Bonphool: Chapter 2 – Genesis of an Idea

After serving in different regions of West Bengal, I was posted as the Divisional Forest Officer (DFO), South 24 Parganas. Soon after taking charge on 14th August 2018, I began touring the division extensively. Unlike any other place I had worked before, the field of work in this division extended across both on land and water. Reaching many forest-fringe villages in Sundarbans required hours of travel by road followed by long journeys through rivers and creeks by boat. Life here revolved around the tides, and so did the work of the Forest Department.

The Sundarbans attracts tourists from across the world who come to experience its unique mangrove forests and catch a glimpse of the Royal Bengal Tiger. During one of my field visits, I discovered that tourist boats were entering a restricted area where tourism was not permitted. Local groups were collecting entry fees from tourists without any authorization from the Forest Department.

When I stopped the activity, the reaction was immediate. Rumours spread that the Forest Department was trying to destroy local livelihoods. Villagers became agitated, and some local leaders openly declared that they would not cooperate with the department unless the DFO was removed.

The situation became serious enough for senior officers and me to hold a meeting with the villagers at Jharkhali. We explained that the department was not against tourism, but that tourism had to be conducted within legal and ecological limits. The discussions were intense, but gradually the villagers understood our concerns and the tension eased.

Meeting with villagers at Jharkhali to discuss unauthorized tourism in a restricted area of the Sundarbans. Shri Pranab Mondal, one of the most vocal participants in the discussion, would later become a key partner in shaping the Bonphool initiative.

One of the most vocal critics during the meeting was a local leader, Pranab Mondal. Interestingly, after the issue was resolved, he became one of my closest allies. Thereafter, I involved him in village meetings and discussions whenever developmental issues were taken up.

During one such conversation, I asked him a simple question: "What kind of livelihood initiative would genuinely help the people of the Sundarbans?"

His answer was immediate. He said that many livelihood programmes had been introduced over the years, but most failed because they were not aligned with local realities. Villagers would find it difficult to adopt entirely new occupations. However, there was one activity with which everyone was familiar.

Every year, beekeepers from North 24 Parganas brought apiary boxes to the Sundarbans and kept them in villagers' backyards during the flowering season. People had grown up watching honey collection and processing. He felt that if any livelihood intervention could succeed in the Sundarbans, it would be one related to beekeeping.

His suggestion struck me instantly. It was simple, practical and rooted in local experience. That conversation became the starting point for a livelihood initiative based on scientific beekeeping.

The need was obvious. Every year, honey collectors entered the mangrove forests in search of wild honey, risking attacks from tigers and other dangers. For many families, it was a gamble between livelihood and survival. Perhaps for this reason that wild honey from the Sundarbans is often called "blood honey."

I started developing a plan to reduce the dependence of honey collectors on the forests and transform "blood honey" into "sweet honey." Convincing traditional honey collectors to adopt beekeeping was not easy. Yet their familiarity with bees and honey made the transition possible. What began as a conversation in a village gradually evolved into an idea that offered a safer and more sustainable source of income.

Looking back, the advice given by Pranab Mondal proved invaluable. The very person who had once demanded my removal became a key contributor to one of the most meaningful livelihood initiatives undertaken in the region.

The experience taught me an important lesson. Development is not created in offices; it is discovered in the field. Local leaders and community representatives may not always possess formal education or technical expertise, but they often understand their communities better than anyone else. Some of the best ideas emerge simply by listening.

(To be continued...)