The solutions are already germinating in the fields and forests; all that is needed is the will to nurture them. Let us not wait until the last seed disappears and the last forest burns.
By Amooru Harika
The signs are everywhere – vanishing crop varieties, shifting forest compositions, declining soil fertility, and seasonal chaos. In Anuppur district of Madhya Pradesh, these changes are not theoretical. They are visible, experienced, and deeply worrying. Climate change, long considered a distant threat, is now reconfiguring the ecological and agricultural systems on which local communities depend. The vulnerability of forests and agro-biodiversity in this region speaks to a broader pattern that must be urgently addressed – not just with data, but with decisive, inclusive action.
Climate change is exerting a profound impact on both agriculture and the environment in the Kotma region. The irregularity in rainfall patterns, a hallmark of changing climate, has resulted in direct consequences for both agricultural and forest production. Insufficient rainfall, in particular, has taken a toll on crop yields, affecting staple crops such as rice, wheat, and maize, as well as the lac cultivation. The availability of water resources, including dams, rivers, and ponds, has been strained by low rainfall. As a result, water stress has become a pressing concern, with these vital sources facing significant depletion. The effects of these climatic shifts were further illuminated through a comprehensive field survey and questionnaire conducted among the local population.
Farmers and forest dwellers in Anuppur have, for decades, cultivated and protected a rich mosaic of biological diversity. The area boasts a variety of traditional crop varieties, a lush forest ecosystem, and indigenous knowledge systems that ensure sustainable coexistence with nature. But this delicate balance is under siege. Changing temperature patterns, rainfall irregularities, and unpredictable seasonal cycles are disturbing the equilibrium of both cultivated lands and natural forests. The effect is not abstract; it is visible in the shrinking food baskets, drying water sources, and thinning forest canopies.
Traditional food crops like kodo and kutki are nearing extinction, with kodo millet production decreasing by 75 per cent over the past four to five years. Paspalum scrobiculatum (kodo) cultivation has suffered, and it is no longer considered a primary food crop. Additionally, freshwater fishery has become exceedingly challenging due to water stress in rivers, ponds, dams, and lakes. Local communities have been grappling with dwindling fish production in these water bodies in recent years.
The data collected from multiple panchayats in the region paints a sobering picture. In areas such as Dhangwan, Laharpur, and Boridand, over 40 per cent of farmers surveyed reported a drastic decrease in crop diversity in the past decade. Traditional varieties of rice, millets, pulses, and vegetables are fast disappearing. Instead, hybrid and genetically modified seeds have taken their place, promising higher yields but often at the cost of nutritional content, resilience, and local adaptability. The age-old biodiversity is being replaced by monocultures driven by market forces and climate stress. This transformation not only affects food security but also reduces the resilience of the agro-ecosystem to future shocks.
Changes in Rainfall Patterns
The shift in cropping patterns has come with other costs. Farmers have reported that these hybrid varieties require more chemical inputs and water, increasing both the cost of cultivation and the vulnerability of the land to drought and nutrient loss. Traditional crops like kodo, kutki, urad, arhar, and matar (millets, dals and peas), known for their hardiness and minimal input needs, are being abandoned because of lower market demand and climate-induced yield fluctuations. Yet these very crops could be part of the solution for sustainable agriculture in an era of uncertainty.
Meanwhile, the forest ecosystem is showing signs of acute stress. Respondents from Kotma and Pushparajgarh blocks observed noticeable shifts in forest flora and fauna. Forest-dwelling communities reported changes in the availability of forest produce such as medicinal plants, wild fruits, and other minor forest products. One disturbing trend noted by many is the invasion of non-native species in forested areas, gradually replacing traditional flora. Forest fires, previously rare and contained, are now more frequent and severe, with villagers attributing their rise to increasing temperatures and extended dry spells. These fires not only destroy biomass but also disrupt wildlife habitats, carbon cycles, and the traditional rhythms of forest collection.
These impacts are compounded by changes in rainfall patterns. In the last five years, the onset and withdrawal of the monsoon have become erratic. Farmers in Rajendragram and Bijuri narrated how this has not only affected the sowing and harvesting periods but also the germination rates of native seeds. Crops that were once timed perfectly to seasonal rains now suffer from either excess moisture or prolonged dry spells. This has forced farmers to abandon time-tested agricultural calendars and adopt risky practices without adequate information or support.
