India’s Data Centre Boom Is Creating Next Environmental Conflict

Anusreeta Dutta | 28 Jul 2026

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Should public money be used to prop up energy-hungry digital infrastructure without more efficiency and environmental safeguards?

Image Courtesy:  Wikimedia Commons

The defining tech race of this decade has been artificial intelligence or AI. Governments are competing to lure investment in data centres, cloud infrastructure, and semiconductor manufacturing, viewing digital infrastructure as the bedrock of future economic growth.

India is no exception. The country is positioning itself as a global digital hub with the India AI Mission, good State incentives, and billions of dollars in private investment into hyperscale data centres. Cities like Chennai, Hyderabad, Mumbai, and Noida are fast becoming the epicentres of this transition.

Policy makers may be praising the digital economy, but a different story is unfolding around the world. Large-scale data centres have drawn protests from residents in the United States over rising electricity usage, excessive water consumption, land acquisition, and public subsidies. We've seen this kind of opposition emerge in Ireland, the Netherlands, and Malaysia, where communities are increasingly questioning whether local residents are footing the bill for digital infrastructure while the benefits are flowing elsewhere.

At first, these protests may seem unconnected to India’s digital objectives. What they really contain is a vital warning. Every technical breakthrough leaves a physical footprint, and every physical footprint poses a political question. In the popular imagination, the cloud is sometimes imagined as an intangible, a limitless digital ecosystem in which information travels invisibly across networks. But the cloud is not weightless or invisible.

Every AI model, every digital payment, every online search, every streaming service relies on massive warehouses full of servers running around the clock. Such facilities require uninterrupted power, large cooling systems, reliable water sources, high-capacity transmission infrastructure, and huge parcels of land.

Environmental infrastructure is the bedrock of the digital economy. That is a fact that the Indian policy discourse is slow to recognise. Data centres are regularly cited as sources of innovation, jobs, and foreign investment. But little attention is paid to their environmental impact.

The need for computer power is likely to skyrocket as artificial intelligence applications become more common in healthcare, finance, manufacturing, and governance. Fulfilling that demand will take not just more computers, but more power, substations, transmission lines, and water-guzzling cooling systems. That has major political implications.

India’s infrastructure disputes have traditionally revolved around highways, dams, mining projects, and industrial corridors. More recently, renewable energy projects have sparked new debates about land ownership, biodiversity, and community rights. Solar parks in Rajasthan, transmission corridors in Gujarat, renewable infrastructure across Kutch have demonstrated that even projects designed to fight climate change can become areas of local conflict if issues of compensation, participation, and environmental protection are not addressed. Data centres will remain the same.

Unlike a typical manufacturing plant, data centres don’t normally produce visible pollution. They are less obvious, but they still have a big impact on the environment. A hyperscale plant can draw the power of a medium-sized town and needs constant cooling to prevent it from overheating.

As India’s digital ambitions grow, so do its power demands—and serious concerns: Should scarce renewable energy be prioritised over AI infrastructure, industrial production, or agricultural supply? How to operate water-intensive cooling systems in regions that are already under chronic water stress? Why should states subsidise land and power for international technology companies when many public utilities are still operating at a loss? These are technical issues. These are concerns for fairness of distribution.

Renewable energy changed the land conversation, and the rapid spread of AI infrastructure could change the conversation around electricity, water, and public goods. India’s digital revolution, like its green transition, is reaching a point where techno-optimism will no longer suffice. But the challenge is not just to build the digital infrastructure anymore. It is determining how such infrastructure fits within the country’s environmental constraints and development priorities.

The flare-ups of conflicts across the globe hint that data centers are no longer mere symbols of technological progress. They are becoming battlegrounds for competing visions of development, sustainability, and the public good. If renewable energy taught India that clean power projects are ultimately about land politics, the arrival of data centres is teaching a different lesson: that the digital economy is fundamentally an environmental economy. All AI apps, cloud services, and digital platforms depend on physical resources, and their availability is becoming more at risk. This is not an argument against digital infrastructure or against AI. India cannot afford to stay on the sidelines of the AI revolution. Data centres have become as strategically important as ports, roads, and industrial corridors for countries vying to build sovereign AI capabilities and woo global investors. These are essential to economic competitiveness, digital governance, and technology innovation.

