Last year, we visited a village, Piparabanda in the Ormanjhi block of Ranchi, around thirty kilometers from Ranchi, as part of a rural camp with twenty-seven students. We stayed in that village for thirty days, three times, ten days during each camp as part of rural field exposure. It was a beautiful village, with 96-98 households inhabited by the Munda tribe along with 2-3 Mahto families, surrounded by lush green forests. The villagers were very simple, humble, and polite, which made our stay comfortable and enriching.
We were impressed by everything, the people, surroundings, and scenic beauty. During our stay, I received a call from my friends from Rotary and casually mentioned Piparabanda, its people, their way of life, and the stunning natural beauty surrounding the village. They were impressed and expressed their willingness to visit. I spoke with the villagers, who warmly welcomed the idea. Soon after, our friends visited, and we met with the village elders and community members. Towards the end, a friend from Rotary asked the villagers, ‘What can we do for you?’ The villagers, responded, ‘Nothing, we have everything.’
It was surprising for us. Two thoughts immediately crossed my mind. First, why do we assume that the villagers need something? Second, will our offer of help improve their lives? Their humble response made us realize how wrong we were in our perceptions. Often, we forget that people can be happy with the minimum resources they have. They know about their needs.
The government is helping villagers by providing various schemes. Some of them are reaching and many are not. The government has implemented schemes in the village under the Har Ghar Nal Jal Yojana. Pipes were installed to provide a regular water supply. However, the project was not completed when the contractor abandoned it without constructing the water tank. Despite this, they did not complain or express their frustration or disappointment.
Another instance further deepened our respect for the villagers’ self-sufficiency and wisdom. During one of the discussions, the students asked the villagers about their problems, and what solutions might be helpful. Interestingly, it was difficult for villagers to identify a problem. They had never considered their lives in terms of ‘problems’ and ‘solutions.’ Nevertheless, students identified a few issues, such as livelihood, market linkages, etc., to continue the discussion and find solutions. One of the students suggested that they could set up a leaf-plate-making unit. The idea was to collect leaves from the forest, make plates, and sell them in nearby markets, thus generating additional income. On this suggestion, the village religious head, Pahan Jee objected and said, ‘It is not a good idea as it would ruin the eco-system’. He explained that while the idea may sound beneficial, it would harm the ecosystem in the long run. Plucking leaves from the trees would eventually kill them, leading to the destruction of the forest. This was a profound moment for all of us, as it highlighted the deep connection the villagers had with their environment. Unlike outsiders, who often propose solutions without fully understanding the local context, the villagers had a holistic understanding of their ecosystem and its importance to their way of life.
This experience reminded us of another insightful conversation with a village woman who said, “People become poor because our water bodies, forests, and land are becoming poorer. If we lose our water bodies, forests, and soil fertility, we will also become poor.” Her words stayed with me. Her deep understanding of sustainability and the root cause of poverty made it clear that the solution to poverty is not external intervention but the preservation of the environment.
The villagers of Piparabanda taught us that true contentment and wisdom often come from living in harmony with nature. Their self-sufficiency and deep understanding of sustainability challenge the common belief that material wealth or external intervention is essential for happiness, reminding us to respect and learn from local knowledge. These experiences taught us that sometimes the best way to help is to do nothing—except to listen, observe, and appreciate the wisdom of those who live close to nature.
The author is a Professor at Xavier Institute of Social Service, Ranchi. The views expressed are personal. Email: pandeyanant@hotmail.com
