Gumin Tayeng, aged around 65, is an elected Zila Parishad member and chairman of the Kotgahgorah Community Reserve Committee in Arunachal Pradesh. He recounts his first hunting expedition, accompanied by his father. The village was preparing for Ampi Kiruk, a prominent hunting festival for the Adi people. For Gumin, it was the perfect occasion for his initiation into adulthood. Every able-bodied man of his village gathered to traverse the remote hills of what is now Mouling National Park, searching for the emo rinko plant to extract poison to use on the hunting arrows (eyuk). One had to be very careful with this plant, which is to be ground and mixed with mane (a kind of creeper) and talo (wild potato) to get the lethal paste. Gumin recollects how some people had lost their lives in the process.
The poison acts when it reaches the bloodstream, incapacitating the prey. Once an animal is shot, it is tracked, and the arrow is quickly pulled out to ensure the meat is safe for consumption. The forest where the emo plant grows is also believed to hold evil spirits in human form. On the way back, Gumin’s troop was received well ahead of the village by women who brushed the hands and feet of the men, to ward off these spirits. On the night of their return, the community gathered for song, dance, and a fowl sacrifice. The poison collected from the trip was worshipped and divided among the adult male members of the village. The poison-laced arrows were kept over the fireplace to dry.
Over the next few weeks, every man brought down as many animals and birds as he could to become a part of the festivity ahead. That was the way of the Adi — the most prominent tribe along the Siang River Basin in Arunachal Pradesh.
Elephants in proximity
While most Adis have given up hunting since 2016, it is still practised by a few villagers in the Siang River belt. Festivals like Ampi Kiruk and Unying Aaran still have hunting groups scouring the wilderness for bush meat. During festivals, they also showcase weapons, tribal legends, and the traditional hunting dress. But, over the years, the Adi have also come to realise that the forests have changed. There are fewer birds in the jungle, and spotting a sambar to make a kill has become more difficult. Due to development projects and floodplain erosion, the river has changed course, and elephant herds have started moving towards human habitation and farmlands to forage.
Since 2005, almost every household has been affected by increased interaction with wild elephant herds. Farmlands have been destroyed, houses damaged, and sometimes, lives lost too. In retaliation, the Adis have sometimes killed or injured elephants, with the conflict becoming more aggressive on both ends. A better solution was required.
Hunters turned conservationists
Standing proud under the winter sun, Monumoti Tayeng takes centre stage at the village council meeting (kebang) in progress at Paglam Village in 2023. The agenda revolves around the community’s role in restoring elephant corridors along the Siang River Basin, flowing not far from where they stand.
As the village head (gaon buri), she has everyone’s attention. “Sitah (elephants) have been the reason we have been able to hold on to our forests,” she starts. “These majestic creatures have had a huge role in ensuring that our forests have kept on providing throughout the generations. They are the architects of our jungles. But things have been changing for the worse in the last decade.” Human-elephant conflict has been on the rise in villages like Paglam and Mer along the D’ering-Dibru Saikhowa Corridor that connects the D’ering Wildlife Sanctuary, Arunachal Pradesh and Dibru-Saikhowa National Park, Assam. As large swathes of forest patches have degraded, 500-odd elephants that move between these parks often enter human habitation, including crop fields, and damage is done to both sides.
It’s commendable that the community has come together to resolve the issue. Famed for its past hunting prowess, this community also brought down elephants for their community feasts, recounted some Paglam village elders. But today, they seek a solution that aligns with restoring the ecological balance of the landscape.
Monumoti explains, “We have been irresponsible in the way we have been exploiting forest resources in the past few decades. Unregulated jhum (shifting) cultivation and increasing anthropogenic pressure on the forests have resulted in massive fragmentation of elephant habitats, thus escalating the conflict between humans and wildlife. Being the tribe that has always been connected to nature, we should understand that the balance of the landscape shouldn’t be disturbed”.
Community reserves for elephants
The communities in Mer, Namsing, and Paglam villages formed the Kotgahgorah Community Reserve Society in 2021, which, with support from the Arunachal Forest Department, Wildlife Trust of India (WTI), and the World Land Trust (WLT), is engaged in habitat restoration through targeted plantations. Species like samanea (raintree), dillenia (elephant apple), Psidium guajava (guava), terminalia, Bombax ceiba and albizzia are interspersed in the grasslands. The community protects these areas from cattle grazing to assist in the regeneration. Farmers in Mer have also collaboratively put aside 70 hectares of land to create a community reserve that offers a continuous and undisturbed corridor. Similarly, the Kotgahgorah Committee has committed 200 hectares and 1,150 hectares of land in Namsing and Paglam villages, respectively, towards creating community reserves for elephants. “The plantation activity initiated to restore the forest patches of Paglam has not only provided ecological benefits but has also benefited villagers by involving them as part of the process”, Monumoti tells me.
The Kotgahgorah, with support from villagers and the WTI, has also put up electric fences along Paglam village’s boundaries to deter elephants from crossing human habitations. Since the project started in 2021, these interventions have greatly reduced negative human-elephant interactions. WTI has also been working with the community to come up with supplementary livelihood opportunities, including piggery and fishery. “These additional opportunities for livelihood support a stronger economy for households who have always depended on natural resources while also encouraging the community to reduce their footprint in the forests”, says Deepankar Barman, Field Officer at WTI’s D’ering-Dibru Saikhowa Elephant Corridor Project.
Hope in the land of the rising sun
In 2016, the Adi Banne Kebang (ABK), the Traditional Apex, Appellate & Supreme Council of the Adi Tribe, passed a resolution to ban ritualistic hunting. Encouraged by the WTI, the ABK also passed a resolution that enforces a complete ban on the use, sale, storing, transportation, and possession of air guns and pellets in East Siang District. Under the current leadership, the locals have joined the “Air Gun Surrender Abhiyan” to put down their weapons.
For the Adis in Paglam, Mer, and Namsing, the nuances of Ampi Kiruk have changed. While it’s still a prominent festival with dancing and festivities, it doesn’t involve large-scale hunting expeditions anymore. To celebrate their customs, villagers still gather with their weapons and showcase their emo-laced eyuks and other weapons, at the beginning of ceremonies. However, there are a few people who still venture into the forests to hunt. “Gone are the days when we looked forward to the Ampi Kiruk as another opportunity for a communal feast of wild meat. Now, it’s more about celebrating our culture, community, and relationship with nature. We know that the world is racing towards a biodiversity crisis, and it is our responsibility to ensure that Arunachal Pradesh, the easternmost state of India, also known as the ‘Land of the Rising Sun’, gives new hope,” adds Gumin.
Monumoti speaks of how two years of ongoing restoration has brought leopards and golden jackals back to Paglam’s forests. She smiles and glances towards a pair of sunbirds perched in the lantana thickets nearby. The Adi people, devout worshippers of the sun, moon, and nature, are a perfect example of successful coexistence in a world trying hard to revive its harmony with nature. For generations, Adi traditions, rituals and customs were deeply intertwined with nature. However, in the past few decades, they have witnessed the rapid decline of their natural resources. Given their adaptability to such crises, they will be custodians of their rich natural heritage for future generations.