Archana Roy steps into the shallow water of the Haiderpur wetland every morning with a sickle in her hand and a cloth bag over her shoulder. I watch as she bends low, parts the floating leaves and pulls out a bunch of tender greens.
“This is helencha shak,” she tells me, holding it up. “My mother cooked this. Now I cook it for my children.”
She is not here to watch birds or admire the landscape. She is here for food.
Archana lives in Nawalpur village near Haiderpur wetland in Uttar Pradesh. Though her family grows rice and wheat, much of their food comes free from the wetland. For her, it is not an ecosystem, it is her kitchen.
Uttar Pradesh, India’s most populous state, has one of the country’s richest wetland networks, covering about 4 per cent of its land, mostly river-based. It has ten Ramsar Sites including Nawabganj Bird Sanctuary, Parvati Agra Bird Sanctuary, Saman Bird Sanctuary, Samaspur Bird Sanctuary, Sandi Bird Sanctuary, Sarsai Nawar Jheel, Sur Sarovar, Upper Ganga River and Haiderpur wetland.
But as I learn while travelling through this landscape, recognition has not always meant protection.
Satellite studies show that between 2010 and 2018, Uttar Pradesh lost nearly 2.5 lakh hectares (0.25 million hectares) of wetlands, about 20 per cent, as natural wetlands declined and many floodplains and marshes were filled, polluted or converted, while ponds and reservoirs increased.
To understand what this loss means on the ground, I came to Haiderpur.
Haiderpur lies near the Bijnor Barrage on the Ganga and formed after the Madhya Ganga Barrage was built in 1984. Spread over nearly 69 sq. km, it lies within Hastinapur Wildlife Sanctuary and became India’s 47th Ramsar Site in 2021.
Locally, people call it Barragewali Jheel.
Standing at its edge, I see how water from the Ganga spreads into deep pools, shallow flooded land and slow-moving channels, interspersed with grasslands where birds nest and animals forage.
More than 25,000 waterbirds depend on this wetland. I spot greylag and bar-headed geese, ducks and waders, along with threatened breeders like the Indian skimmer, black-bellied tern, bronze-winged jacana, sarus crane and steppe eagle.
Haiderpur is also home to wild cats, wild boar, spotted deer, leopards, snakes, mugger crocodiles and gharials. Gangetic river dolphins, turtles and golden mahseer fish depend on its waters. For them, this wetland is survival.
What I see next is that Haiderpur is as much a working landscape as a wild one.
Villages surround the wetland. People fish, graze cattle, grow crops and collect plants from its waters. Sugarcane, wheat, vegetables and fruits depend on wetland water, while grasses become fodder and poplar and eucalyptus support plywood industries.
One of the most important crops here is Singhara, or water chestnut. Farmers, many from West Bengal, grow it over nearly nine square kilometres of the wetland, where dense mats of floating plants cover the water.
The plant blooms between August and October and is harvested from October to December. Yields average about four tonnes per hectare, earning farmers nearly Rs 1.5 lakh per acre.
The nuts are taken to markets in Bijnor and Muzaffarnagar and then to cities. Rich in starch, fibre, vitamins and minerals, Singhara is eaten raw or boiled and is a major livelihood for many families.
Back in Nawalpur, Archana shows me other plants she collects, such as malancha shak and kolmi saag (water spinach), which grow in shallow water year-round, especially during the monsoon.
Helencha shak is slightly bitter and believed to help control blood sugar. It is cooked with potatoes and fish, made into pakodas (fritters) or curry. Kolmi saag is fried or cooked as a soft dish and given to pregnant women to improve milk flow. Malancha shak is cooked as bhujia or curry and is believed to purify blood.
These plants are mostly collected by women, who wade into the wetland or use small boats. At home, the greens are cleaned and cooked with basic spices and eaten with rice, dal or fish curry.
These foods are not just everyday meals; they are also part of festivals. During a yearly prayer, Archana’s community prepares a special khichdi with chickpeas and coconut, using freshly collected wetland greens.
But Archana tells me that it is becoming harder to find these plants.
“Nearby wetlands are full of garbage,” she says. “Some are covered with water hyacinth. Some are polluted by chemicals from farms.”
She also notices that younger people prefer packaged food. “They eat this,” she says, pointing to the greens, “but they like Maggi and momos more.”
The tradition continues, but its future now depends on both wetland health and generational choice.
In nearby Daranagarganj village, wetland plants are eaten only occasionally. Mridula, 28, an Anganwadi teacher, lives with her parents and brothers. Their rice and wheat fields flood often, damaging crops. To supplement their food and income, they collect taro leaves, water spinach and other greens from wetlands, and sell some in local markets.
Kavita Devi, 43, recalls collecting bathua from wetland banks, a variety that grows year-round. Leelo, 74, tells me that kana saag has been a family staple for generations.
“I fed my five sons with it,” she says. “Now I feed my grandsons.”
Experts I speak to say this traditional knowledge needs urgent documentation. Across Uttar Pradesh, people eat lotus tubers, water lily fruits, Sagittaria species and Ludwigia leaves. Some plants are used to heal wounds. Others are eaten during fasting or religious rituals.
Wetlands also provide resources that exist nowhere else. In Gonda district, a traditional rice variety called tinni ka chawal grows in wetlands and is eaten during fasting. Wetlands supply kabismitti, a special coloured clay used for pottery and wall colouring.
These are not side benefits. They are core to local culture.
Yet, as I move through Haiderpur, the pressures are also visible.
When water levels drop, thousands of cattle enter the wetland to graze. Grasslands are sometimes burnt. Fishing continues day and night, often using harmful methods that affect fish populations and otters. Waste dumping, chemical runoff and encroachment are common.
Local conservationists told me that government action has largely focused on managing tourists like setting up check posts, charging entry fees but not on controlling ecological damage.
Still, there are signs of hope.
Uttar Pradesh has increased its Ramsar Sites from two to ten, signalling growing recognition of wetland value. These sites have legal protection, and land-use change within their boundaries is limited.
While climate change and flooding remain serious threats, Ramsar designation offers a better chance of survival.
The Upper Ganga Ramsar Site protects an 85-kilometre stretch of the river, sheltering dolphins, gharials, turtles, otters, fish and over a hundred bird species, along with more than 400 plant species. Sacred groves and religious sites within it are safeguarded by priests and sadhus.
On World Wetlands Day, February 2, Haiderpur and other wetlands of Uttar Pradesh remind us that wetlands are not wastelands. They are living systems that provide food, water, income, culture and life itself.
To find out more about CSE's work on food systems based in wetlands, please click here