"Washington Post" Publishes Article on IPDC Project in India
23-09-2003 ()
Bhavani Muniratna interviews a farmer about farm prices for Boodikote's community radio program.
Rama Lakshmi For The Washington Post
“Community Radio Gives India's Villagers a Voice” is the title of the article by Rama Lakshmi published on 17 September in The Washington Post. It features India's first independent community radio initiative in the millet- and tomato-growing village in the southern state of Karnataka. This initiative was implemented under the UNESCO IPDC project «NAMMA DHWANI Community Radio».
Text of the article
Community Radio Gives India's Villagers a Voice
Officials Worry Local Stations May Foment Unrest
By Rama Lakshmi
Special to The Washington Post
Wednesday, September 17, 2003; Page A17
BOODIKOTE, India -- Crushed under the weight of three years of drought, the villagers lost their patience when the public water pipes dried up last June. For eight days, there was no water for cooking, cleaning or washing.
There were murmurs of protest everywhere. Women came out of their homes with empty pots demanding that the old pipes be fixed and new wells dug. Men stood at street corners and debated angrily. The village chief made promises, but nothing happened.
Then, a young man ran over to the village radio station and picked up a recorder.
"Women complained and shouted into the mike and vented their anger at the village chief's indifference. There was chaos everywhere. But I recorded everything," said Nagaraj Govindappa, 22, a jobless villager. He played the tape that evening on the small community radio station called Namma Dhwani, or Our Voices. The embarrassed village chief ordered the pipes repaired. Within days, water was gushing again.
India's first independent community radio initiative is in this millet- and tomato-growing village in the southern state of Karnataka. It is a cable radio service because India forbids communities to use the airwaves. A media advocacy group, with the help of U.N. funds, laid cables, sold subsidized radios with cable jacks to villagers and trained young people to run the station.
"The power of community radio as a tool of social change is enormous in a country that is poor, illiterate and has a daunting diversity of languages and cultures," said Ashish Sen, director of Voices, the advocacy group.
Emboldened by a Supreme Court ruling in 1995 declaring airwaves to be public property, citizens groups and activists began pushing for legislation that would free the airwaves from government control. Two years ago, India auctioned its FM stations to private businesses to air entertainment programs. And late last year, India allowed some elite colleges to set up and run campus radio stations.
By keeping the airwaves restricted, activists complain, the Indian government lags behind such South Asian neighbors as Nepal and Sri Lanka. Nepal launched South Asia's first community radio station in 1995 and today has at least five independent stations across the country that address people's complaints and act as hubs of information in times of strife. In Sri Lanka, Kothmale Radio has been an integral part of the Kothmale community for 14 years.
Last December, Sri Lanka issued a broadcasting license to the formerly clandestine radio station run by the Tamil Tiger rebels, Voice of Tigers. The decision was made to strengthen the peace process underway after nearly two decades of war and to bring the radio transmissions under Sri Lankan law.
Radiophony, an Indian lobby group for community radio, claims that villagers can set up a low-powered, do-it-yourself radio station -- with a half-watt transmitter, a microphone, antenna and a cassette player -- for approximately $25. The group says such a station can reach about a third of a mile and cover a small village.
Last year, the group supplied a low-wattage transmitter to a World Bank-supported women's group in Oravakal, a village in the southern state of Andhra Pradesh. Mana Radio, or Our Radio, ran for five months before officials from the communications ministry seized the equipment and shut down the broadcast in February.
"We have to tread very cautiously when it comes to community radio," said Pavan Chopra, secretary of India's ministry of information and broadcasting. "As of today we don't think that villagers are equipped to run radio stations. People are unprepared, and it could become a platform to air provocative, political content that doesn't serve any purpose except to divide people. It is fraught with danger."
The ministry runs the All India Radio service that covers the country and has more than 200 stations. Chopra said communities can buy time from the radio service and run their programs under state supervision. Since 1999, two groups of villagers, one in the western state of Gujarat and the other in the northern state of Jharkhand, have used time slots on All India Radio to run programs in their local dialects. But activists say that the central principle of community radio is to own and run a radio station freely.
"Community radio in India is not about playing alternative rock music," said Seema Nair, who helps the villagers run the station at Boodikote. "It is a new source of strength for poor people because it addresses their most basic development needs."
Since it began broadcasting in March, Our Voices community radio has crackled with the sounds of schoolchildren singing songs and giggling to jokes; of young girls talking fearlessly about the evils of dowry and admonishing boys for teasing them at school; of women giving out recipes and teaching others how to open a bank account; and of farmers debating the vagaries of the weather and fluctuating crop prices.
"This radio station is ours because it speaks about us -- in our language and in our accent. When I turn it on, I hear the voices of people I know," said Triveni Narayanswamy, 28, as she twirled the dial of her tiny transistor radio.
Narayanswamy sold milk until her only cow died three months ago.
"But when I went to claim insurance money for my cow, the agent tried to cheat me. He said he owed me no money," she said. "I went up and down his office at least a dozen times in vain. Then I spoke about my problem on Namma Dhwani radio. The next day, the agent gave me the insurance amount." She said it was about $240.
