As the media cameras hover over a youth group of 70–80 students, men on the left and women on the right, they lash out at the booms: “The government should feel ashamed! Its young generation has been suffering silently, raising demands in a democratic manner. And what are they doing? Ignoring our voices. The Adivasi will not be silent now. We are the children of Birsa Munda,” says a youth, his fists clasped. “There will be consequences if anything happens to our brothers and sisters who have been on a hunger strike,” says another young woman. 

A group of medical staff intervene as they check the vital parameters of the students lying down at the Manjari ST (Scheduled Tribes’) Hostel on the outskirts of Pune, Maharashtra. Sleeping on cotton mattresses, covered in dusty blankets, these students on a hunger strike, gather all the energy when questions are posed to them. A group of students sit around their heads, whispering in their ears about the delegation which has left to speak with the government. The blue table fans are tilted horizontally, to give relief to the students lying down, weak from not eating for 14 days.

Other protesters are busy checking their social media feed. Some live stream the protest on their personal social media handles. A public announcement system is in use almost all the time, motivating the students to fight for their rights.

At the hostel are posters of Dalit icon Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, the 19th-century educator-social reformer Savitribai Phule, and the 19th-century Maratha emperor social reformer Chhatrapati Shahu Maharaj. One is of Birsa Munda, the tribal leader the young woman referred to, who fought for indigenous rights. The government celebrated his 150th birth anniversary in 2025 with much ado. 

Tribal students have been protesting from August 12–13 in at least 25 parts of Maharashtra, to draw the government’s attention to their long-pending demands. These include the filling up of 12,500 government-job positions for tribals, as directed by the Supreme Court in 2017; better living conditions, kitchens, and reading rooms in hostels; improved and expanded educational facilities and infrastructure. 

The government has so far held four rounds of talks with the protesters in Manjari. Of their list of 14 demands, it has so far accepted one, suspending the age limit clause for admission to the tribal government hostels. The protesters say they are positive their other demands will be met too. 

The government says it is sensitive towards the tribals’ demands. On August 28, the protest entered its 16th day, as political mobilisation around it has grown. 

Hunger caused a strike  

Hung from the ceiling in the corridor where the protest is taking place are effigies of tamasha performers, legs dangling overhead. Tamasha is a local folk dance and is also a word used pejoratively in Marathi to refer to drama. The protesters, most in their 20s, have put them up satirising what a senior administrative officer said. “’Stop your tamasha,’ he told us. So we hung these here, to tell him that we won’t,” says a woman.

The narrow lane leading to the three buildings of the government-run tribal boys’ hostel on the outskirts of Pune has been unusually abuzz with activity since Congress leader Rahul Gandhi’s Pune visit. In his ‘Chhatron ki Goonj’ (Resonating Sounds of Students) rally held on August 22, he gave the protesting students a platform to speak and thereafter wrote a letter to Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis, asking him to address the concerns of the students. It was after this that the age cut-off in hostels was removed. 

Women come to the protest site daily, commuting about 4 km from the girls’ hostel. Sometimes there may not be electricity or water; sometimes the bus is delayed.  

Outside the narrow lane of the hostel, police bandobast (arrangement) has increased. So has the footfall. Several political parties and social organisations have visited to express their support. When political parties’ delegations give lofty promises of support, the girls quickly seek their names and contact details.

The residents of the buildings around the hostel in the residential area are piqued by the rise in social interest. Standing around the muddy ditches in the lane, they whisper to each other about the flow of visitors.

As a doctor from the nearby Loni Kalbhor Public Health Centre checks the blood sugar and blood pressure levels of the agitating students, 26-year-old Shweta Irnak shrieks, her body convulsing. The doctor is unable to draw blood from her fingertips for a routine blood sugar level test. “They have pricked all my fingers. I can’t take it anymore,” she says, as the doctor announces that she needs to be moved to the hospital immediately.

