More than six decades after their lands were acquired for one of independent India’s earliest thermal power projects, many Adivasi families in Jharkhand’s Bokaro district continue to live without secure housing, stable livelihoods or even legal electricity.
Their story is intertwined with the rise of the Damodar Valley Corporation (DVC), established in 1948 as one of India’s first major river valley development projects. Modeled partly on the Tennessee Valley Authority in the United States, the DVC was envisioned as a symbol of modern nation-building controlling floods, generating electricity and accelerating industrial growth.
In the late 1950s, land was acquired to build the Chandrapura Thermal Power Station. Spread across 1,800 acres in what is now Jharkhand’s Bokaro district, around 1,200 acres were taken from local communities, many of them Adivasis. Entire villages, including Jhinjirguttu, were uprooted.
Compensation Without Consent
Under the colonial-era Land Acquisition Act of 1894, displaced families were theoretically entitled to either land-for-land compensation or cash. But residents recount a different reality: limited consultation, inadequate payouts and, in some cases, money that never reached them.
Many families say they were neither informed of long-term consequences nor given viable land alternatives. Cash compensation, often modest, proved insufficient to rebuild agrarian livelihoods elsewhere. Over time, displacement fractured communities and pushed former farmers toward precarious wage labour.
By the 1960s, the plant’s first units were operational. Today, according to recent annual reports, the DVC runs multiple thermal, hydel and solar projects with a combined generation capacity exceeding 6,700 MW, supplying power across eastern India.
Yet some of the descendants of those displaced for this infrastructure depend on informal connections to survive including tapping electricity lines illegally because formal access remains out of reach.
In the 1970s, under mounting pressure, the corporation prepared a “displaced panel” listing individuals eligible for employment. But decades later, only a fraction had been absorbed into formal jobs. Court interventions in the early 1990s led to further appointments and compensation payments, yet many activists argue that large numbers of displaced people were excluded from official records altogether.
While official housing colonies were built for plant employees, displaced Adivasi families largely settled on marginal or government land without clear ownership documents. This lack of legal titles has complicated access to welfare schemes and housing subsidies. In some cases, villagers were asked to produce no-objection certificates from the corporation to access state housing programmes documents they say are nearly impossible to obtain.
Living Beside Power, Without Power
Seven Adivasi hamlets now cluster around the plant’s periphery. Residents describe inconsistent water supply, failing infrastructure and intermittent electricity. In Jharnadih, villagers recall electric poles being installed years ago, only for power to later be disconnected. Since then, many have relied on informal and illegal connections to nearby lines.
Meanwhile, fly ash from the plant coats nearby roads and fields. Farmers in Neer Pipradi say they continue to grow vegetables and paddy for household consumption, but the produce is often unsuitable for market sale.
Corporate social responsibility initiatives have brought some streetlights, school materials and a few water facilities, residents acknowledge. But they argue that such gestures fall short of addressing structural issues: secure land tenure, stable employment, healthcare access and reliable utilities.
Development Uneven Legacy
The DVC was once hailed by leaders such as Jawaharlal Nehru as a “temple of modern India” a symbol of progress and poverty alleviation. The Damodar Valley Corporation Act of 1948 also spoke of promoting public health and economic well-being in the region.
Yet many displaced families say they remain on the margins of the very development built upon their land. While some found temporary or informal work during the plant’s early years, few were absorbed into long-term, secure employment. Over generations, displacement shifted many Adivasi households from land-owning farmers to casual labourers, vendors and coal loaders.
Ironically, despite decades of grievance, some locals welcome plans for a new thermal unit in collaboration with Coal India. In an area where alternative employment is scarce, the plant however unequal its benefits remains central to economic survival.
As Jharkhand explores pathways toward a “just transition” away from coal, the unresolved history of displacement looms large. Policy discussions about clean energy and economic diversification must contend with a legacy in which affected communities were promised dignity and inclusion but often received neither.
For many Adivasi families in Chandrapura, the demand is not abstract justice it is basic security: land titles, electricity connections, water supply, and meaningful representation in decisions that shape their future.
They live in the shadow of a power plant that lights up cities across eastern India. Yet in their own homes, the lights still flicker or must be stolen.