Kerala's widespread civet "menace" may be an indication of the flaws in the way in which its cities were developed.
While wooden buildings have been concretised to tackle the problem, the mammals have adapted well to these structures as well.
These small animals have been wrongly portrayed in folklore as baby hunters and harbingers of bad luck, leading to them being killed as pests.
Conservationists urge people to not villify civets and prioritise green corridors in urban planning.
On Tuesday morning, the Kerala High Court witnessed an unusual adjournment. The division bench led by Chief Justice Nitin Jamdar and Justice Basant Balaji cut short proceedings even before they began, not because of a legal standoff, but because the courtroom reeked of civet urine. Ceiling ducts had to be scrubbed clean after an Asian palm civet (Paradoxurus hermaphroditus), a nocturnal mammal better known for its role in producing the world’s most expensive coffee, prowled through the rafters overnight.
Forest personnel captured one animal, but officials suspect more are hiding within the century-old building, which stands close to Kochi’s Mangalavanam Bird Sanctuary. For lawyers, it was a bizarre disruption, but for Kerala’s political class and ordinary citizens, it was all too familiar: The state is in the grip of an intensifying conflict with civets.
Anyone living under Kerala’s tiled roofs knows the signs. The sounds of faint scrabbling overhead, sudden thuds, territorial shrieks and the dreaded seep of pungent liquid through wooden rafters are all well-known signs.
This is the shared reality of Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan, Opposition Leader VD Satheesan and even cabinet colleagues in Thiruvananthapuram. Their official residences such as Cliff House, Manmohan Bungalow, Xanadu, Rose House and Contentment House are as much ruled by civets as by their political occupants.
Once, after civets urinated into vessels at Cliff House, Vijayan instructed his staff to cover the drinking water. Clothes are frequently ruined, and even former governor Arif Mohammed Khan temporarily abandoned Raj Bhavan for a hotel after months of sleepless nights caused by attic fights.
The nuisance has grown so acute that the state recently earmarked Rs 49 lakh to “civet-proof” official residences, replacing wooden lofts and tiled roofs with concrete slabs. Many of these heritage structures, the Public Works Department admits, were built in the pre-Independence era, with ample attic space that now serves as shelter for the animals.
However, the crisis extends beyond VIP quarters. Calls pour into the forest department every day from homes, schools, offices and apartment blocks across Thiruvananthapuram, Kochi, Kozhikode, Thrissur, Kollam and Kannur.
Wildlife experts trace the surge to fragmented forests and vanishing tree cover. “Displaced from their natural habitats, civets find refuge in false ceilings, air ducts and balconies,” explained Anitha Santhi, coordinator of the Thiruvananthapuram-based environmental collective Tree Walk.
The Asian palm civet, or toddy cat, is a protected species under Indian law. Weighing barely 3-4 kilogrammes, it feeds largely on fruits, insects and small animals, dispersing seeds that help regenerate forests. Yet folklore has demonised it: Civets are wrongly believed to abduct babies or bring misfortune and are often beaten, poisoned or hunted for meat.
When Vijayan raised the civet menace in the Assembly last year, critics alleged it was a pretext for lavish renovations. Documents revealed that Cliff House alone spent Rs 1.85 crore in two and a half years on a new cattle shed, staff quarters and now "civet-proofing". Opposition leaders mocked the chief minister, with Youth Congress president Rahul Mankoottathil joking that the fearless civets of Cliff House deserved the home portfolio.
Conservationists argue that the irony is that civets are simultaneously ecological allies and urban "pests". Their droppings in the wild help produce the luxury coffee Kopi Luwak in Coorg, while in Kerala, they are chased from rooftops with sticks. “Trapping and releasing civets only gives temporary relief. The real solution lies in restoring green corridors and habitats,” said conservationist Thomas Lawrence.
Meanwhile, the animals have adapted with remarkable resilience, shifting from traditional wooden homes to concrete apartments and even high-rise ducts. Their persistence underscores both their survival instincts and the extent of Kerala’s habitat loss.
Even outsiders have not been spared. In 2019, Congress leader Priyanka Gandhi endured a sleepless night in a government guest house in Kozhikode thanks to a civet fight in the attic above her room.
From disrupting court proceedings to haunting the residences of Kerala’s most powerful politicians, civets have become part of the state’s civic imagination. For conservationists, the message is clear: Kerala must stop vilifying these nocturnal mammals and instead reimagine urban planning, protect green corridors and educate the public about their ecological importance.
Until then, the scurrying of civet feet across attics will continue to remind even the mighty that some battles are fought not in courts or assemblies, but in the restless hours of the night.
Alka Elizabeth is an independent journalist based out of Thiruvananthapuram. Views expressed are the author’s own and don’t necessarily reflect those of Down To Earth.