The question is not if India should build data centres. That’s how they should be built. The world experience shows the political price of ignoring this issue. In the US, proposals for data centres have met resistance from communities concerned that the facilities will strain already stressed electricity grids, raise utility costs, and consume huge amounts of water. But with data centre, electricity demand in Ireland exploding, so too did concerns about grid stability and energy security.

Similar concerns have arisen elsewhere, and they reflect a larger reality: digital infrastructure is no longer seen as environmentally benign. Today, it’s part of larger conversations about public resources, environmental sustainability, and municipal accountability. India’s policy debate has not yet confronted the trade-offs fully.

Much of the debate around AI is about innovation, investment, and global competitiveness. And very little attention is paid to the environmental costs of that growth. Data centres need dependable power supplies, dedicated transmission infrastructure, and large cooling systems. These projects’ rapid growth will certainly further strain electricity generation, land, and water resources, especially in states already facing climate stress, groundwater depletion, and rising urban demand. This raises big questions about energy justice.

Governments compete for tech investment with land subsidies, tax breaks, and cheap electricity, and policymakers need to consider whether the benefits and costs are spread fairly. Should public money be used to prop up energy-hungry digital infrastructure without more efficiency and environmental safeguards? How should governments best use electricity for AI infrastructure, for homes, for farmers, and for small businesses? And who suffers the most from the environmental fallout when the local ecosystem is the one that absorbs the stress of nationally heralded technology investments?

Such questions have been raised before—over mining projects, industrial corridors, and, more recently, renewable energy parks. In each case infrastructure has been justified as a national development priority, but its environmental and social consequences have been largely local. Data centres are unlikely to be any different. Their effects may be less visible than a smokestack or an open-cast mine, but they are just as important in terms of resource allocation, environmental governance, and democratic accountability.

To see is to change public policy. Environmental assessment frameworks must factor in cumulative electricity use, water usage, and climate resilience instead of treating data centers as commercial real estate projects. Urban planning should incorporate digital infrastructure into wider resource management systems. More transparency about public subsidies and environmental performance may help build public trust before tensions arise. It is also important that there is meaningful participation with local communities so that decisions on large-scale digital infrastructure are not reduced to administrative details.

India’s digital transformation is often touted as an example of the country’s capacity to do better than older models of development. History, however, tells us that every infrastructure revolution eventually runs up against ecological limits. Railways transformed the landscape. Highways contributed to forest fragmentation. Renewable energy has transformed debates over commons and conservation. AI will transform the conversation around energy, water, and environmental justice. The next environmental fight in India might not be a coal mine or a thermal power plant. It could be coming out of a windowless warehouse full of servers.

The potential should not serve as a deterrent to India’s digital ambitions. Instead, it reminds us that technological progress cannot be separated from the control over the environment. The success of India’s AI economy will be measured not just by the number of data centres built but also by its ability to prove that digital growth, ecological sustainability, and social equity can coexist. If data is the 21st century, then data politics will be shaped more and more by land, water, and energy politics. The challenge for India is to recognise this truth before today's digital infrastructure becomes tomorrow's environmental conflict.

The writer is a columnist and climate researcher with experience in political research analysis, ESG research, and energy policy. The views are personal.

INDIA

Assam: How a Panchayat Built a Self-Sustaining Waste Management System

Sayantani Deb | 28 Jul 2026

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By combining community participation, scientific waste segregation and locally generated revenue, Jumarmur Gaon Panchayat has transformed waste disposal in a rural market and its surrounding villages.

Centralised waste deposit & segregation facility ( Photo - Sayantani Deb, 101Reporters )

For the last 24 years, Narayan Chandra Shil and Madhabi Shil, a shopkeeper couple who set up their stall twice a week at the Jumarmur weekly market in Assam's Nagaon district, had their lives overshadowed by unmanaged waste. Narayan Chandra, in his early 50s, frequently suffered respiratory issues, while Madhabi, in her late 40s, dealt with recurring headaches and skin problems.

