A whiff of rain was in the air, but the sky was an empty blue canvas. It would be a few more days before the monsoon clouds claimed the landscape, but for now, the arid landscape of Nakhatrana, in Gujarat’s Bhuj District, was still testing its denizens. What brought me to the barren land was the Indian spiny-tailed lizard (Saara hardwickii), locally known as the sanda. Lying flat on the scorching land, my gaze and lens were focused on one of the burrows in the distance, where I’d noticed a hint of activity a little while earlier.
The Sanda is among the most unique animals in this arid ecosystem. Though a solitary reptile, with each individual having its own burrow, they live in colonies, sharing the same patch of land and feeding on a variety of plants. These herbivores prefer flat areas where they have the option of a 360-degree lookout, just like meerkats. It’s quick to retreat into the burrow on the slightest sign of movement — a survival technique to protect itself from aerial attack from birds of prey who target the species and from land hunters like desert foxes, spectacled cobras, etc., who are more generalists. This also meant that I had to lay low to approach the sanda to be able to capture a few photographs for my records.
However, the main threat to the spiny-tailed lizard doesn’t come from animal attacks. Its population has dwindled to the “Vulnerable” category on the IUCN Red List because of rampant poaching. Believed to be a cure for impotence and a relief to joint pains, the sanda is still hunted extensively for its body fat. The broad fat-laden tail that ensures the animal’s survival during the winter hibernation is a key reason why it is frequently dug out of its burrows. The market for the alleged medicine goes beyond local boundaries and supports exports to countries in the Middle East. India’s Wildlife (Protection) Act, 1972, places the species under Schedule 1, giving it the highest degree of protection, as per a new amendment in 2022.
An alleged medicine that kills
“If you check on Google for sanda tel, you will probably get dozens of websites that are selling the product”, exclaimed a herder I crossed paths with who wanted to discuss the issue. I checked, and indeed, it was true. Searches on social media platforms like Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube reveal many disturbing videos. In 2019, the Wildlife Trust of India (WTI) intervened to protect the sanda in the Nakhatrana landscape. Putting the community at the forefront of the efforts, WTI teamed up with Sahjeevan, a local NGO, to raise awareness about and stop the hunting of this lizard, through a Rapid Action Project grant. Using a volunteer network of herders, the community of Nakhatrana monitored the area under their jurisdiction. Whenever there was information about outsiders (non-locals) operating in the area, calls were made to the panchayat and local forest department offices, and the authorities intervened. Awareness workshops and sensitisation programmes in local schools further strengthened the support for the spiny-tailed lizards. The forest department also joined in the efforts, and regular patrolling ensured the lizards had one less thing to worry about.
“The work in Nakhatrana is certainly commendable, but the efforts now need to go beyond” Shanti Lal Dhanji Patel, a local village headman, had expressed to me. The hunting of the lizard is still prevalent in some regions of Kachchh and other parts of Gujarat. The state of Rajasthan also reports a considerable number of poaching cases every year.
The lizard hunters are mostly farmers, pastoralists, and daily wage earners. Selling sanda oil has long been a way of supplementing their income. For these hunters, the spiny-tailed lizards are an easy catch, and reports suggest that a pair of hunters can easily bag 30 individuals in a matter of hours. Mostly pursued by the nomadic Jagariaya, Koli, Pardhi, and Vaghari communities of Kachchh, poachers would shovel into burrows, following the signs of the animal. They then capture the lizard by hand and cruelly break its spinal cord with a twist of the neck. Though this doesn’t kill the animal, it paralyses it. According to poachers, they must keep the lizard alive to ensure that no blood clots form and ensure the continued production of the fat until the lizard is ready to be cut. Another hunting method involves blocking the burrow entrance with a large rock, which restricts the lizard’s movement, allowing easier capture. Eventually, the captured individuals are sliced open to remove the fat. The meat also becomes a part of the oil-making process or is consumed separately.
While there is no scientific proof of the medicinal effectiveness of sanda oil, the hunters strongly believe in its alleged powers. Mustard oil and garlic are also added to the concoction, supposedly to enhance its alleged healing effects. The tradition of oil extraction and buyer market information is passed down through generations. However, there hasn’t been a recent report on the extent of the trade. An early report by Vyas (1991) suggests that in Gujarat alone, between 4,000 and 5,000 spiny-tailed lizards were hunted annually to supply the markets in cities like Delhi, Mumbai, and Ahmedabad. Not much has been achieved for the lizard’s protection since then, and their numbers today could be just the same. Only an updated report will tell us the truth.
One threat too many
The habitat of the spiny-tailed lizard is already fragmented with rapid development projects and windmills being installed across the Kachchh landscape. Adding to the threat is the increased vehicular traffic in what once was “uninhabitable and unusable” land. For now, the people of Nakhatrana are the only hope for a species that hasn’t quite received the attention it deserves. Perhaps their community intervention model can be extended to other parts of the country as well. Whatever the case may be, change will only begin when people realise that a lizard cannot be the solution to medical problems like impotence, and that the inhumane killing of even one lizard only leaves fewer “humans” on Earth.
Still lying on the ground, glued to my viewfinder, I finally saw a lizard emerge from the ground, look in my direction, and feel comfortable enough to show itself in all its glory. Suddenly, the desert came alive.