By : Addie Chiphang
(From disappearing springs and unfamiliar mosquitoes to violent storms and diseased paddy, remote hill villages are confronting a climate reality that can no longer be dismissed as a distant global problem)
“The climate crisis is not coming to the hills. It is already there.”
In the remote hills of Kamjong district, Manipur, climate change is no longer an abstract phrase confined to international conferences, scientific reports or distant discussions about melting glaciers and rising seas)
It is being experienced on the ground—in the paddy fields, along village roads, inside kitchens, around disappearing springs and in the increasingly uncertain lives of farming families.
For communities living in the interior hills, where agriculture remains closely tied to rainfall, forest resources and seasonal cycles, even a subtle alteration in temperature or rainfall can have consequences far beyond a single failed crop. What villagers describe as changes in the weather over the past seven to ten years are increasingly affecting their food security, traditional farming calendar, water sources, biodiversity and sense of ecological stability.
The experience of Shakok village, along with observations from neighbouring villages in the Phungyar Block area, provides a striking ground-level portrait of a much larger global phenomenon: climate change is reaching even the most remote mountain communities, and it is doing so through multiple interconnected pathways.
A climate once predictable is becoming increasingly uncertain
Eno.Thotchuishang Ningshen Chairman of Phungyar Town People’s Organisation
(Phungyar Block )recalls a time when the hill environment followed a relatively familiar rhythm.
The seasons were distinguishable. Temperatures were cooler. Natural vegetation was abundant. Seasonal fruits and forest foods were more predictable. Certain animals and birds were commonly seen. Water sources appeared and behaved according to patterns known to generations of villagers.
That confidence in the seasons, he says, has progressively weakened.
Over roughly the last seven to eight years, villagers have noticed what they describe as sudden and unpredictable changes in weather. Rainfall no longer appears to follow the patterns familiar to their forefathers. Heavy rain can arrive with extraordinary intensity, while periods expected to bring dependable moisture can instead become uncertain.
Perhaps most strikingly, villagers say mosquitoes—which were previously uncommon or virtually absent in their villages—are now being observed more frequently.
That observation deserves scientific attention.
A changing temperature and humidity regime can alter the geographical range and seasonal behaviour of insects and other disease vectors. The Food and Agriculture Organization has noted that climate change can shift the natural ranges of pests and vectors, while changes in temperature and humidity can create conditions favourable to their expansion.
The appearance of mosquitoes alone cannot establish a particular disease risk. But ecologically, the observation is significant because it may indicate that environmental conditions are becoming suitable for species that were previously constrained by temperature, moisture or seasonal conditions.
For isolated communities, such changes can become an early warning of a broader ecological transition.
When storms enter the home:
Another increasingly visible change is the intensity of storms.
Villagers describe episodes of powerful winds accompanying rainy weather, sometimes driving rain into houses so forcefully that the interiors become soaked. Traditional kitchens, particularly those dependent on open hearths, can become difficult or even impossible to use when rain and wind penetrate the dwelling.
These are not merely inconveniences.
In communities where household energy, food preparation, housing and agriculture remain closely connected to natural conditions, extreme weather can rapidly become a livelihood crisis.
The chairman recalls a particularly unusual flood last year when water suddenly inundated the main village road—an event villagers say had not been witnessed in living memory.
Flooding in a hill village may initially appear paradoxical. Yet mountain landscapes can be highly vulnerable to intense rainfall because steep slopes rapidly channel water into streams and drainage systems. When rainfall falls in a short period, runoff can rise sharply, potentially producing flash floods, erosion and landslides.
The critical issue is therefore not simply whether a village receives “more rain” or “less rain”.
It is how, when and with what intensity the rain arrives.
A seasonal rainfall pattern that once delivered moisture gradually can become far more hazardous if a greater share of rainfall arrives through short, intense episodes interrupted by unusually dry periods.
Shakok’s farmers confront an alarming paddy crisis
The warning signs become even more serious in Shakok, a village of more than 60 households.
During a recent field visit, village headman Person Jajo, accompanied by village authorities including Alfred Keishing and Ngathingkhui Chahong, spoke about changes they have witnessed in their agricultural environment.
The headman says temperatures have risen noticeably over more than a decade, while rainfall patterns have become increasingly erratic over the past four to six years.