"Waste disposal in the market was pathetic, especially after market days… Wednesday and Sunday. For days afterward it was difficult even to enter or pass by, as garbage piled up unattended," the couple told 101Reporters. "The condition was so unbearable that many times we were compelled to burn the waste openly."

That changed two years ago, when the Jumarmur Gaon Panchayat set up a centralised waste segregation facility as part of its solid waste management initiative.

"The market generates around 100 kg of waste every week—about 50 kg each on Wednesdays and Sundays—and the pile-up was not just foul-smelling but also generated toxic air that affected nearby residents. So a centralised waste segregation facility was built under the Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (MGNREGA) during 2023-24," said Nitu Bora, the ward member under whose jurisdiction the market falls.

Former Gram Panchayat Secretary Rajeeb Dev Goswami said the facility was constructed at a cost of Rs 1.75 lakh, with 30% of the funds coming from the 15th Finance Commission grant and the remaining amount provided by the Public Health Engineering Department.

Located about 20 km from the district headquarters in Nagaon, Jumarmur Gaon Panchayat falls under the Kathiatali Development Block. Spread across 252.36 hectares and six revenue villages, it is home to nearly 14,000 people from Hindu, Muslim and Christian communities. In 2023-24, the panchayat jointly won the second prize in the Clean and Green category of the Deen Dayal Upadhyay Panchayat Satat Vikas Puraskar (DDUPSVP), receiving a cash award of Rs 37.5 lakh along with a trophy and citation.

"Keeping every corner of the panchayat clean and waste-free is one of my prime focuses, and we're using various methods to do it," said Ummul Maskin, president of Jumarmur Gaon Panchayat. "Waste management in rural areas is often seen as difficult, but as a team, Jumarmur wanted to prove that rural communities can build a sustainable environment if everyone works together."

The panchayat's first step was to set up mini waste collection centres in each ward. Waste collected through door-to-door collection is deposited at these centres, which residents can also use directly. From there, it is transported by e-rickshaw to the centralised segregation facility. Waste generated at the weekly market, however, is taken directly to the central facility on market days.

Maskin said convincing villagers to adopt the new system was initially a challenge.

"Proper waste disposal is more a mindset than anything else. At first, many were reluctant. They were used to dumping garbage in their backyards or by the roadside, or burning it, so adjusting to the new rules was difficult. We brought in Self-Help Group (SHG) members to guide them," she said.

Women from local SHGs then began visiting households to spread awareness.

"We visited every household, holding sessions especially with women since they manage most household activities. We educated them on why waste management matters and how to segregate organic and inorganic waste," said Badrabati Kalita, a member of Pub Kawaymari Kanaklata Aatma Sahayok Gut.

"At first, people found it difficult because waste segregation was a completely new concept. But we kept visiting homes, explaining that the whole village's environment would suffer if waste wasn't managed properly. Slowly, they understood and changed their behaviour," Kalita added.

SHG members also explained how unmanaged waste can block drains, pollute land and water bodies, and how open burning harms both humans and animals. Gram sabhas were held at various stages to reinforce these messages.

Changing habits

"It's now mandatory for every shopkeeper in the market to deposit waste at the designated spot in the segregation facility on market days. Those who don't face consequences, but everyone complies," Madhabi said. She added that the market, once difficult to sit in all day because of scattered waste, is now clean and healthy.

The change has extended beyond the marketplace. Sixteen-year-old Ankurima Bora begins each morning by checking whether her household's waste has been properly segregated before the collection vehicle arrives.

"As soon as I wake up, I check the backyard to make sure everything is arranged before I do anything else. On period days, I keep sanitary napkins in a completely separate bag, since mixing them with regular waste can be a health and environmental hazard," she said.

Gaon Burah Dipak Saikia said changing decades-old habits required sustained effort.

"Villagers usually follow practices they've seen for decades, and changing that mindset is difficult. But with joint efforts from the panchayat, SHGs and concerned citizens, the awareness campaigns against careless dumping and plastic burning have paid off," he said.

