Marginalised Yanadi and Chenchu communities in Andhra Pradesh struggle for land

On one side lies the bustle of Poranki Centre in Vijayawada city, where gridlocked traffic, thriving shops, and a sprawling residential colony dictate the rhythms of everyday life. On the other, about 40 Yanadi families are living in a world completely detached from urban civilisation. Though separated by barely a few kilometres, the true distance between these two worlds is measured in their access to education, healthcare, secure livelihoods, and basic amenities.

Poranki, a prominent neighbourhood within the Penamaluru mandal of the Vijayawada revenue division, contains pockets where contrasting realities exist side by side. In Prabhu Nagar, a spacious residential area reached by a narrow lane branching off the main thoroughfare, the contrast becomes stark just beyond a pre-primary Anganwadi centre.

Here, a pathway covered in mud and slush gives way to a cramped, filthy alley of makeshift shelters. Pieced together from frayed plastic sheets and tarpaulins, these dwellings lack even basic doors or windows. A short walk through this landscape reveals children running barefoot through the muck, and women sitting on iron cots outside their shelters—some quietly combing their hair, others talking in hushed tones. There is little movement here, and even less cheer. It is a settlement suspended in a state of deprivation, despite being within easy reach of the mainstream world.

The true depth of the families’ predicament becomes clear within minutes. Their makeshift shelters sit precariously on a small portion of private land that doubles as a Christian burial ground. A few graves lie startlingly close to the dwellings. Pointing toward one of the weathered mounds, Thupakula Pottamma, a woman in her fifties, quietly says it is where her mother-in-law was buried a few years ago. “We live where the dead rest. We too will join them when we die,” she says, her voice choking.

Making matters worse, the landowners have repeatedly asked the families to vacate the property. Yet, the residents insist they have nowhere else to go. Over the years, they have knocked on the doors of local officials and ruling party leaders, pleading for a piece of land where they can finally relocate and build secure lives.

“Years have passed, but no alternative has materialised,” says Subbamma. “The one time we pressed for a solution, the authorities said they would shift us to either Onkuru or Pulipaka. But it seemed like they were only saying that to ward us off,” she adds.

Slushy pathways

And their problems don’t end there. When it rains, the settlement is quickly inundated, forcing the families to take shelter in the Anganwadi building or in the cellar of a nearby apartment complex, an arrangement facilitated by a local TDP leader.

“The pathway to our homes becomes so slushy that we can hardly walk on it. After repeated requests, the local authorities laid gravel on it, but the recent heavy rains washed it all away. There is no sign of the gravel now,” says Durga Bhavani, pointing to the muddy, slush-filled pathway.

Another problem is that no one in the community, young or old, seems to know their age. “I don’t know. It is mentioned on my Aadhaar card, which I got only recently,” says Eega Eeswar, who looks barely old enough to be the father of three children.

For a living, the men go fishing in the nearby canals or scavenging for recyclable waste, while some of the women venture out to collect waste to supplement the meagre household income. Even before the break of dawn, they go out, rummaging around for plastic, tins, metal pieces, and other discarded material to make anywhere between ₹200 and ₹300 by selling them to the local scrap dealer.

For children in the settlement, the divide begins early, making education a distant dream. However, intervention by a local NGO has helped a few children enrol in the nearby Zilla Parishad school, offering them a chance to break out of the cycle of deprivation.

Charmadi was immersed in her school work while sitting outside her shelter at Prabhu Nagar in Poranki. | Photo Credit: G.N. Rao

“It took us a long time to persuade the families to send their children to school. They take time to trust outsiders,” says Vasantha Kumari from Navajeevan Bala Bhavan (NJBB), an NGO working for the rescue and rehabilitation of children and youth from troubled backgrounds.