As a researcher looking at a community that has an indelible relationship with water, it has been enlightening to learn the myriad ways in which water and river systems have defined people’s livelihoods, brought about deluges and disasters, and, importantly, helped people add meaning to their identities.

The Kaibartas have lived in Assam for over 7000 years (Hazarika, 2016). Colonial texts like William Robinson’s A Descriptive Account of Assam (1841) state that Kaibartas or Jaluya Keyots are fishermen. The Brittial Bania, Kaibarta, Namasudra and Hira in the Assam valley and the Patnis, Malis, Sutradhar and Namasudra in the Surma valley have been considered as castes of low status (Sarma, 2010). However, existing scholarship on the Kaibartas and insights from fieldwork conducted in two districts of Assam, Nagaon and Nalbari, hint at the fact that Kaibartas are beginning to diversify their livelihoods by taking up other professions like agriculture and casual labour work alongside fishing. A section of them are also choosing to completely exit their traditional livelihood. Living with floods has become a way of life for the Kaibartas of Assam.

Learnings from the field, acquired from April 2023 to September 2024, show that a multitude of factors, like ecological changes in the river systems leading to less fish stock, recurrent episodes of floods, competition in fishing from non-traditional groups, and changing ownership of rivers and wetlands, have interacted to cause the Kaibartas to grow disconnected from fishing.

Growing up in the city of Guwahati (in Assam, India), on the banks of the river Brahmaputra, I was aware of the magnanimity and wide influence of the river system on not just the economy and trade but also the cultural landscape and identity of the Assamese people as a whole. But closely looking at the Kaibartas of Assam gave me a nuanced understanding of the intimate ways in which water is connected to people.

This photo essay is based on an ethnographic research work based in two districts of Assam, a state in India. The research aims to understand the persistence of economic insecurity amidst livelihood diversification among the Kaibartas, a traditional fishing community that inhabits regions close to rivers and wetlands in Assam. The community also has Scheduled Caste (SC)status, by virtue of which they enjoy distributive privileges like reservation in jobs and education.

Regarding the fish sale variation in a week, a fish trader says,

‘Aji deubar, bojar bhal, grahok besi. Sombar aru brihaspati bare manuh kom thake bojarot. Sombare aru brihaspati bare manuhe mas besi nakhai.’(Today is Sunday, the market is bustling with many customers. On Mondays and Thursdays there are less customers as people do not consume fish on these days.)

Describing about the change in wetland ecology, a participant says,

‘Beel bur soloni hoise. Sepi sepi ahise beel bur. Beel or parot kheti kore. Kheti korile onumoti nalage. Koni para samayot ujai ahe, koni pora pisot bhotiya jai. Baanpani homoiyot boga mas, nodir mas ahe. Ajikali sarkare bund bonaise, nodir mas nusumai’ (The wetlands have become narrower now, as people practice agriculture near it, which doesn’t require permission from Mahaldars. Earlier fish spawning took place during floods, but now the government has built bundhs on wetlands that prevents river fish from entering it).

Explaining about the role women have when their husbands go fishing, a participant says,

‘Purushe mas marile, nodi parole jao. Nao pora paroloi anu. Eu jal khon nao ot tulu te, sopai diu. Sahay sarathi kori diu aru. Proti bosore jal besu. Manuhe nibole ahe, Miya Asomiya ahe’. (We go to the river banks and help in loading unloading of fishing nets and other fishing equipment onto boats. In addition to this, we weave and sell nets. Miyas and Asomiyas buy nets from us).

Reminiscing about the changes noticed over the years, a key informant said that,

‘Moi eta samayat emaan mas maru. Moi mas nakhao, kintu mas mora mur emane priyo, moi mane Brahmaputra pani humai gol, mur original ghorot, Hariamukh khon mur ghoror pora arombho. Mur ghoror pis phale beel, ghawoni pothar, borokhi tu pelao. Eta samayat sollis joni puthi mas dhorisu, cheni puthi. Etiya dekhibole nai.’(Once upon a time, I fished a lot. Even though I do not like consuming fish, but fishing is my hobby. The Hariamukh village begins from my house. In the open fields behind my house, whenever Brahmaputra water used to enter, I would dip my fishing rod and catch upto 40 puthi or dwarf barb fish and cheni puthi fish. Now we can’t find those fish species.)

The Kaibartas hold the government responsible for their fishing activity reducing since the past few years. One participant mentions that,

‘Sarkaror gaat dukh ase agote mas 12 mahe maribo subidha asil. Eku badha nasil. Beel khal bur etiya sarkarikoron kori lessee uporot di diye. Tax or karone. Lessee khini e jak bhal lage maribo dibo pare, nidibou pare. Ekhon buwoti nodi khuti bilakot mas pua jai. Hei mas khini pabole, ji bure besi poisa diye bhal thait suboni diye, besi mas pai. Dhoni buror subidha hoi. Ekekhon nodite jega loiu kotha ase’ ( since the government has taken control of wetlands and rivers and responsibility has been assigned to lessee to govern it, the lessees control who get to fish in these water bodies, people who can pay more get control of areas in a river where more fish could be caught).

The importance of river systems in Nagaon district is explained by a key informant as,

‘Nagaon leke water transport asil Raha r pora. Mur Maa e kua hunisilu, raha te naot uthisil, Raha mane nodir karne bikhyat. Kolong, Kopili, Haria, Titaimora aru barpani.’(The water transport was an important mode of travel between Raha and Nagaon town. I used to hear from my mother about traveling in a boat in that route. Raha is famous for the five rivers, Kolong, Kopili, Haria, Titaimora and Barpani.)

Kaibarta women in Hariamukh feel that a change in the river has discouraged them from fishing on it. They said that,

‘Ajikali nadit gora-khohoniya hoi, manuh porile nabase, bhoi hoise mohila jabo’ (Since there is frequent river bank erosion, women fear going fishing).

A participant in Niztapa, Nalbari explains about the reduction in fish stock by saying that,

‘Mas komise. Sob pukhuri. Kapla beel mara gol, bouta mara gol. Sob pukhuri khandi thoise. Pani oha jua nai. Etiya olop pani ase barisha karne.’ (The fish has reduced. Now everywhere there are ponds. The Kapla beel is silted, so is Bouta beel. Everywhere people are digging ponds. There is no place for movement of water. Now there is some water due to monsoons.)

The respondents feel that diversification of livelihoods is necessary for their survival, as a participant says that

‘Okol mas mari solibo nuaru’ (we cannot make do with only fishing).

References:

Sarma, C. 2010. The Kaibartas. Directorate of Assam Institute of Research for Tribals and Scheduled Castes

Hazarika, P. 2016. The Lost Glory of Kaibartas in Assam. Purbanchal Prakash