By Lu Chi
Vanishing Forests
When we spoke to the khel (ward) Head Gaon Bura (GB), he reflected on how Zhavame’s forests have changed over time. In the past, the village was surrounded by natural forests with trees like Jasu, Mova, and Yawsus (local names), which played a crucial role in attracting rain and preserving the ecosystem. He recalled the old saying, ’Cha Ju Rho’—tree, water, and rest—emphasizing how these forests controlled water flow and provided shelter for wildlife. However, these forests are now gone. As roads and bridges improved, deforestation intensified, particularly in the 1990s, when logging became the main source of cash income for many villagers.
An 85-year-old woman shared her memories of Kapamodzu Mountain, which was once covered in dense forests with no bare areas as there are today. About 20 to 30 years ago, a political armed group set up a camp in the region, despite opposition from the villagers. At that time, the group members were so powerful that no one dared to challenge them. Village leaders urged them to leave, but their requests were ignored, and the camp remains there to this day. Over the years, large trees were cut down—not only to build the camp but also for timber sales—leaving the mountain bare. She also pointed out that the forest along the way to the mountain is not natural; it consists entirely of replanted alder trees. In the past, the community itself logged heavily, rolling down massive logs to sell the timber.

Another elder, discussing the village’s past, explained how the local people’s use of firewood has also contributed to forest depletion. During their parents’ time, people relied solely on firewood and pinewood for lighting and cooking. While electricity arrived when they were young, gas cylinders only became available in 2002 or 2003; for decades, firewood remained the primary energy source. He also noted how shifting agricultural practices have reshaped the forests. When villagers transitioned from growing paddy, millet, and Job’s tears to cultivating cash crops like potatoes and cabbage, abandoned fields gave way to alder trees, which are beneficial for farming but lack the rich biodiversity of the original forests.
In our land mapping discussion, the village elders recalled that the Federal Government of Nagaland (FGN) established a presence on Kapamodzu Mountain in the 1950s. They further confirmed that in 2004, it became a camp for another political group, which further accelerated deforestation. Large amounts of timber from the village were sold, and extensive logging was carried out to construct the camp. By the 2010s, the once-thriving forest had been reduced to a barren landscape. Meanwhile, another elder pointed out that forest depletion was not only due to external forces but also a shift in the villagers’ beliefs. In the past, spiritual beliefs surrounding trees, rocks, and forests made people hesitant to cut down large trees. But with the decline of these beliefs—especially following the widespread conversion to Christianity and other societal changes—tree-cutting has become a more practical, economically driven decision. What was once protected out of reverence is now valued more for its market worth than its cultural or ecological significance.
In another interview, a 67-year-old man stated, ‘Now that everyone in the village is Christian, they no longer observe the old rituals, including prohibitions against cutting large trees or stones.’
A Gaon Bura also shared that a sawmill in the village was established in the 1990s, run by a local man from Zhavame. He believes the sawmill was one of the main reasons for deforestation. Since its arrival, many trees have been cut, as the sawmill owner buys wood from villagers. He sometimes helps with road repairs, and provides wood for coffins for free when someone passes away. The mill benefits the community because if people want to build houses, they can easily obtain timber. Although the sawmill owner still purchases wood from Zhavame, now a larger portion comes from other villages. Another sawmill was established in 2015.
Through this account, we see that each respondent has provided a unique lens through which to understand the forest’s transformation—some blamed external forces, while others pointed to economic shifts and changing cultural values. Together, their narratives paint a vivid picture of a landscape shaped by history, evolving livelihoods, and shifting beliefs.
Transformation of Agriculture and Ways of Life
We have observed how the village’s way of life and forests have gradually changed over time. Our findings reveal a clear shift—while the villagers once focused mainly on subsistence rice farming, they now prioritise cash crops. Crops like cabbage and potatoes have replaced rice as the primary agricultural produce. A 47-year-old woman shared this insight, reflecting on how farming has evolved in Zhavame.
Cabbage was never part of Zhavame’s traditional agriculture. In fact, the villagers did not have a native word for it and simply called it ‘Coby’, though no one is sure where this name originated. The first cabbage seeds arrived in the village around 1982, but at that time, there were no marketing opportunities. People only grew small amounts for their own consumption because they were unfamiliar with selling farm produce, and there were no buyers for cabbage.
Everything changed when a villager sold a large quantity of cabbage to traders from Manipur. These traders often visited Zhavame to buy goods. He earned ₹10,000—a sum that left the entire village in awe. The cabbage was carried in bamboo baskets, and his achievement showed the villagers that cabbage could be a valuable cash crop. Inspired by his success, more villagers began planting cabbage, slowly shifting from farming for survival to farming for income.
A 65-year-old woman and a 67-year-old man recalled how they once cultivated cabbage and potatoes. Though they no longer farm as actively, they now run larger businesses, selling various goods, including cabbage. They now plant cabbage twice a year in their jhum fields and once a year in the paddy fields. In the past, it was planted only once annually.
For over a decade, the villagers have also been planting potatoes in the paddy fields after they dry up. Alongside potatoes, they grow peas, paddy rice, and other vegetables. Earlier, they lacked the knowledge to farm such a variety of crops, but today, cultivation has become more diverse and widespread.
A farmer said, ‘These days, people in the village are prioritizing cash crops over rice. Even for us, we have to focus on growing cash crops to support our children’s education.’
A Gaon Bura also shared that millet and Job’s tears are no longer widely cultivated, saying—‘Back when my parents were in charge, those crops were our staple food. That’s why they were healthier and physically stronger than I am today. When I was a child, I ate locally grown rice, but now my children eat shop-bought rice. As a result, they are physically smaller and not as strong as I was. However, given the current times, we have no choice but to prioritise earning money.’
A village pastor reflected, ‘In the past, people only grew rice, millet, and Job’s tears, so they never had time to rest. But now, with the climate becoming warmer, crops can grow even in the upper part of the village. Villagers now cultivate cash crops, sell them, and then buy rice to eat. Life today is much more convenient than in the past. People transport their harvests by motorbikes and cars, and buyers even drive directly to the fields to purchase crops. In the past, there was never time to rest, but life today is much easier,’ he concluded. The construction of roads has also facilitated these changes.
Echoes of the Past — Zhavame Village, Nagaland: Part 2
By Lu Chi
MyClimate Senior Researcher.