But his greatest concern this season is the condition of the village’s paddy crop.
Farmers report that an unusual disease-like condition has spread rapidly across paddy plants, including the variety locally referred to as “aeroplane mah.” Plants that would normally have reached roughly three to four feet by this stage of the agricultural season are reportedly remaining thin and stunted, in some cases reaching only around two feet.
The plants appear affected by what villagers describe as a virus or fungus.
The consequence is frighteningly simple: farmers are no longer confident that they will harvest enough rice.
One farmer said he has repeatedly attempted to remove affected plants manually. Yet, according to him, after clearing the crop one day, symptoms appear again shortly afterwards.
For the first time in his farming experience, he has also resorted to using insecticides.
“Earlier, nobody in the village needed to use insecticides,” is essentially the message emerging from the farmers’ accounts.
That change in farming practice is itself revealing.
Climate change may be creating a new disease environment
It is important, however, not to automatically label the Shakok outbreak a “climate-change disease” without laboratory investigation.
The exact cause must be established through agricultural scientists, plant pathologists and laboratory testing.
But there is a scientifically credible connection between climate variability and the increasing risk of crop pests and diseases.
Warmer temperatures can alter the development and reproduction of insects and other pests. Changes in humidity and rainfall can influence fungal growth and plant pathogens. Alternating wet and dry conditions can place crops under physiological stress, potentially making them more vulnerable to disease. Extreme weather can also damage plants directly and create conditions that favour infection.
The FAO reports that climate change is already altering the distribution and severity of plant pests and diseases, with warmer temperatures, changing rainfall and extreme weather creating new risks for plant health.
Scientific research also shows that warming can allow some crop pests to expand their geographical range, reproduce more rapidly or produce more generations in a growing season.
For Shakok, therefore, climate change may be acting not as a single cause but as a risk multiplier.
A warmer environment, altered rainfall, prolonged leaf wetness, humidity, crop stress and changing pest populations could interact to create conditions that were previously uncommon.
That is precisely why the farmers’ complaints require scientific investigation rather than dismissal.
The disappearance of “Ura-wok”
Perhaps one of the most culturally significant observations from the villages concerns Ura-wok—spring water emerging or oozing naturally from the ground.
Villagers say that for three or four years they have observed the disappearance or severe reduction of this phenomenon during periods when such groundwater emergence would traditionally be expected.
For generations, the appearance of these natural springs and water flows was understood as part of the seasonal rhythm of the hills.
Their weakening could have several possible explanations.
Changes in rainfall intensity and duration can alter groundwater recharge. Heavy rain falling rapidly on steep terrain may produce substantial surface runoff instead of infiltrating deeply into the soil. Longer dry intervals can also reduce groundwater replenishment.
Deforestation, soil compaction, land-use change and degradation of catchment areas can further affect infiltration and water retention.
Thus, what villagers perceive as the disappearance of a traditional spring pattern may represent a combination of climatic and land-system changes.
This is precisely where scientific monitoring becomes essential.
Jhum agriculture stands at a crossroads
For generations, Jhum cultivation has sustained communities across the hill region.
The system is not simply an agricultural technique. It is embedded in culture, food security, labour, land management and community life.
Farmers traditionally rotate cultivation areas, allowing land to recover before returning to the same landscape after several years. In Shakok and surrounding villages, the traditional cycle has reportedly involved shifting cultivation areas approximately every eight to nine years.
When practiced under appropriate ecological conditions and sufficiently long fallow periods, traditional rotational systems can maintain a degree of landscape resilience.
But climate change introduces new uncertainty.
If rainfall becomes erratic, the timing of sowing becomes less reliable. If intense storms increase erosion, newly cultivated slopes may lose valuable topsoil. If dry spells lengthen, seedlings can fail. If excessive rain arrives at the wrong stage, flowering and grain formation can be affected.
And when pests and diseases become more prevalent, the entire labour investment of a farming family can be placed at risk.
The danger is particularly acute because Jhum farming is not merely commercial production. For many households, it is the foundation of food security itself.
A failed harvest today can become hunger tomorrow.
The wider food basket is shrinking
The concerns extend beyond rice.
Villagers report declining or irregular harvests of vegetables and fruit including cabbage, cucumber, brinjal, tomato, potato and beans, as well as orange, lemon, banana and stink bean or yongchak.
