Reviving healthcare services in the Red Corridor villages
The sun was just coming up. We were headed for Poro Gumodi and Bade Hidma, villages located in the hills bordering Sukma and Dantewada districts of the Bastar region. Arduous to reach, it had been more than a decade since the health team had visited these villages in India’s Red Corridor known for its left-wing extremism.
At Jagargunda village, the sight of a woman with a swollen belly being carried by two men on a makeshift cot greeted us. She had suffered an infection due to ignorance about postpartum care. Carrying her, the men had walked for 25 km from Jonaguda village. This gave me a fair idea of the healthcare situation in the village.
As an aspirational district fellow, I wondered if the healthcare services could be restored in these villages.
The primary health centre (PHC) in Jagargunda still functions in a two-room building, situated in a security camp. Jagargunda in the middle of the forests was a flourishing merchant town once, connecting the three districts of Sukma, Bijapur and Dantewada. But a decade ago the Naxalites and the Salwa Judum militia of tribal youth deployed as a counterinsurgency force by the Chhattisgarh government destroyed the village and isolated it from all sides.
The Konta administrative block of Sukma was majorly affected by the Salwa Judum initiative. Thousands of villagers – caught between the Naxalites and the Salwa Judum members – fled their homes in the forests and took shelter in camps set up by the state’s armed forces. One such camp is in Jagargunda, barricaded on all four sides. Naxals went on to destroy the roads connecting Jagargunda to the outside world, allegedly to stop arms supply to Judum members.
Our journey on this route in a government vehicle was a one-and-a-half-hour roller coaster ride. Travel time would have been considerably longer in a different vehicle, as civilian movement is strictly monitored. Every checkpoint requires registration, a procedure mandated by the forces to maintain a record of all travellers.
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During our year-long aspirational district fellowship in Sukma, my co-fellow Gokul and I were likely the only unarmed administrative personnel traversing this road. We journeyed to the district’s remotest corners to experience the impact of Salwa Judum, and analyse public health, nutrition and education.
Maternal deaths and malnourished children were tragically common. Many medical professionals were targeted or intimidated, leading to a shortage of trained personnel willing to work in the region. Health centres had been closed, leading to worsened health outcomes and a significant humanitarian crisis.
We collaborated with Dr Kapil Dev Kashyap, the block medical officer (BMO) of Konta. Dr Kapil, as I call him, epitomised dedication and ventured into the block’s most dangerous villages along with his field teams. Frequent field visits by Gokul and me fuelled his enthusiasm further.
With his invaluable help, we mapped 12 sub health centres (SHCs) that didn’t have their own buildings. Ten of them didn’t even have staff due to their perceived inaccessibility (no roads), danger and pragmatic insignificance. Serving 5-6 villages each, some SHCs saw a medical staff only during the annual government immunisation camps. These facilities, meant to be the bedrock of rural healthcare, existed only on paper – thanks to the conflict.