In this Nepalese village, people have learned to live in harmony with elephants

Desperate villagers, including Mr. Rasaili, had taken to banging metal drums and waving flaming torches in a futile attempt to drive them away. On the evening of December 8, 2021, Mr. Rasaili considered resorting to old methods, but his family members recalled what local officials had told them about the elephants.

Instead of shouting or fighting back, they stayed inside the house. The elephant, half its body inside, devoured their rice reserves before moving on. Mr. Rasaili says:

“We are no longer afraid of elephants and we are no longer angry with them. When they come, we stay inside. If we don't disturb them, they eventually leave.”

“It’s if we shout that they cause problems.”

Once a conflict zone between humans and elephants, the village has become a model of peaceful coexistence. Conservationists see it as the result of a series of innovative strategies. In recent decades, thanks to effective support measures implemented by the government, communities have opted for crops that are unattractive to elephants and have changed their attitudes toward the animal.

“The Bahundangi case shows that it is possible to coexist with wild elephants. We see that it is not enough to raise awareness among the population; we need to change attitudes towards wildlife,” Narendra Man Babu Pradhan, an elephant researcher and former park ranger at Chitwan National Park, told Mongabay .

The pachyderms once roamed the strip of land that runs more than 900 kilometers from east to west along Nepal's southern border. It is unknown how many there were at the time due to a lack of data, but it is known that the rich floodplains of the Koshi, Gandaki, and Karnali rivers provided them with the food they needed. They could also move freely given the absence of humans due to the high prevalence of malaria. Over time, however, the construction of villages and the development of roads in the Terai eventually hampered their free movement. The fragmentation of the territory led to the formation of two distinct groups of pachyderms.

Bahundangi village, now home to some 23,000 people, most of whom have migrated from the hills, was the epicenter of human-elephant conflict in Nepal a decade ago. Every year during the dry season (between September and November), the enormous migrating mammals would cross the border from India, trampling fields, destroying homes, and sometimes killing villagers. The Jhapa district forest office also reports that around 20 elephants died between 2012 and 2022.

“It is in the nature of these animals to travel several kilometers every day. As long as they can meet their food needs in the forest, they rarely venture near human settlements,” says Mr. Pradhan.

“Today, with the gradual disappearance of forests and the scarcity of food sources, they are forced to approach farms and homes to find something to eat.”

At the time, each of their passages caused enormous economic losses. Elephants devoured rice and corn crops, staple foods on which local farmers depended for their survival. In 2010 alone, nearly 100 homes and grain warehouses were destroyed during an elephant passage, and at least three villagers died.

In 2015, mounting losses prompted the federal government, with support from the World Bank, to build an 18-kilometer-long electric fence. The idea was to prevent access to homes and farms, but the elephants, incredibly intelligent animals, quickly adapted.

“They used their tusks to break the upper cables, rendering the fence useless in several places,” said Shankar Luitel, a local conservation officer.

The installation did, however, significantly reduce crop damage. The authors of a 2018 study found a 93% reduction in crop losses and a 96% reduction in property damage. However, elephants continued to cross the barrier, and locals had to rethink their approach.

The Nepalese government adopted a guideline on compensation for damage caused by wildlife in 2009. The document, which was criticized for being too long and not providing sufficient compensation to victims, has been revised and updated several times.

“Before, when an elephant killed someone or destroyed crops, the victims were left to fend for themselves,” says Arjun Karki, a local representative.

“Now families are receiving financial assistance. Let’s just say it helps to make things easier to swallow.”

However, the directive alone would not have changed attitudes. The intervention of Shankar Luitel, the local conservation officer, proved crucial.

Shankar Luitel worked to ensure that everyone had access to compensation, including illiterate farmers. He created simplified claim forms to make it easier for victims to apply. To receive compensation, claimants must first obtain a letter from the police and local authorities. Claims involving death caused by an attack are submitted to the district forestry office, while claims involving crop losses are submitted to the district agricultural office.

Since 2015, Mr. Luitel has supported several families in the following procedures:

“I have put together up to 80 files in a single year.”