"Our radio is more powerful than the corrupt and inefficient village council," she said proudly. "They hold secret meetings and don't spend the money on our welfare. I want the proceedings of such meetings to be recorded. We all have a right to know what happens to the money that comes in."
Community Radio Gives India's Villagers a Voice
Officials Worry Local Stations May Foment Unrest
By Rama Lakshmi
Special to The Washington Post
Wednesday, September 17, 2003; Page A17
BOODIKOTE, India -- Crushed under the weight of three years of drought, the villagers lost their patience when the public water pipes dried up last June. For eight days, there was no water for cooking, cleaning or washing.
There were murmurs of protest everywhere. Women came out of their homes with empty pots demanding that the old pipes be fixed and new wells dug. Men stood at street corners and debated angrily. The village chief made promises, but nothing happened.
Then, a young man ran over to the village radio station and picked up a recorder.
"Women complained and shouted into the mike and vented their anger at the village chief's indifference. There was chaos everywhere. But I recorded everything," said Nagaraj Govindappa, 22, a jobless villager. He played the tape that evening on the small community radio station called Namma Dhwani, or Our Voices. The embarrassed village chief ordered the pipes repaired. Within days, water was gushing again.
India's first independent community radio initiative is in this millet- and tomato-growing village in the southern state of Karnataka. It is a cable radio service because India forbids communities to use the airwaves. A media advocacy group, with the help of U.N. funds, laid cables, sold subsidized radios with cable jacks to villagers and trained young people to run the station.
"The power of community radio as a tool of social change is enormous in a country that is poor, illiterate and has a daunting diversity of languages and cultures," said Ashish Sen, director of Voices, the advocacy group.
Emboldened by a Supreme Court ruling in 1995 declaring airwaves to be public property, citizens groups and activists began pushing for legislation that would free the airwaves from government control. Two years ago, India auctioned its FM stations to private businesses to air entertainment programs. And late last year, India allowed some elite colleges to set up and run campus radio stations.
By keeping the airwaves restricted, activists complain, the Indian government lags behind such South Asian neighbors as Nepal and Sri Lanka. Nepal launched South Asia's first community radio station in 1995 and today has at least five independent stations across the country that address people's complaints and act as hubs of information in times of strife. In Sri Lanka, Kothmale Radio has been an integral part of the Kothmale community for 14 years.
Last December, Sri Lanka issued a broadcasting license to the formerly clandestine radio station run by the Tamil Tiger rebels, Voice of Tigers. The decision was made to strengthen the peace process underway after nearly two decades of war and to bring the radio transmissions under Sri Lankan law.
Radiophony, an Indian lobby group for community radio, claims that villagers can set up a low-powered, do-it-yourself radio station -- with a half-watt transmitter, a microphone, antenna and a cassette player -- for approximately $25. The group says such a station can reach about a third of a mile and cover a small village.
Last year, the group supplied a low-wattage transmitter to a World Bank-supported women's group in Oravakal, a village in the southern state of Andhra Pradesh. Mana Radio, or Our Radio, ran for five months before officials from the communications ministry seized the equipment and shut down the broadcast in February.
"We have to tread very cautiously when it comes to community radio," said Pavan Chopra, secretary of India's ministry of information and broadcasting. "As of today we don't think that villagers are equipped to run radio stations. People are unprepared, and it could become a platform to air provocative, political content that doesn't serve any purpose except to divide people. It is fraught with danger."
The ministry runs the All India Radio service that covers the country and has more than 200 stations. Chopra said communities can buy time from the radio service and run their programs under state supervision. Since 1999, two groups of villagers, one in the western state of Gujarat and the other in the northern state of Jharkhand, have used time slots on All India Radio to run programs in their local dialects. But activists say that the central principle of community radio is to own and run a radio station freely.
"Community radio in India is not about playing alternative rock music," said Seema Nair, who helps the villagers run the station at Boodikote. "It is a new source of strength for poor people because it addresses their most basic development needs."
Since it began broadcasting in March, Our Voices community radio has crackled with the sounds of schoolchildren singing songs and giggling to jokes; of young girls talking fearlessly about the evils of dowry and admonishing boys for teasing them at school; of women giving out recipes and teaching others how to open a bank account; and of farmers debating the vagaries of the weather and fluctuating crop prices.
"This radio station is ours because it speaks about us -- in our language and in our accent. When I turn it on, I hear the voices of people I know," said Triveni Narayanswamy, 28, as she twirled the dial of her tiny transistor radio.
Narayanswamy sold milk until her only cow died three months ago.
"But when I went to claim insurance money for my cow, the agent tried to cheat me. He said he owed me no money," she said. "I went up and down his office at least a dozen times in vain. Then I spoke about my problem on Namma Dhwani radio. The next day, the agent gave me the insurance amount." She said it was about $240.
"Our radio is more powerful than the corrupt and inefficient village council," she said proudly. "They hold secret meetings and don't spend the money on our welfare. I want the proceedings of such meetings to be recorded. We all have a right to know what happens to the money that comes in."
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