Jewar... That once little-known area of Uttar Pradesh is now recognized for being the site of the country’s largest airport. It's the land of Jewar's farmers that has laid the foundation for this massive project. Their lands were taken, and in return, they received millions in compensation. But has this "development" really improved the lives of Jewar’s farmers? Has the compensation truly served as a balm for their struggles?
Indeed, when people hear about the fortunes bestowed upon farmers for their land, the immediate assumption is one of windfall gains. They picture a life filled with ease—luxury cars, grand mansions, and gold adornments.
Likewise, a similar perception has formed about the farmers in Jewar. But is this perception a reflection of reality? If it is, are these farmers truly living comfortable lives? And if not, what are their conditions now without their lands? To seek answers, we ventured into Jewar...
Source: aajtak
How Much Has the Shadow of the Airport Changed the Fate of Farmers?
As we traveled from Noida down the Yamuna Expressway and entered the limits of Jewar, signs of the airport's construction were visibly everywhere—massive cranes, heavy machinery, and groups of laborers. Older routes were barricaded with barbed wire or fenced off with high walls, and several paths were left to gather dust.
In search of Jewar’s farmers, we decided to visit the village of Ranhaira. The way there winded through uneven lanes, some partially flooded and lined with empty houses suggesting areas ravaged by time. Between sprawling fields, towering airport walls loomed, seemingly watching over the lands left. On the far side of these walls, hope had faded for some, while waves of discontent still surged for others.
"The Money Came, But the Land Went Away"
We found ourselves in the meeting area of Ranhaira, where farmers sat in protest for their demands. Among them, Deviraj Singh shared, "Farming life was the best. We were supporting our children and had steady jobs. But since the airport project, our land and jobs vanished. Now, the children’s future is dim. The village school is closed, threatening the education of the village’s children."
Source: aajtak
His eyes told a tale of deep sadness. Reminiscing the old days, he mentioned, "We used to spend all day farming. Start work at dawn and forget everything by sunset. Now we're confined within four walls. Days drag on. The compensation seemed a chance to buy more farming land. But when we searched, hearing our village name doubled the price of a Rs. 600,000 plot. Everyone assumes our land went to the airport, bringing us fortunes. But the truth is only known to us and the government."
As Deviraj Singh finished, an older farmer, Sarvottam Singh, whose land was claimed in both phases of the airport project, shared his story. He noted, "Our 13 bighas of land were taken and we received Rs. 20 million. Initially, we thought life would be easier—we married off daughters, bought plots, and repaid debts. The money went fast. We bought a plot, but couldn’t build. Nor could we create a steady income source."
Source: aajtak
Did the Millions Become a Conundrum for the Farmers?
When the government acquired the farmers' land for Jewar Airport, they received compensation far beyond what many had ever seen. Some took it as an opportunity, while others were overwhelmed by the sizable amount. Many farmers express that although they received millions, ineffective management led to nearly depleting those funds.
We pondered whether it was possible that all the farmers' money could run out. Why, with millions as compensation, were none of the farmers content? Searching for answers, we met a young man, Rahul, who explained, "Among those compensated in phase one, roughly 35% are now ruined. After receiving money, many bought cars or motorcycles. Lacking knowledge, they invested in plots in housing colonies, which authorities later declared illegal and demolished. Others were duped while purchasing farmland."
Source: aajtak
"No Job Received, Promises Left Unfulfilled"
Watching the elderly express themselves, young people and children began to gather. We spoke with Vijay, a local resident. He said, "Our lands were taken. The government promised one job per household. Rs. 500,000 was deducted from compensation for this. But no one has yet received a job. Seeking answers means running around from the local officials to the district magistrate, with no one listening."
Vijay’s anger was justified. The youth of his village were passing their prime job-seeking age. He went on, "Our land was taken, and in exchange, we only have hope. We’re now at a point where we may have to leave the village. What good is compensation if we don’t have work? The little land we owned would have yielded a substantial compensation. What we received will be spent on buying a plot and building a house. After that, we’ll be left with neither farmland nor a job."
Listening to him, more people began to share their grievances. Everyone agreed that money arrived but wasn’t a lasting solution. Life changed direction after their land went for the airport project.
"There Are Uncertainties About Our Future..."
Village elder Jaidev Singh shared, "Life before the airport was good. We bred cattle and farmed to meet costs. We were educating our children and comfortably living in the village. But now everything’s gone. The compensation didn’t positively impact our lives; instead, our children's futures are uncertain."
Among those in the community meeting, some retired soldiers were present, including C.P. Singh. Having served the country on the border, he had returned to reside in the village. He mentioned, "I spent my life serving the country at the border. I hoped to enjoy peace after retirement in my village. But now, we face leaving it. We received Rs. 15 million compensation. My children took some, and I repaid debts. Now I worry about securing my children's futures. Where will we live, and how will we sustain ourselves?"
Source: aajtak
The Scene of Empty Homes
Walking through village lanes, we observed many homes were empty, locks dangling on doors. Some homes were submerged in water, reminiscent of a past left behind.
We met an elderly woman managing a shop from her modest home. She shared, "Ever since we were told to leave the village, I've been worried. We're promised a 50-meter plot elsewhere in exchange, but it’s too small for our needs. Our ancestors lived here. The thought of leaving is heartbreaking."
"We Lost Everything"
Another elderly farmer, Dharmaveer Singh, shares a similar tale of woe. Receiving Rs. 20 million in compensation, he now struggles for food. With moist eyes, he notes, "We purchased 3 bighas and a plot with the compensation. Both were deceitfully transferred to my son's name. At this age, I can't work. We survived by working the fields and selling milk. Today, securing two meals is a challenge. The future seems bleak in old age, and I’m unable to share my pain with anyone."
Source: aajtak
"A Legacy Centuries Old Has Been Lost"
Farmer Vijaypal mentions, "Along with our land, our civilization and culture are vanishing. Our village, over 1000 years old, is being taken for peanuts. Even our homes in the village are being acquired for the airport. We're offered 50-meter plots in return. It’s insufficient for families. What’ll happen to our children? Our land was taken with promises of benefits. Yet no jobs for our children. There’s no one to hear us."
The Jewar Airport project undoubtedly brings new opportunities and economic infrastructure to the nation. However, the real price is paid by the farmers whose lives have been upturned in this development’s path. Though compensation brought temporary economic relief, the narratives of these farmers make it clear that the financial gain hasn't resolved their issues permanently. This is not just a matter of lost land but of lost identity and roots, facing an uncertain future. Jewar Airport’s tale isn’t merely a story of physical construction; it’s about the farmers whose struggles and sacrifices teach us the true meaning of development.
