MONKEY MENACE | Bandipora village loses crop to sneaky thieves

Bandipora: The dawn is not peaceful in the Bandipora village, which lies near the forest edge.

The chirping of birds is drowned out by loud hoots that mimic monkeys.

Ahatmullah village used to have a thriving horticulture and agriculture industry, with locals claiming it once supplied almost 70 percent of the vegetable demand in Bandipora town and its surrounding areas.

But now, the situation is bleak.

Hundreds of acres of apple orchards and vegetable farms are “witnessing ruin”.

“Nobody likes vegetable farming anymore. Even kitchen gardens are deserted,” says Mudasir Ahmad Wani, a native villager and advocate.

The reason for the “economic ruin” is monkeys, who roam the village in large numbers all day.

The situation gets worse as the harvesting season approaches, and orchardists do everything they can to prevent apples from being eaten or stolen by the monkeys.

But they have little success, as wild animals always outsmart and outnumber the guards hired by the landlords.

“We have to face the consequences as our salary is cut. It has always been the case,” says Farooq Ahmad Gujjar, 65, from Bankoot village, who guards some of the apple orchards along with his wife and five children.

From early morning until nightfall, Gujjar and his family make sure no monkeys sneak into the orchard.

With a stick in hand, Gujjar, like other guards, patrols in and around the orchard and across the fence, making loud howling sounds to scare the monkeys away.

But he meets constant failures like other guards and owners, as packs of aggressive monkeys always find ways to break in.

The speed with which the monkeys cross the chain link, steal apples, and climb lofty pine trees to enjoy red juicy apples is unbeatable.

The howling only stops when the night comes.

“My wife broke a leg chasing monkeys a few days ago,” Gujjar says, accusing the Wildlife Department officials of providing no help. “They don’t even have firecrackers. It is frustrating, as scores of pleas for help have gone unanswered.”

Mudasir agrees with Gujjar’s assertions.

He says that they have made numerous representations to the higher authorities, but “nothing has happened”.

Mudasir says not only are the orchards and agriculture suffering but also cases of man-animal conflict in the village have increased.

“From children to elders, several such incidents have occurred in our village where monkeys have bitten or scratched people,” he says.

Mudasir says there were ways to keep monkeys away without interfering with their natural habitat, “but authorities were least bothersome about the plight of the villagers”.

He said that the Wildlife Department in Bandipora was “toothless” as only a few employees were stationed in the entire Bandipora district, with its offices in Baramulla district.

Farooq Ahmad Wani, 40, another local orchardist, says that the situation has been alarming for the last two years as the population of monkeys has grown manifold. “Earlier, the population of monkeys was in the hundreds, but now thousands of them roam around and inside the village,” Wani says.

The locals, besides blaming the Wildlife Department for its “inefficiency”, also suggest that the random dumping of waste by the increased number of visitors to the Chiternaar forests near the village, a picnic spot, and the Forest Divisional Office had attracted more monkeys.

Among the guards is 80-year-old Gam Khan, a villager from Panaar who patrols the thick tree line in the nearby forests where the forest training institute is also located. “It’s monkey hell,” he asserts howling his loudest.

However, the sneaky thieves outsmart anyone by running and jumping across the trees with thick foliage.

“This is time for them to relish walnuts and apples at the cost of our livelihood,” Khan says, making a smirky face.