Saikia said the village still needs an improved drainage system to ensure rainwater flows out smoothly, a demand he has been raising with the panchayat since becoming Gaon Burah in 2023.

Narayan Chandra & Madhabi Shil at their makeshift shop in Jumurmur bazar ( Photo - Sayantani Deb, 101Reporters )

Innovative strategies

Goswami, who oversaw the financial aspects of the initiative, said the panchayat received Rs 1.55 crore under the 15th Finance Commission grant. Of this, Rs 90 lakh was used to construct 36 community toilets, Rs 2.5 lakh was allocated for solid waste management and another Rs 2.5 lakh for purchasing e-rickshaws and tricycles used for waste collection. The tricycles collect waste from households and transport it to the ward-level collection centres, while the e-rickshaws carry the waste from these centres to the centralised segregation facility.

The remaining funds were used to construct boundary walls for village schools, temples and namghars, besides building paved block roads, Goswami said.

He said the panchayat soon realised that government grants alone would not be enough to sustain its cleanliness and waste management efforts.

"A few years ago, when the Assam government announced it would procure foodgrain from local farmers, villagers asked us to build a godown where they could store grain in exchange for rent to the panchayat. Since we were already working on cleanliness, greenery and waste management, and needed funds beyond what was allocated, the panchayat decided to construct a 30x20-foot godown on the panchayat office premises," Goswami said.

Since 2023, the godown has generated Rs 5,000 a month in rent, which is used entirely to support cleanliness, greenery and strengthen the waste management system.

"We've even hired two safai karmacharis, whose salaries are paid entirely from this rental income," he said.

The panchayat also earns nearly Rs 20,000 annually through trade licences issued to a rubber company and a petrol pump operating within its jurisdiction. Goswami said this revenue, along with the rental income, is used for village maintenance and beautification.

He added that household and market waste is now scientifically segregated into seven categories for disposal and recycling, with organic waste converted into compost and plastic and other recyclable material separated for sustainable handling.

Block Development Officer Sweta Pradhan Sarma credited continuous gram sabhas with ensuring community participation.

"The awareness reached even the last person in the community, and participation has grown significantly. None of this would have been possible without community support," she said.

Maskin said she never imagined the panchayat would receive national recognition.

"Coming from such a remote place, it was beyond imagination," she said.

The panchayat received Rs 37.5 lakh in prize money under the Deen Dayal Upadhyay Panchayat Satat Vikas Puraskar, which it plans to use for initiatives focused on women's empowerment and building a child- and women-friendly village. 

 Sayantani Deb is a freelance journalist and a member of 101Reporters, a pan-India network of grassroots reporters. 

Zero Funds for Next Pandemic?

Rajeev Choudhury | 29 Jul 2026

India raises health research budget but drops dedicated outbreak R&D fund in the past few years, as per official figures tabled in Parliament.

India has sharply increased its spending on health research over the past four years, but a little-noticed decision in the latest budget has eliminated funding for one scheme dedicated solely to developing tools to prevent disease outbreaks and epidemics.

A written reply tabled in the Rajya Sabha by the minister of state for health and family welfare, Prataprao Jadhav, on July 21 shows that the Department of Health Research (DHR) has received a budget estimate of ₹4,821.21 crore for 2026-27, up from ₹2,892.83 crore in 2023-24—an increase of nearly 67%.

Yet within that expanding budget, the allocation for the scheme titled "Development of Tools/Support to Prevent Outbreaks and Epidemics" has fallen steadily over the past three years before disappearing altogether.

According to the Ministry's reply to Rajya Sabha Unstarred Question No. 285, the scheme received ₹10 crore in 2023-24, ₹8 crore in 2024-25, and ₹3.67 crore in 2025-26. For 2026-27, both the budget estimate and expenditure columns carry a dash, indicating that no allocation has been made.

The scheme was designed to support research into new diagnostic tests, technologies and other public health tools for the prevention, early detection, surveillance and control of disease outbreaks. Its stated objective was to strengthen India's preparedness against emerging and re-emerging infectious diseases.

