Basanti Devi sits in her courtyard, surrounded by plastic containers, most of them empty. She points to a tap, held together by scraps of cloth and polythene bags: “One day, I was so angry at the uselessness of this tap that I just ripped it apart; my children later fixed it,” she says. With no running water, Basanti’s family relies on a naula, a traditional aquifer, located deep inside the nearby forest. She spends an hour a day walking narrow trails to fetch 10 litres of water.
Devi’s tap in Bughadh village, Almora district, in the Indian Himalayan state of Uttarakhand, was provided under the Har Ghar Jal scheme, literally “water for every home”. Launched in 2019, this government programme had the ambitious goal of providing piped water to every rural household in India by 2024. Unfortunately, cases like Devi’s highlight the difference between aspiration and reality.
Misleading data
On paper the project seems very successful. According to the government website only 130,325 households in Uttarakhand, less than 9%, had a tap water connection in August 2019. By July 2023 the government figures reported that 78.40% households in Uttarakhand had tap water connections and by July 2024 the proportion was over 95%.
The official figures of the Ministry of Jal Shakti are based on data reported by the state government. But these have to be certified by gram panchayats (elected village councils) who declare their villages as “Har Ghar Jal” certified, indicating that all households have access to safe water. Out of 14,884 villages in Uttarakhand, 8,501 have been reported as 100% functional household tap connection villages, while only 3,749 have been certified as such by gram panchayats.
The head of the gram panchayat of Chitai Pant, Rohit Kumar, told Dialogue Earth that the data submitted to the Jal Shakti Mission was not provided by him, but rather by the contractor and engineers working with the Jal Shakti Ministry.
“We have lodged numerous complaints about the lack of water in the taps installed under the scheme. They keep telling us that water will be available once the tank is constructed, but they never give us an estimated timeline for its completion,” said Kumar.
Residents have also reported being photographed with taps by officials, yet many remain without running water. “Had I known that the tap would merely be ornamental, I would have never allowed them to take my photograph; our struggle for water is never-ending,” says Bhopal Ram of Badi a village, which falls under the Chitai Pant gram panchayat.
Rajesh Mehta, a resident of Dinapani village, in Almora district, another village which officially has 100% functional household tap connection, says that while 35 families reside there, only two households have functional water tap connections. 15 households were fitted with taps in October 2023, but they remain dry due to incomplete infrastructure.
Like 90% of Uttarakhand’s residents, the villagers of Dinapani are still dependent on natural springs rather than water from tap connections. During summer, when aquifers dry up or reach low levels, villagers resort to buying water at Rs 1,100 rupees per tanker, lasting a week. “This summer, we’ve bought water six times [already],” says Mehta.
Speaking to Dialogue Earth, Arun Khatri, Junior Engineer with the department of Pey Jal Nigam overseeing the pipeline work in Almora said the construction on the tank needed to ensure water supply was delayed because trees needed to be felled. This, in turn, required clearances from the forest department. The Har Ghal Scheme requires the creation of in-village infrastructure including source development, water treatment, and distribution systems, but so far only pipelines and taps have been provided.
“Since we have laid the [pipeline] connections we would have to record the data and upload them online.” said Khatri “Once the augmentation is completed, people will eventually receive water.”
Effect of water scarcity
Even if the water infrastructure is eventually created it may not be enough for those most in need of water access, said Prashant Kashwan. Currently an Associate Professor of Environmental Studies at Brandeis University and the co-founder of Climate Justice Network, Kashwan said, “In many cases, these water resources are out of bounds for [marginalised communities like] Dalits [and] Muslims; in some places separate dharas [springs] are assigned to the socioeconomically and politically repressed castes depending on their location and water quality. In areas with dharas shared by all castes, Dalit women can collect water only after socioeconomically privileged caste women have collected their share. The repressed castes are often verbally and physically abused for attempting to use privileged-caste water sources.”
“We haven’t been provided with tap connections under the [Har Ghar Jal] scheme,” says Nisha Devi of Bijaulinag village, Pithoragarh district. “The Thakur community, living higher up the hill, has received them. We belong to the Scheduled Caste; development never trickles down to us. Our pradhan [village head] ignores our requests, coming only to ask for votes.”
Most traditional villages in India are spatially segregated, with marginalised communities clustered on the outskirts. Vargish Bamola, a researcher and environmentalist from Uttarakhand says that dominant caste communities have traditionally claimed land with better water resources. “I have encountered that poor water sources, both in quality and quantity, are typically assigned to lower caste members. Often, the smell indicates something is wrong with the water,” he says.
This historical exclusion is present in the building of new infrastructure as well, says Nisha Devi, stating, “A tank was constructed for the upper-caste village, but since we live downhill, no tank has been built for us. She added, “People of our caste hold no value in their eyes; we are deprived of information and any benefits from schemes.”
Geographic isolation also restricts these villages from buying water from tankers, at least in times of crisis, as they are rarely connected to paved roads.
In Matena, another supposed 100% unctional household tap connection village, Ganga Devi reports no running water despite being listed as connected. “We spend an hour every day [walking] to collect water from an aquifer. Once a week, we go to the river for laundry and bathing,” she says.
During the summer, when aquifers dry up, women form groups to collect water at night, despite the danger from wild animals. “We bang utensils to scare away the leopards. We have no choice when it comes to water,” explains Ganga Devi.
Environmentally unsustainable
An under-explored aspect of the Har Ghar Jal scheme is the impact on water supplies that used to cater to those without access to tap water, says Vargish. “Initially, a water source that used to provide water to one or two villages is now being stretched to supply 10-12 villages due to the scheme’s implementation.”
These springs were already under pressure, with the Govind Ballabh Pant National Institute of Himalayan Environment noting that 58,000 villages across the Indian Himalayan region are dependent on springs, “of which at least half of the springs are drying up or have witnessed decline in water discharge”.
Debashish Sen, the Director of the People’s Science institute, explains that, “High-intensity rainfall combined with deforestation due to the development projects that are happening prevents rainwater from percolating into the ground and recharging the spring aquifers. As a result, most of the rainwater simply runs down the mountain, contributing to the drying of these springs.”
Now the implementation of the Har Ghar Jal scheme is adding additional pressure to these dwindling resources. “Depleting a common resource that feeds many communities significantly impacts those who rely on springs, particularly marginalised groups without alternative water sources. This creates a vacuum, affecting the larger community residing in the area. Unfortunately, there is minimal effort to recharge the aquifers,” said Sanjeev Bhuchar, a senior watershed management specialist at the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development.
In the meanwhile, people like Basanti Devi are increasingly desperate to see the benefits they were promised. “We are willing to pay any authority to bring water to our village; the ordeal of fetching water takes a lot more than just time,” she said.
For Kashwan, though, it is not just about one scheme or another, but about how all such schemes have been implemented over time. “So long as a small section of Indian society continues to dominate each of these spheres, it will be impossible to address these inequalities,” he says. “We must think of this as a whole-of-society challenge that must be addressed at multiple levels.”
Swati Thapa is a freelance journalist based in Uttarakhand. Her work focuses on gender, health and rural issues. Her handle on X is @swati_thp and on Instagram @swati_thp.
This article was originally published on Dialogue Earth under the Creative Commons BY NC ND licence.