According to Mr. Rasaili, the farmer, one of the many people he helped, “it was reassuring to have someone like him by [your] side because we knew we would receive the compensation.”

However, the elephants continued to enter the village, and farmers continued to lose crops. Victims often had to wait months for compensation. Fatal encounters continued to occur. It was now clear that fencing alone would not be enough, and residents would have to find another way to protect their livelihoods without confronting the passing animals.

The adoption of elephant-resistant agriculture has helped change this. Locals have begun to shift away from rice and corn to crops that these enormous mammals don't eat, such as tea, bay leaves, and lemons.

Arjun Karki spearheaded the initiative by encouraging villagers to abandon corn and rice cultivation. He says that initially, farmers, accustomed to growing rice, a staple crop in Nepal, were skeptical.

“Two years later, we harvested the first tea leaves. We had to cross the border by bicycle to sell the first 35 kilos because there is no market here,” he recalls. With the money they received, they were able to buy rice.

“After a few years, we switched from bicycles to oxcarts. Then, over time, we started using tractors,” he adds.

Initially, 65-year-old farmer Diwakar Neupane was reluctant to replace corn and rice with tea. After a few years, however, he began to see the benefits .

“It was difficult at first. But now I can count on a stable income and I no longer have to worry about elephants eating my crops.”

Water and labor shortages also prompted local farmers to abandon rice cultivation. As they converted, Bahundangi's farmland became less attractive to elephants.

According to Arjun Karki, annual tea sales bring in around 22 million Nepalese rupees [136,404 euros] for the village. Farmers have also started growing bay leaves and lemons, further diversifying their sources of income.

The experience of the Bahundangi residents echoes the work of researcher Ashok Ram and his colleagues.Their 2021 study found that most victims of elephant attacks were men (87.86%), and generally less educated. A quarter of the attacks also occurred when men chased the elephant, often a solitary male or a group of young males.

The findings also indicate that attacks are more frequent outside protected areas and that the risk of death is higher among people who are drunk or use firecrackers. In contrast, the use of fire does not appear to increase the risk of death. The authors also note that attacks often occur near forests and disproportionately affect marginalized communities.

“Elephants generally don't attack unless provoked. If left alone, they continue on their way peacefully. However, when they are chased or injured, they remember this and may adopt defensive behavior,” explains Narendra Man Babu Pradhan.

In 2022, Mr. Karki campaigned for the presidency of Ward 4 of Mechinagar Municipality, where Bahundangi is located. He was elected on the promise of solving the problem of elephant attacks in the village. A year ago, he invited Kedar Karki, the head of the Koshi provincial government, to tour the area to raise awareness about human-elephant conflict.

With farmers adopting elephant-resistant crops, sources of conflict have become fewer.

In recent years, Bahundangi residents have also taken up beekeeping, as the presence of bees serves as a natural deterrent to these mammals. “Smallholders are encouraged to grow mustard because it attracts bees and thus contributes to beekeeping initiatives,” says Karki. This approach not only helps protect crops, but also provides residents with an additional source of income.

The community also mobilized volunteers and created a rapid response team to train animals away from residential areas and allow them to move safely through migratory corridors.

“People who wander the streets at night after consuming alcohol are vulnerable to attacks,” says Sadesh Paudel, a 26-year-old elephant observer . “When the elephants arrive, only team members should be in the area.”

The rapid response team, formed by the NGO Ujyalo Nepal and the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development, an intergovernmental body based in Kathmandu, is made up of volunteers who intervene safely when elephants enter the village, particularly during harvest time.

The situation really changed about a decade ago, when these solutions began to bear fruit. The last fatal elephant attack in Bahundangi was in 2015. Manahari Dhungel, a 65-year-old man, was killed while collecting fodder in the forest.

“The police, who were chasing the animal away, were making noise to warn people,” recalls his widow, Tika Maya Dhungel. “My husband had covered his head with a hat to protect himself from the cold. He didn’t hear the screams. The elephant trampled him.” Thanks to cohabitation strategies, no other deaths have been reported since.