Undermining Traditional Coping Mechanisms
The consequences of this transition are deeply gendered. The women of these communities –often the custodians of seed banks and traditional ecological knowledge – are bearing a disproportionate burden. Many testified that their roles in collecting forest produce, preserving seeds, and managing household nutrition have become more laborious and less rewarding. Forest degradation, driven by climate-induced pressures, is forcing them to travel farther and invest more time in resource collection, impacting their overall wellbeing and reducing time for other economic or social activities. This added burden goes largely unacknowledged in mainstream climate adaptation policies.
What makes Anuppur’s case especially alarming is how these environmental shifts are undermining traditional coping mechanisms. The people here have always been resilient. They rotate crops, preserve native seed varieties, and maintain intimate knowledge of forest cycles. But climate change is moving faster than these systems can adapt. In interviews and group discussions, elders repeatedly stressed how even the wisdom passed down through generations is falling short in predicting seasonal behaviour or choosing the right sowing period.
And yet, adaptation has not ceased. Farmers are experimenting with intercropping, organic fertilizers, and water conservation practices. There is a visible effort to shift from resource-intensive crops to drought-resistant varieties where possible. NGOs and local institutions have facilitated the reintroduction of some lost seed varieties and supported training programs for sustainable practices. However, without systemic support – from both state and central governments – these efforts remain insufficient. A comprehensive climate-resilient development model is yet to emerge for Anuppur.
Community-based Climate Adaptation
The conversation around climate change often centres on global summits, national policies, or scientific models. But the real story is being written in villages like those in Anuppur, where people are losing not just livelihoods, but cultural memory and ecological identity. When a traditional seed is lost, it is not just a plant that vanishes; it is a repository of history, nutrition, and survival. Similarly, when a patch of forest becomes unproductive, a whole way of life is disrupted – from medicine and food to rituals and relationships with nature.
In examining the broader pattern, the findings from Anuppur echo what has been observed in other forest-dependent and agro-ecological regions across India. Climate change does not act in isolation. It intersects with socio-economic vulnerabilities, poor policy implementation, and a growing disconnect between governance and grassroots needs. Subsidies often favour high-yielding commercial crops rather than native ones. Forest policies rarely involve local communities in decision-making. These systemic issues must be addressed if any meaningful adaptation is to occur.
One solution lies in empowering community-based climate adaptation. Policies that incentivise traditional seed preservation, promote agroforestry, and protect forest commons must be prioritised. Similarly, local ecological knowledge – particularly that of tribal women – needs institutional recognition and support. Research institutions should work in tandem with these communities to document disappearing varieties and assess climate-resilient traits. Public investment in storage infrastructure, local seed banks, and market access for traditional crops can also help reverse the trend of biodiversity loss.
Invest in Localised Climate Research
There is also an urgent need to invest in localised climate research. District-level climate models, soil quality tracking, and water table assessments can provide the data needed for more context-specific interventions. Education and capacity-building initiatives should focus not just on mitigation but on practical, day-to-day resilience-building for farmers and forest dwellers. Community seed fairs, forest monitoring by locals, and farmer-field schools can all play a role in reviving and strengthening agro-biodiversity.
In conclusion, the Anuppur case study is not just an alarm bell; it is a window into a future we must avoid. The loss of agrobiodiversity and forest health due to climate change is not just an environmental issue, it is a socio-economic, cultural, and existential crisis. We are witnessing the erosion of ecological memory, the breakdown of adaptive practices, and the marginalisation of communities who have historically been stewards of biodiversity. These losses are irreversible unless met with urgency and accountability.
If Anuppur is to thrive once more, a renewed vision of development is required – one that places ecological sustainability, cultural wisdom, and climate resilience at its core. The solutions are already germinating in the fields and forests; all that is needed is the will to nurture them. Let us not wait until the last seed disappears and the last forest burns.
This piece has been extracted from the internship report submitted by the author as part of the Abhijit Sen Rural Internship programme of National Foundation for India (NFI).
