Three years ago, Ram Chandra Kurmi, a farmer from the village of Gaidahawa in south-western Nepal, abandoned his small vegetable plot. The 39-year-old, who once supported his family of five through farming, now struggles to make a stable income.
The culprit, he says, is the uncontrolled proliferation of nilgais, or blue bulls (Boselaphus tragocamelus), a large antelope species native to this region. “Nilgais come at night when no one’s around to shoo them away and munch on the vegetables,” he said. “I couldn’t do anything about it, so I had to quit farming altogether.”
Kurmi’s story is echoed across the Indo-Gangetic plains that straddle the Nepal-India border region, where marginalised farming communities complain of government inaction to address the problem.
The nilgai, whose return to neighboring Bangladesh after nearly a century was celebrated there, is typically found at elevations ranging from 75 metres-300 metres (about 300 ft-1,000 ft). It’s been described as having the body of a horse and head of an antelope. Making it even more distinctive is the fact that adult males are iron-blue to light gray in color, hence the name nilgai (“blue cow”). It’s also been said to have the “appetite of a cow, the speed of a horse, and the alertness of a dog”.
Nepal’s government lacks official data on nilgais outside the country’s national parks, but a 2018 Ministry of Forests and Environment assessment estimated 300-350 individuals across several border districts, such as Rupandehi (where the town of Gaidahawa is located), Kapilvastu, Nawalparasi, Rautahat, Sarlahi, Dhanusha and Siraha.
The species’ population is believed to have increased rapidly, as nilgais are prolific breeders. For example, a dozen introduced to a ranch in the US state of Texas in 1929-’30 have since grown to an estimated 36,000-50,000, even with extensive hunting
In Nepal, municipal officials, conservationists and researchers agree that the population grew remarkably in the last decade. However, without scientific studies, theories about the cause vary. Some link it to the end of Nepal’s Maoist insurgency (1996-2006), during which rebels hunted nilgais for food, according to Dhiraj Thapa, chair of the Triveni Buffer Zone Consumer Committee in the border district of Nawalpur. If anyone were to try to hunt a nilgai now, he says, “everyone has a mobile phone,” so “someone will immediately inform the security authorities.”
Others point to the spread of invasive plants such water hyacinth (Pontederia crassipes), devil weed (Chromolaena odorata) and lantana (Lantana camara), which have crowded out the native vegetation that nilgais prefer to feed on.
“If fresh grass were available in the forest, the animals would not venture into human settlements,” says Thakur Silwal, dean of the Institute of Forestry at Tribhuvan University in Kathmandu.
Notably, the nilgai problem is largely absent from Nepal’s western plains, home to tigers in Banke, Bardiya and Shuklaphanta national parks. Ashish Choudhary from the nonprofit Friends for Wildlife Conservation attributes this to a balanced predator-prey dynamic: where there are healthy populations of tigers, nilgai populations remain in check.
However, wildlife researcher Naresh Subedi from the National Trust for Nature Conservation, which manages Nepal’s national parks, suggests the issue is more complex, with nilgais favoring disturbed grasslands over the untouched habitats found in protected areas. They also like to remain close to human settlements where they can go at night for food, he adds.
Hunting nilgais is illegal in both Nepal and India. In India’s Bihar state, where the species has been classified as vermin, around 5,000 were culled between 2016 and 2020. Yet farmers continue to suffer losses. In Nepal, a 2016 study found that 303 nilgais in 16 villages of the Rupandehi district, caused an estimated $68,600 in annual agricultural losses. “The actual amount would be much higher just for the district as we didn’t not cover the entire area,” says Srijana Khanal, lead author of the study.
Farmers in both countries rarely receive timely compensation. “Complex processes and delayed ex gratia payments likely make the farmers even more intolerant towards the species,” says Kamlesh K Maurya, from WWF India. “It was seen that people are not interested to apply for compensation as the loss estimation procedure was highly inappropriate and even though the money was awarded many times the money was less proportional to the loss experienced by the farmers.”
Nepal’s government hasn’t classified nilgais as an agriculture pest, as it has for rhesus macaques (Macaca mulatta) and wild boars (Sus scrofa). However, local government representatives, under pressure from frustrated farmers, are pushing for a policy change. Surendra Prasad Kurmi, the chair of Gaidahawa municipality-4, says he spends much of his time addressing farmers’ complaints.
“We are in direct contact with the people every day,” he says. “As local representatives, we are the first to hear these complaints, but we lack the resources and authority to do anything.
Lawmakers have also raised the issue in Nepal’s parliament, demanding nilgais also be declared as agriculture pests so that the farmers can drive them away without any legal repercussions in the event that they kill one.
The Department of National Parks and Wildlife Conservation has acknowledged the issue and says it’s studying the population and impact. “A decision can be taken once we have the numbers,” Bed Kumar Dhakal, a spokesperson for the department, tells Mongabay.
But farmers’ patience is wearing thin. Ashok Mehta, chair of Bateshwar municipality ward-1 in Dhanusha district, says that if the government fails to act, farmers will march on Kathmandu to hand over their land deeds in protest. “We are not in a position to do anything about the nilgai even when farmers call us crying,” he says.
In the absence of a long-term solution, the federal government has considered short-term measures. Six months ago, the Ministry of Agriculture and Livestock wrote to the Department of National Parks and Wildlife Conservation, requesting the relocation of nilgais from Sarlahi district to one of the national parks. However, budget constraints stalled the plan, according to Sindhu Dhungana, former director-general of the Department of National Parks and Wildlife Conservation.
“Relocation to tiger habitats could be a possible temporary measure to deal with the situation,” he says. “But allowing hunters to take down the animal could offer a permanent solution.”
This idea is also backed by lawmaker Amresh Kumar Singh, who represents Sarlahi district in parliament and says nilgais’ rate of crop destruction on the plains is “more dangerous” than what macaques have wreaked on farms in the hill country.
Yet some experts disagree. “Killing animals can never be a solution,” says Silwal, the forestry dean. “Nature can control its population if we improve the animals’ habitat, especially get rid of the invasive [plant] species.”
In India, farmers have turned to solar-powered electric fences, scarecrows, and night patrols, says WWF’s Maurya. “They are spending a lot of time, effort and energy in saving crops from nilgai and other wildlife,” he says. “In some of the areas, farmers have shifted from cultivating grains to buffer crops such as tobacco, hoping to minimize their annual financial loss.”
At sunset, Ram Bilash Yadav from Gaidahawa walks a kilometer to his field with a packed meal. He spends the night here in a small straw hut. “I guard against nilgai all night, walking around the field with a torchlight,” he says.
“What else can I do? There is no other option. If I don’t do this, they will destroy all the crops overnight. We have no choice.”
Bodh Raj Mourya, also of Gaidahawa, keeps two dogs that bark nonstop whenever nilgais enter his fields, waking him up so he can chase them away. Others use rotten fish intestines and putrefying substances to repel the animal.
“Despite all these efforts, nilgais still destroy our crops,” Mourya says. “We have fenced some areas where nilgais often come, but it hasn’t worked.”
Mukesh Pokhrel is a journalist based in Kathmandu.
This article was first published on Mongabay.