The move comes only a few years after the COVID-19 pandemic exposed how quickly new infections can overwhelm health systems and disrupt economies. More recently, countries have continued to monitor threats such as Mpox, outbreaks of H5N1 avian influenza, and other emerging infectious diseases.

The World Health Organisation (WHO) has repeatedly stressed that investment in surveillance, rapid diagnostics and research remains essential for detecting outbreaks early and limiting their spread.

The disappearance of this dedicated research fund, however, does not mean that India has stopped investing in epidemic preparedness altogether.

The parliamentary reply shows continued funding for several larger programmes with similar objectives. The government has allocated ₹351.06 crore in 2026-27 for areas like biosecurity preparedness, pandemic research, and the National One Health Mission under the Pradhan Mantri Ayushman Bharat Health Infrastructure Mission (PM-ABHI M), to Department of Health Research has been given which encourages teamwork in monitoring health across humans, animals, and the environment.

Of this, ₹351.06 crore in 2026-27 will be spent on elements such as biosecurity preparedness, pandemic research and the National One Health Mission which calls for coordinated surveillance across the human, animal and environmental health sectors.
Similarly, the Viral Research and Diagnostic Laboratories (VRDL) Scheme, which supports laboratory networks across the country for disease surveillance and outbreak investigations, has been allocated ₹70 crore in the current financial year. Funding has also increased for Multi-Disciplinary Research Units (MRUs) in medical colleges, with the allocation rising to ₹100.27 crore.

Even so, public health experts have long argued that dedicated funding streams often play a distinct role by supporting the development of new technologies specifically aimed at preventing future outbreaks rather than strengthening existing infrastructure alone.

The figures released by the Ministry do not explain why the standalone outbreak-prevention research scheme has been discontinued or whether its activities have been fully absorbed into other programmes.

As India continues to expand its overall investment in health research, the budget documents suggest that priorities within that spending are evolving. Whether broader programmes can fully replace a dedicated research fund for outbreak-prevention tools is likely to remain an important question as countries worldwide continue to prepare for the next emerging infectious disease.

The writer is a Delhi-based freelancer who writes on health issues and medical discoveries.

 INDIA

Bihar: How the Women Behind Makhana’s Global Rise Remain its Lowest-Paid Workers

Bina Kumari , Shruti Venkatesh | 30 Jul

 2026

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Bihar’s makhana industry is growing rapidly, but the women who power its labour-intensive supply chain remain trapped between low wages, limited bargaining power and little control over the value they create.

A woman laborer cleaning a makhana pond. Regular cleaning of the pond is considered essential for makhana farming (Photo - Bina Kumari, 101Reporters) .

Madhubani, Bihar: The sun has not yet risen. But at 4 am, Manju Devi’s day is already underway. She lights the stove, prepares breakfast, packs food for the family and gets her children ready for school. There is little time to spare. Before sunrise, she must reach the village pond.

Every morning by 6 am, she is waist-deep in muddy water, tending to Bihar’s most celebrated crop – makhana (foxnut).

For the next several hours, she toils in the pond. Some days she transplants saplings. On others, she removes weeds or harvests seeds hidden beneath the water's surface.

The work is tough and extremely demanding. Not only does it require long hours of bending and working in the water, but is also risky. The pond’s surface is choked with massive floating leaves, while sharp hidden needles guard the underwater stalks. As it is not easy to see through the murky water, workers have to move carefully and randomly feel along the muddy floor to find the seeds. This perilous labour frequently results in deep scratches on their arms and legs, or clothing trapped or torn by the thorns.

After enduring this for hours, her day is not yet over. She has to again take care of domestic chores and children.

Each day she goes through this grind – all for a meagre daily wage of just  Rs 250-300. In comparison, it costs anywhere between Rs 750-1200 to purchase a 1-kg packet of makhana in a retail shop.

It is this paradox that sits at the centre of Bihar’s booming makhana economy. Driven by growing health-consciousness and export opportunities, the demand for makhana has surged in recent years. The premium crop even received a Geographical Indication (GI) tag in 2022. Yet the women, whose labour sustains its most labour-intensive and skill-intensive stages, remain among its lowest-paid participants.

