Sati Chakma, BJP Mahila Morcha’s state vice-president, balances politics with jhum cultivation in Raima Valley. Her story reflects the struggle between tradition and modernity, as she nurtures both community progress and ancestral farming.
The morning mist still lingers over the hills when Sati Chakma steps into her fields. The air smells of damp earth and wild herbs, and somewhere in the distance a bamboo flute drifts lazily over the valley. With a sickle in hand, she bends over ripened paddy stalks that gleam like strands of gold.
Few passing by would imagine that this woman in a tucked sari and mud-smeared feet is also the state vice-president of the BJP Mahila Morcha. Yet here, on ten kani of tilla land in Mangal Chan Para, politics fades into the background. What matters is the rhythm of sowing, weeding, harvesting—a cycle as old as the hills themselves.
This year, her fields have yielded more than just paddy. Maize rises in sturdy stalks, sesame blooms in tiny white flowers, bananas crowd in leafy clusters, and mango saplings promise fruit for future seasons. The harvest, she estimates, will bring 400 kilograms of paddy—enough to feed, but more importantly, enough to remember.
“Jhum is not only farming,” she says, straightening her back as the cicadas sing. “It is our story. Our heritage. No matter how busy we are, we cannot let it slip away.”
Her days are not simple. By noon, she may be attending a meeting, speaking to women about self-help groups, or planning a welfare drive. By evening, she could be sitting with community elders, listening to their concerns. Yet, somehow, she returns to the land. “True development,” she insists, “comes when family, society, and culture move together. If one is neglected, the balance is lost.”
For many in Raima Valley, this balance is fragile. The push of modernity often clashes with the pull of tradition. Young people migrate to towns, fields lie fallow, and age-old practices fade under new economies. But Sati Chakma, in her own quiet way, tends to both worlds—urging people to keep their roots alive while reaching for progress.
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As the day wanes, her harvested bundles are tied and stacked. The valley glows in the last light of the sun, painting the hills in shades of amber and green. Sati Chakma watches over her field, a figure caught between two worlds—leader and farmer, reformer and custodian of tradition.
For her, the harvest is more than grain. It is continuity. It is proof that one can serve society in the meeting hall and still kneel on the soil of their ancestors, reaping not only crops but also heritage, hope, and belonging.
