When we examined the temporal pattern of malnutrition in the Dhani tribal subdivision in the Amravati district of Maharashtra, it appeared to be an anomaly in the data. It surprised us that the number of children with severe acute malnutrition (SAM) and moderate acute malnutrition (MAM) peaked in his April. Common sense in nutrition discourse dictates that the peak should be in the monsoon, when diarrhea persists, or in the winter, when hypothermia is the devil for children. For at least the past three years, numbers have peaked in April each year. And this was no small peak. The numbers suddenly increased by more than five times, with two tribe blocks containing more SAM and MAM children than the remaining 12 blocks combined. The number continued to decline steadily throughout the year until it peaked again in her April.
what was going on? After some talks, some families returned to Dhani from where they migrated in March for Holi (the biggest festival here), and then returned to fulfill their contracts and the harvest of the caliphate began. I’ve noticed that it only comes back “permanently” in season (where the peak in June was small). Subsequent investigations revealed a more direct correlation in Nandurva, a tribal district in Maharashtra. A 2018 UNICEF study followed the same cohort of children before and after migration. The number of SAMs has quadrupled and MAMs have doubled too much — at least half of the displaced children. Given the geographic complexity of migration and lack of data, there are few such studies.
Immigration has become a buzzword during the Covid pandemic in cities. However, immigration to the countryside has been going on for years. Particularly in tribal areas, resettlements range from six to eight months per year due to lack of industry, problems with forest rights or their implementation, and lack of irrigation facilities.
The first question I asked myself was, if people are staying elsewhere for more than six months, is that place the same as their home? Education, health, connectivity, water supply, electricity. Multiple government plans to strengthen the village work on the assumption that people will stay in the village and reap what this capital and operation sows. This assumption does not apply in high migration areas, skewing our understanding of the interrelationships between nutrition, migration and livelihoods (including MGNREGS among others) in the long run.
We decided to tackle last year’s findings and asked a few questions. Where did people most migrate from? How many? Where was the highest density of migrants? We got some answers, but they seemed vague. Our nutrition survey highlighted that the lack of migration data inflated the denominator (the number of children being measured). This is especially true as births continue to add to the denominator, leading to data that do not accurately reflect the situation. We were in the middle of immigration season and decided to meet a family that had emigrated.
There are three things I learned from field visits that have changed everything I’ve ever understood about migration. The clearest memory I have is of shaking his head when I asked a brick kiln owner “Kitne bacche honge idhar (how many children do you have here?)” . He said ‘Ham bacche nahi ginte kyunki voh idhar kaam nahi karte’ (children don’t count because they don’t work here). So it’s no wonder that invisible people, especially pregnant/lactating women and children, were ‘useless’ here. It was also important to confront my own prejudices. We think migration is bad, but here multiple families were offered guaranteed wages. The word “guaranteed” is especially important. Many people have told us that they don’t mind working here if MGNREGS is guaranteed to work from home.
The second learning came when I met a 9-month-old baby who was due for the MMR vaccination. that. Our guess is that during this 6-8 month period, many children and pregnant women must have gone unvaccinated. This is not due to a lack of infrastructure or indifference to health and nutrition. Because there is a lack of knowledge that these beneficiaries are here. Most of these brick kilns are located about 1-2 km from the village, making it difficult for both donors and recipients to contact them until there is some communication from the government.
Portability as a concept is not new. But his third lesson for me was that we had to start thinking about systems that weren’t entirely on demand. Our question — Do you take rations from the shops? Will you bring your children to Anganwadi? — was answered negatively. It didn’t surprise me. Cork population displaced mainly in the Marathi belt: Think about bargaining power, especially that of women and children. It doesn’t take long to join the dots.
Our learning led us to start working on strengthening our migration tracking system and MGNREGS. However, these inter-relationships need to be explored in greater depth, especially in tribal areas with high malnutrition densities. SAM and MAM are the tip of the iceberg when talking about nutrition. To reduce stunting and underweight in the long term and improve health, we need to understand the interplay between nutrition, livelihoods and poverty. A plan focused on targeting and triaging the most vulnerable—a strategy that puts them at the center rather than silos—may be what it takes to make strides in improving people’s well-being. not.
The author is a 2017 Batch IAS Officer in Maharashtra.the view is personal
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