For generations, the Ghonga river was the lifeblood of Belgahana village nestled in the heart of Chhattisgarh in Bilaspur district. Its sparkling waters meandered gracefully, nourishing fields, quenching thirst, and providing livelihood for countless families across 40 villages. Yet, by the mid-2000s, the river had turned into little more than a dry scar on land, threatening Belgahana’s culture, economy, and ecology.
Sarpanch Laxmi Kumar Jaiswal recalls how the river used to support the community’s culture, economy, and daily life. “Back in my younger days, the river was abundant and flowed generously,” Jaiswal says. “But today, the water level has fallen to a minor fraction, threatening our lives.” The plight of the Ghonga river underscores the urgent need for panchayat-based conservation, a cause placed by non-profit Nature People Network (NPN) at the forefront of its mission to help indigenous communities conserve critical landscapes.
The river’s decline began in 1980 with the construction of a dam (and a series of multiple check dams) by the Water Resources Department to boost irrigation, which inadvertently became a threat to the river. It inevitably altered the river’s flow, disrupting the migration patterns of aquatic species and shifting the water temperature. The dam, now 17.88 metres high and stretching 720 metres across, stands as a testament to both the promise and the complexity of a miscalculated progress.
The once-perennial river was reduced to a feeble trickle as irrigation canals siphoned off its water. Further, years of unchecked stone quarrying in river watersheds cut off the vital pulse of the water that sustained the river flow of Ghongha. Although the dams successfully addressed immediate water-intensive crop needs, they consequently disrupted the delicate balance of the river’s ecosystem. The village faced a bleak future. The Patels, the primary farming community in Belgahana, heavily reliant on growing vegetables, saw their crop yields dwindle. The traditional practice of drawing water from makeshift wells, known locally as ‘Dodhi,’ became impossible as the water table dropped. The once-thriving agricultural economy of Belgahana was reduced to subsistence farming, with high emigration of the youth in search of employment.
Amid the crisis, a quiet revolution flickered. Standing on the cracked riverbed, Jugni Bai Patel, the leader of the local women self-help group (SHG), and Jaiswal made a decision: Ghongha must flow again. Communicating with Shreyansh Budhia and partnering with his grassroots non-profit NPN, the trio set about doing what the community had not imagined could be done using pre-existing rights at the panchayat’s disposal.
“When the river dried up, it was the women who suffered most—walking to a neighbouring village for water,” recalls Jugni. “Today, they are Ghongha’s fiercest guardians.” The women SHG, alongside the Gram Panchayat and NPN, now lead the river revival — patrolling, mobilising villagers, and spreading awareness. While the SHG and panchayat members organised community action, NPN educated locals on their Panchayati Raj rights, including the Gram Panchayat’s authority over natural resource conservation. Empowered by this knowledge, they convened a Gram Sabha and drafted a constitution declaring Ghongha a Gram Panchayat River Sanctuary — amongst India’s firsts, alongside Rajasthan’s Arvari river model. Now legally recognised, the sanctuary protects the river and its riparian buffer through a grassroots mandate.
The sanctuary’s restoration model is rooted in community participation, led by local women SHG leaders. It emphasises empowering women to manage natural resources and assert their legislative rights. In Belgahana, this meant mobilising the entire community through SHGs.
As conversations deepened, so did local commitment. NPN held workshops to raise awareness about river ecology, dam impacts, and community-led solutions. These efforts didn’t just inform: They inspired action, leading to broad, unanimous support for conservation.
“The Gram Panchayat River Sanctuary is more than just a conservation area; it’s a symbol of the community’s resolve,” says NPN’s Shreyansh Budhia. “We’ve started identifying areas to reforest along the riverbanks, methods to promote sustainable farming, and avenues to support door-to-door plastic waste collection under a zero-waste policy.” Replanting native tree species along the once-barren banks remains central to the restoration plan. In addition to these ecological measures, the community has also planned steps to address the social and economic challenges posed by the river’s decline.
Belgahana’s battle to save the Ghogha hasn’t gone unnoticed. Citizen groups have stepped in and extended their help to address the village’s healthcare needs. Earlier this year, free medical camps popped up as hubs of healing, treating everything from acute inflammations to lingering chronic conditions. These health camps have also successfully gathered essential blood sugar and blood pressure data that, in turn, can be used to inform regional government healthcare policy.
The community’s efforts soon caught the attention of local authorities. By April 2024, departments like irrigation, horticulture, and fisheries began channeling welfare schemes into Belgahana. A waste management facility—the first in the region—was set up, employing SHG women and linking conservation with livelihoods. Later, a horticulture unit was also launched, offering permanent jobs in fruit cultivation.
Belgahana has become a living lab, drawing interest from universities and researchers across fields like ecology, sociology, and healthcare. Students are exploring topics from endangered aquatic species to nutrition and conservation dynamics. “Studying local diets and views on wildlife conservation is a promising topic,” says Sudhanshu Tiwari, a forestry student at Guru Ghasidas University. These studies aim to bridge key knowledge gaps on resource use and community resilience.
Inspired by Belgahana’s success, neighboring villages Barar and Bhakura-Nawapara have launched their conservation efforts. By December 2024, both passed legal resolutions and began holding Gram Sabhas with guidance from Belgahana’s leaders. The movement, supported by local panchayats, Jugni Bai, the people of Belgahana, NPN, and activists, marks the rise of a region-wide, community-driven conservation wave.
While the Ghongha is still recovering, people today are hopeful. Water levels are expected to rise with ongoing restoration, and villagers hope to once again draw from Dodhi wells and grow vegetables. More importantly, the community is reconnecting with the river and with one another. The Gram Panchayat River Sanctuary now stands as a testament to their collective strength and a model for others.
As the Ghongha River slowly returns to life, it reminds us that rivers are lifelines — sustaining both nature and culture. Belgahana’s story is one of hope, resilience, and collective action — a model worth sharing before more rivers reach the point of no return.
Anushka Ubhegaonkar is a student of Environmental Sciences, Mansarovar Global University, Sehore, Bhopal
Sushanta Kumar Mahapatra is a faculty member at the Department of Economics, Faculty of Social Sciences, IBS Hyderabad Campus, Hyderabad
Views expressed are the authors’ own and don’t necessarily reflect those of Down To Earth