“Their condition is critical. Shweta needs immediate medical attention. We have already evacuated Nikita Mechikar to the health centre,” says Dr. Manoj Thawre. Of the six tribal students on a hunger strike in Manjari, Shweta is the second and the only girl at the protest site now. Nikita is under medical supervision at the Loni Kalbhor Primary Health Centre after she refused to go to a larger medical facility, Sassoon Hospital, about 15 kilometres away.

The medical team says that the blood pressure of all the protesting students has dropped; so has their blood sugar level. “But we are giving them only symptomatic treatment as they have refused to take any medicines. We administer IV fluids, but they come back to the protest site,” he says. A nurse on rotation duty writes down the vital parameters of all the students on a chart.

For Nikita Mechikar, Shweta Irnak, Sharad Thokal, Rajaram Padvi, Vijay Bamble, and Rahul Dhanve, their hunger strike is a mission to force the government to hear their voices. These tribal youth from different parts of Maharashtra are united by their resolve not to give up.

First-generation learners   

The immediate trigger for the protest this year was the government order issued on August 5, which capped the age limit for stay in the tribal hostels at 26 years. Several students say the hostel gives them the place to study for competitive exams and apply for jobs in the city, so that they can eventually stand on their own feet. 

Tribal organisations and students’ unions gave a memorandum to the government, seeking that the age limit be scrapped. After protests started in different parts of Maharashtra, the government issued a fresh order on August 14. In this order, they increased the age limit to 30 years. By this time, the protests had already begun, and were fuelled by the death of three tribal girls from snake bite at a private aided tribal ashram school in Gadchiroli. The protesters demanded that the families of these girls receive compensation of ₹1 crore. They also asked for health insurance. 

“There is so much competition in education, in jobs. Several of us are the first generation in our families to go for higher education. We don’t have any resources to stay in big cities, to find jobs,” says 21-year-old Gauri Pardhi from Junnar, a taluka in Pune district. Sitting at the protest site, she talks about how her younger brother is also a part of a similar protest in Ghodegaon, about 75 km away. 

The government has now scrapped the age limit, but Vijay Waghmare, Secretary, Tribal Development Department, says the original intent of putting an age cap for stay in hostels, was to give younger tribal girls the opportunity to come and study in large cities. 

The students say that the state needs to build capacity to absorb more tribals in hostels. “For several years, the government has not increased the number of tribal hostels or the number of students who can be accommodated in them. Give us opportunities to study. Build more hostels,” says Navnath More, a protester. According to the state government, 59,020 students stay in 490 tribal hostels in Maharashtra.

Among the list of demands the tribal students have made, is the withdrawal of Government Resolutions that restrict student assembly, protests, and union participation. They have also sought an immediate halt to invasive and compulsory medical practices, such as pregnancy tests in female tribal hostels, and have demanded better security for students. 

“Most of these demands have been made each year. We have sat for these protests for the last four years, ever since I entered the hostel. Why do we have to protest every year to make ourselves heard, to get basic concerns like safety and hygiene addressed?” asks Pardhi.

Students also want the central kitchens which supply food shut, so fresh food is cooked at each tribal school location. “The tribal ashram schools are located far apart. Often, the food is cooked several hours before, and transported up to 100 km. There are times it goes bad. The children stay hungry,” says Suchitra Pagi, also on protest.

Government officials say central kitchens are easier to monitor. “Quality control becomes easier. Local level complaints of bad food are avoided. This is a tried and tested model,” an official of the Tribal Department says. For the tribal students studying in colleges, the protesters want the government to halt the Direct Benefit Transfer money and provide messes in each hostel instead.

On the filling of job vacancies, a government official says, “It is not something that can be done overnight. Our talks are on. We will find a way to handle this, but many departments are involved.” Maharashtra’s Tribal Affairs Minister, Ashok Uike, told the protesters that he would discuss the issue with the Chief Minister and find a resolution.

In the last meeting held between the protesters and the government, on August 26 evening, both parties came out saying their conversation has been positive. “In our meeting which lasted till late night, the government has sought two days to get a draft in writing for the fulfillment of our demands,” says Pagi. “We are prepared to go till the end to get our demands fulfilled.”

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