Cultivating disparity

According to Dr Manoj Kumar, scientist at the National Research Centre for Makhana in Darbhanga, Bihar produces nearly 85% of India's makhana, cultivating the crop across roughly 15,000 hectares and producing around 10,000 tonnes of popped makhana annually.

Thousands of families across north Bihar depend on the aquatic crop for their livelihoods. Historically, makhana cultivation has been concentrated among the Mallah (fishing) community and related sub-groups such as the Kol, Chaain and Vanpar, who have passed down specialised cultivation and processing skills for generations. Yet many of these communities remain economically vulnerable.

Dr. Sukhpal Singh, Professor and Former Chairperson, Centre for Management in Agriculture (CMA), IIM Ahmedabad, said that the inequality runs deeper than income alone. For women from traditionally marginalised fishing communities, it becomes what Dr. Singh calls a "double disadvantage", with caste and gender dynamics limiting their access to jobs, income, and decision-making.

The Makhana cultivation itself occurs in two ways. The older and more traditional system involves cultivating makhana in ponds, many of which are leased from cooperatives, the state government or private owners. Another, relatively newer, system involves cultivating makhana in shallow agricultural fields. The harvesting is generally done in 2 to 3 rounds.

Traditionally, women were concentrated in field-based cultivation, where shallow water made the work more accessible, and in the second harvest from ponds, when receding water levels made seed collection easier. Men generally handled the first pond harvest, which involves working in deeper water. But those distinctions are increasingly disappearing. As male migration rises and rural employment opportunities shrink, women are taking on almost every stage of makhana cultivation and processing.

“When men go outside, we have to handle everything – the pond as well as the home,” said Sunita Devi, another woman worker.

The women who keep the supply chain moving

If harvesting is tough, what follows is even tougher. After extraction, the seeds must be dried under the sun before being roasted and popped.

Dayi Ji Devi, a worker in Madhubani, explains the painstaking process. “The seeds must dry under strong sunlight for nearly five hours. They have to be turned continuously, otherwise they won't dry properly. They also have to be roasted the same day.”

It is exhausting work. Seeds are repeatedly heated inside clay furnaces before being popped within seconds. A moment's delay can ruin the batch.

“Our hands often get burnt,” said Daya ji Devi, “But we continue working.”

Dr Manoj Kumar explains that roasting temperatures can reach 250°C to 320°C. “Even a delay of a few seconds can affect quality,” he says. “This is a highly skilled process and women play a very important role in it.”

Researchers on makhana cultivation note that women contribute substantially to quality-sensitive activities such as processing, grading and post-harvest handling, but remain largely invisible within formal value chains.

The economic recognition of their skill remains limited.

Women workers consistently report earning Rs 250-300 per day, while men receive Rs 500-600. "The owners say men work more, so they get more money," said Manju. "But we also do all the work, from the pond to the furnace."

According to Dr Singh, such disparities are common across Indian agriculture wherever labour is paid on a daily wage basis. "Minimum wages are notified, but enforcement is weak," he said.

The challenge is compounded by limited alternatives. “There is no other work here apart from makhana,” said Manju, adding, “If we leave this also, how will we run our homes?” Ghudni Devi, another farmer, said, “We got work, and that itself is a big thing. If you ask for more money, the owner will simply remove you.”

Makhana is one of Bihar's more profitable diversification crops, particularly in flood-prone regions. Firstly, it generates nearly three times more employment per hectare compared to staple crops like paddy. Plus, it averages a Benefit-Cost Ratio (BCR) of 1.89, which means for every rupee invested, the farmer earns an additional Rs. 0.89 in profit. This too is higher than traditional cereal crops like paddy or maize.

But those returns are distributed unevenly across the value chain. Not just women, but small farmers too miss out on improving their incomes.

Pappu Shahani, a farmer, said contractors often buy their produce at Rs 300-400, while the same product reaches markets at much higher prices of around Rs 1,400–1,800. “The middlemen benefit the most from this system,” he said.

