Over the last few weeks, the state has been receiving very distressing news that sheds light on the scale of illegality taking place in Meghalaya. Just over a week ago, a member of ACHIK, a pressure group based in the Garo Hills, was killed by miscreants in Rajabala. Realising the explosive nature of the incident, Chief Minister Conrad Sangma personally appealed for peace.
In the days that followed, arrests were made, and fortunately no further incidents have been reported. While the Leader of the Opposition, Mukul Sangma, also appealed for peace, he took the opportunity to criticise the government, blaming it for allowing illegal activities to flourish in the state—activities which, in this instance, led to the killing of the ACHIK member.
Illegality does appear to have become normalised in the state, with the most blatant example being the ongoing illegal coal mining, which continues to claim lives.
Around the time the state was preparing to celebrate Christmas, it was rocked by news of an explosion at an illegal coal mining site in Thangsko, located in East Jaintia Hills. Initially, the police denied the incident, but after videos of severely burned workers circulated on social media, they were forced to admit that it had occurred. Two people were killed in the explosion.
This was not the first time lives were lost due to illegal coal mining. In 2018, 15 miners were trapped in a mine in Ksan, another village in East Jaintia Hills.
In 2019, two miners were killed when another coal mine collapsed in Mooknor, Jalyiah village. Despite the Meghalaya Human Rights Commission opening an inquiry into the Thangsko incident, it is almost certain that such tragedies will be repeated in the future. I am, sadly, confident of this because of what I witnessed during my visit to East Jaintia Hills.
Last week, I accompanied Kong Patricia Mukhim, editor of The Shillong Times, to a programme in Saipung. On the way, we passed through Sutnga, a place well known for coal mining. Historically, however, it was the site where War Amwi founded Hima Sutnga, which later became Hima Jaintiapur when it expanded into the Sylhet plains.
I was eager to see the village to better understand the context in which this once-great Hima was born. Since we were only passing through, I could not observe much of the area, especially as we had to roll up our windows to prevent dust from entering the vehicle.
Although Sutnga is officially recorded as a village, it more closely resembles a small town, with well-built houses reflecting the prosperity of its residents.
According to the 2011 Census, the village has a total population of 550 households. While it is unclear whether all households benefited equally from the coal trade, it appears that a significant number of people did gain from it.
A similar observation can be made when passing through Ladrymbai, one of only two towns in East Jaintia Hills. All kinds of shops can be found in the market, which appeared livelier than other towns of similar size in Meghalaya. Most of the shops were run by the non-indigenous community, undoubtedly generating substantial rental income for local landowners.
It is evident that the market has flourished because of coal mining. When the mines are eventually exhausted, the market will shrink and may even disappear. At present, the footfall in the market is quite heavy, which is evident from the shops being lavishly stocked with goods. Consequently, traffic congestion is a major issue.
Therefore, we decided not to pass through the town and instead took a detour from Mookhep, turning left onto an alternate road. After a few minutes of driving along this route, we stopped at an open space to have breakfast prepared by Kong Patricia.
After breakfast, I went into the bushes to relieve myself. One of the camera crew members accompanying H. Hamkhein Mohrmen, a well-known social and environmental activist, in the other vehicle came with me. We noticed a hole overgrown with vegetation.
Curious about its depth, I approached it, but the cameraman cautioned me against going any closer. It was one of the pits dug for coal mining, and the entire area is riddled with such underground tunnels. Given Meghalaya’s heavy rainfall, it is only a matter of time before the percolation of rainwater weakens the soil enough to cause collapses.
Very soon, the entire area will be littered with sinkholes. Effluent from these abandoned mines also poses a serious contamination risk to local water bodies. In fact, one of the streams we crossed had a bluish tinge—a tell-tale sign of pollution caused by mining.
The spot where we had breakfast had once been used as a coal depot. There was none there that day, which led me to assume that coal mining had ceased, especially since the Thangsko incident was less than a month old. I was badly mistaken.
As soon as we entered Sookilo village, signs of coal mining were everywhere. Huge piles of coal lay on both sides of the road.
Overloaded trucks covered with tarpaulin became a common sight. Many of these trucks had their registration numbers removed, making identification impossible. It has been over ten years since the Supreme Court imposed a ban on coal mining, yet coal continues to be transported under the pretext that it is old stock being disposed of. The coal heaps lining the road did not look ten years old.
That mining is continuing unabated was further evident from the ladders hanging from the sides of many trucks—ladders used in rat-hole mining, a practice explicitly banned by the Supreme Court.
One of the most visible impacts of ongoing coal mining was the pathetic condition of the roads. The constant movement of overloaded trucks had resulted in the roads becoming riddled with potholes.
As mentioned earlier, dust was everywhere, forcing us to keep our windows shut to avoid suffocation. The biggest casualty of this deplorable state of the roads was Moolamylliang. Since 2019, the village has been known for its Christmas Festival of Lights, which has attracted tourists from across the region.
This year, however, the festival had to be cancelled due to poor road conditions that made travel unsafe—a fact I can personally attest to after passing through the area. The condition of the road in Sutnga is no better.
Santa Mary Shylla, the MLA of the Sutnga-Saipung constituency, has announced that ₹260 crore has been sanctioned for road improvement, with work scheduled to commence by March this year. The funding is being provided by the World Bank, making it yet another externally aided project—one that some argue is increasing the state’s indebtedness to external agencies.
Even if roads are repaired or newly constructed, how long they will last if overloaded trucks carrying illegally mined coal continue to ply on them remains to be seen. As we left the valley and climbed the green-clad hills of Tongseng Nongkhlieh, we gained a bird’s-eye view of the devastation caused by coal mining.
Supporters of coal mining often argue that disrupting it would ruin the local economy and adversely affect people’s livelihoods. This argument assumes that the benefits of mining have been shared—if not equally, then at least equitably—among the local population.
A cursory glance at Sutnga might suggest that this is true. However, when the socio-economic indicators of East Jaintia Hills district are examined, the picture that emerges is one of deep deprivation. According to NITI Aayog’s India: National Multidimensional Poverty Index – A Progress Review 2023, East Jaintia Hills has the third-highest proportion of people suffering from multidimensional poverty in the state, at 43.79 per cent.
Similarly, NITI Aayog’s North Eastern Region District SDG Index: Report and Dashboard 2021–22 ranks the district third from the bottom among all districts across the 15 Sustainable Development Goals.
These findings suggest that the claim that coal mining is essential to the local economy and provides valuable livelihoods applies to only a small section of the population. While it may have made a few individuals extremely wealthy, the cost borne by the majority has been extremely disastrous.
Indeed, what is happening in East Jaintia Hills is a tragedy for a people who once built one of the most powerful Khasi Himas—one whose influence was felt far and wide. Will that golden age ever return? Not while illegality continues to reign.
Also Read: Arunachal: Hidden fungi in bamboo show promise against drug-resistant bacteria