough. Jallu, struggling to make ends meet, bought the rice at the cheapest price. Shantarami described their hardship with a heavy heart, saying, “Families typically adjust portions based on age, but for us, it was the same meager amount, regardless of hunger. Our sorrow and hardships were our only companions at mealtimes.” Working as a bonded laborer offered little solace either. Shantarami often had to settle for stale rice to satisfy her hunger. The irony wasn’t lost on her – a descendant of farmers, yet landless themselves. Their only option was to toil on someone else’s land, just to survive.
Shantarami’s life has transformed. Her once-empty storage containers (made of bamboo to store crops/grains) are now full of crops – a bounty of paddy rice, wheat, and corn. Once, the hands used to gather grain from the landlord’s field are now busy drying their harvest. Shantarami remembers longing for the day she’d have a full Bhakari (container), and her drying harvest. Today, that dream is a reality. “Our crops of paddy rice, corn, and wheat are flourishing,” she beams. ” Once the grains and crops are enough for our family, we sell the surplus and store some for later.”
Shantarami’s joy extends far beyond her filled containers of grains. Her heart brims with happiness. Rice, corn, wheat, and a vibrant vegetable garden have transformed her kitchen. The extra vegetables find a ready market at Lamahi bazaar and nearby villages. She even raises goats and pigs now. Recalling the past, she says, “I used to worry about raising my children without even a single grain of rice. Goats and pigs seemed like a distant dream. But now, thanks to this 0.5 hectares of nadi ukas (riverbed) land, everything is different. Our hard work has paid off, and raising livestock is finally possible.”
The nadi ukas land became a lifeline for Shantarami’s family. It provided more than just food security; it opened doors she never thought possible. Educating her children was once a distant dream. Today, through the income from selling grains, livestock, and poultry raised on this land, her children are receiving quality education at school. “We never dared to dream of sending them to school,” Shantarami reflects. “Now, the land allows us to not only afford their education but also cover our health expenses somewhat. Without this land, what would our future hold?”
Shantarami wasn’t alone. In 2018, she joined forces with 26 other farmers. Together, they saw potential in the neglected river terrace land along the Rapti River. Through years of dedicated work and regular plowing, they transformed the barren sand into fertile soil. It was a six-year journey, but their perseverance paid off. Today, this land they brought back to life is their lifeline – a productive hub that sustains their livelihoods.