Another farmer, Rajesh Sahni, from Makranda, said, “We have neither market access nor the benefits of government schemes. Most benefits go only to bigger farmers and traders.”

Their troubles are exacerbated by the fact that they need to spend higher on leasing the land, which a larger farmer doesn’t need to. According to a local farmer Bindeshwari Malah, leasing a one-acre pond can cost between Rs 30,000 and Rs 50,000, while total cultivation expenses can rise to Rs 60,000–80,000. After nearly eight months of labour, the profit is barely Rs 25,000–Rs 30,000.

Meanwhile, Sahni said larger farmers with better access to land, capital, modern farming technology, and direct access to markets earn profits of at least Rs 2-3 lakh per acre.

Notably, despite this difference in earnings, the wages paid to women workers remain largely uniform across villages. “There is no significant difference in wage rates between small and large farmers. The daily wages of women and men workers in the village are fixed first and all farmers have to pay the same rate,” explained Sahni.

So, in both models, women are predominantly engaged in wage labour where their earnings are the lowest.

“The money is in the market, not the field," said Dr Singh. “The real value lies in branding, processing, packaging, distribution and retail. You may produce excellent quality, but unless you control the market, you capture very little of the value created.”

That imbalance is particularly striking in makhana. “While this problem persists across the agri value chain, the magnitude of the problem is higher here as it is such a high value crop. Despite companies minting money, the actual heroes and sheroes of the sector are not benefiting,” said Dr. Singh.

From workers to stakeholders

Research shows that limited market access, dependence on intermediaries and lack of processing infrastructure continue to restrict farmers’ ability to capture higher value.

Several farmers believe MSP could reduce dependence on traders. But Dr. Singh argued that announcing an MSP alone will achieve little unless it is backed by procurement.

He pointed to procurement models used for certain non-timber forest produce, where government agencies procure directly from producers at a fixed MSP before marketing the produce further. Likewise, he said, unless a public agency actually purchases makhana at the declared price, private traders have little reason to follow it.

Many women involved in makhana cultivation are members of Self-Help Groups (SHGs), originally designed to improve financial independence and collective bargaining.

“When labour is needed, the farmers and contractors approach the SHG directly and hire all of us together,” said Sunita Devi. This has made it easy for farmers and contractors to secure a large workforce at once. However, it is not always beneficial for the women.

But women say that being part of an SHG has not significantly improved their bargaining power. “We work together, but we cannot decide the wages,” Sunita said. “We accept whatever is offered.”

Others said they know little about the government schemes or opportunities available to registered SHGs. Chandrakala Devi, a member of a Self-Help Group (SHG), echoes the frustration. "We don't get any special benefit from government schemes. If the government was really helping us, our situation would not be like this."

The problem is not with SHGs themselves, said Dr Singh, but with what happens after they are formed.

Most groups receive little handholding to evolve into enterprises capable of processing, branding or marketing makhana. Without that support, they remain labour collectives rather than business collectives.

From workers to stakeholders

For Dr Singh, the solution lies in ownership rather than employment. He points to successful models such as Mahagrapes, Maharashtra's farmer-owned grape export cooperative, and Amul, where producers collectively own brands, processing facilities and marketing networks.

“The surplus generated by those organisations goes back to the producers because they own the institution.” That, Dr. Singh said, is fundamentally different from remaining wage labourers within someone else's business.

Likewise, by establishing and supporting SHGs, Farmer Producer Organisations (FPOs) and women-led cooperatives, it is possible to transform the role of women from mere workers to stakeholders. SHGs too can form federations, establish processing units, create wholesale brands and undertake packaging and marketing themselves. That is where the real value lies.

For now, across India and the world, makhana occupies the spot of a premium health-snack. But for women like Manju Devi, who have played a pivotal role in transforming makhana into a global product, little has changed. The true measure of makhana's success will not be how far the crop travels, but whether the women who built the industry are finally allowed to share in its journey.

Bina Kumari and Shruti Venkatesh are freelance journalists and a member of 101Reporters, a pan-India network of grassroots reporters.