Again, not every decline can automatically be attributed to climate change. Crop diseases, soil fertility, pests, seed quality, land-use changes and agricultural practices can also influence yields.
But the cumulative pattern is significant.
Climate change threatens agriculture through multiple simultaneous pressures: heat, rainfall variability, drought, floods, extreme storms, changing pest populations and plant diseases. FAO identifies these combined pressures as major threats to food security and rural livelihoods.
For a remote hill community with limited market access, declining agricultural production can quickly translate into increased dependence on purchased food.
That means climate change is not only an environmental issue.
It is an economic issue, a food-security issue and ultimately a human-security issue.
Communities are already doing their part
The villagers are not passive victims of environmental change.They have banned hunting of wild animals and birds. They have established forest reservation areas. They are attempting to protect biodiversity and preserve the natural systems on which their lives depend.
They say birds that had become increasingly scarce are now returning to some villages.This is an important reminder that local conservation can produce tangible ecological benefits.
Forest protection also has a direct climate-resilience dimension. Healthy forests help regulate local water cycles, reduce erosion, protect soils, store carbon and provide habitat for biodiversity.
But community action alone cannot address every emerging climate risk.
When an unfamiliar crop disease spreads across an entire village, farmers need access to agricultural scientists. When springs disappear, hydrological investigation is required. When rainfall patterns change, communities need reliable weather information and climate-advisory services.
And when crops fail, vulnerable households need institutional support.
From observation to scientific action
The most urgent requirement now is to transform the villagers’ observations into systematic scientific evidence.
The reported paddy outbreak in Shakok should be investigated immediately by qualified agricultural authorities.
Samples of affected plants should be collected and tested to determine whether the problem is caused by a virus, fungus, bacteria, insect vector, nutrient deficiency, environmental stress or a combination of factors.
Farmers should not be encouraged to indiscriminately increase pesticide use before the cause is identified. FAO warns that inappropriate pesticide use can create risks for human health and the environment.
A practical response should include:
First, establish a village-level crop disease surveillance system. Farmers should be able to report unusual symptoms quickly, with photographs and samples reaching agricultural experts.
Second, conduct climate and rainfall monitoring. Temperature, rainfall intensity, humidity and seasonal variation should be recorded in the Phungyar-Shakok area.
Third, map springs and traditional water sources. The condition of Ura-wok and other springs should be documented to determine whether groundwater recharge is changing.
Fourth, promote climate-resilient agriculture. Locally suitable crop varieties, diversified farming, improved soil moisture retention and better water management can reduce vulnerability.
Fifth, strengthen early-warning systems. Farmers need timely information on extreme rainfall, dry spells, pests and disease outbreaks.
Sixth, support community forest conservation. Existing village-level conservation practices should be strengthened rather than treated as peripheral environmental activities.
The hills are sending a warning
The most important message emerging from Shakok and the interior villages of Kamjong is not that every unusual event is necessarily caused by climate change.
The message is more profound.
The environmental baseline is changing.
The temperature feels different. Rain arrives differently. Storms behave differently. Water sources behave differently. Crops behave differently. Insects appear in places where villagers say they were previously uncommon.
Traditional agricultural calendars are becoming harder to predict.
Science must now meet these observations on the ground.
The farmers of Shakok are not asking for sympathy. They are asking for answers.
They want to know what is happening to their paddy. They want their springs protected.They want scientific assistance before disease destroys their harvest.
And, above all, they want their children to inherit a landscape capable of sustaining them.
The international climate debate often speaks in the language of degrees Celsius, greenhouse gases, adaptation finance and emissions targets.
But in the hills of Kamjong, climate change has another vocabulary.
It is the farmer standing helplessly in a paddy field.
It is the spring that no longer appears.
It is the mosquito that was once absent.
It is the storm entering a village kitchen.
It is the crop that grows only half as tall as expected.
And it is the fear that after an entire season of labour, there may be no harvest to bring home.
That is why the experience of these remote hill villages deserves attention far beyond their geographical boundaries.
The climate crisis is not coming to the hills. It is already there.
And the people living closest to the land may be among the first to recognize how profoundly the world around them is changing.
( This Article is written under the Joint Initiative of Directorate of Environment & Climate Change, GoM, Media Resource Centre and Ukhrul District Working Journalist Association ( UDWJA) )