Coconut Start this Economy

We break it to mark auspicious beginnings. The Nicobaris are cracking this wonder nut to restart their tsunami devastated lives.

Born of the loamy red soil of Bengal, the terracotta Bankura horse, with its elegant neck and leaf-like ears, has been this state’s most beloved character and export. Born in the seas swirling around the Lakshadweep islands, neat cans of tuna fish are these isles’ most-recognised export. On the east coast, the distant Nicobar Islands have no real brand presence, besides ornamental carved padauk wood. 

This inequity could soon change, if a product born along north Nicobar’s seas and soil gets poured into our palms, perfumes, pharmaceuticals and our cooking pots. Pure, organic coconut oil, daubed with the ideals of ethical-economy, made by Nicobaris. Ready-for-retail in supermarkets and health boutiques across India, this eco-friendly and health-enhancing oil—carrying the classic fragrance of coastal cooking—will provide a sustainable livelihood solution to people trying to cope with devastation . 

Struck by the Tsunami of 2004, Car Nicobar bore the brunt of the devastation with the largest number of deaths. Beyond the destroyed homes were broken boats, contaminated water and a battered coastline and corals. “What use are teddy bears, when 50 years of development come to a standstill? People just dumped money here, without knowing the culture,” says Dharmananda Sundaray, project-coordinator, Tata Institute of Social Sciences (Tiss), Andaman and Nicobar Tsunami Rehabilitation Project. Most aid was embezzled, and soon enough, the teddy bears were staring out of shop windows. 

Desperately seeking a post-Tsunami recovery in this ecologically sensitive and highly seismic zone, some Nicobaris looked up to the tall swaying fruit palms of their devastated isle, for hope. “People don’t understand the value of homemade coconut oil; our forefathers said coconut oil is the best,” says Irene Mary, coordinator of the Dosti Group, a youth self-help cluster based in Car Nicobar. The islanders have been almost entirely dependent on copra exports for their external needs. But the barter hasn’t benefitted Nicobaris even though trade in coconut kernels has been their historical mainstay, as chronicled by the Roman geographer Ptolemy in the 2nd century CE. As the exchange turned monetary, traders started wading in from the shores, after the rotting moment, so that they could scoop up copra at rock-bottom prices. 

Turning away from these losing tides, the Dosti Group, formed in 2008, withdrew from this exploitative trade. They started converting kernels into organic oil that can command premium prices. All this with a little help from Tiss, which ran a certificate course in sustainable development; NGOs, which offered oil presses; and the Ministry of Science and Technology, which provided the funds (just Rs 10 lakh was enough to get this project running). Going beyond the tradition of breaking a coconut on auspicious occasions, they’re out to prove that this coastal fruit has the power to equitably sustain their island economy. 

With kunheels (natural, thorny, cane scrapers) in their hands, the youth of Car Nicobar have already bottled 100 litres of organic coconut oil for sampling. It’s been dubbed virgin, since pure is an adulterated term in today’s times (like virgin olive oil, this is also a cold pressed product). Now, if the Andaman & Nicobar administration provides the critical final heave to land them on the mainland, the product could be in our markets as soon as the labels and price tags are slapped on the bottles. With 300 tonnes of copra piling up monthly in Car Nicobar alone, these isles can actually spurt forth 150 tonnes of this organic oil per month. 

“When we received a $600 cheque from Paul Deegan, a six-time Everest climber, after the Tsunami, we wondered what to do,” says  Rauf Ali, trustee, Foundation for Ecological Research Advocacy and Learning (Feral), the implementing agency for the virgin coconut oil project.  At the time, growers were getting Rs 4 per coconut, while cooperatives were getting Rs 6. The challenge was to break the local coconut cooperative, run by tribal chieftains who pocketed the profits. Feral did this by upturning the business model, going from a raw to a finished premium-value product. 

Nicobaris did make coconut oil, but it was mostly for household use. “We needed to produce large quantities of oil, in a way that could make a huge difference,”  says Ali. A lightweight, robust press costing Rs 25,000 provided the breakthrough. Though the initial prototype was faulty, after a design tweak in Puducherry, the new machine can extract 5 litres of oil from 60 coconuts per hour, yielding 800 litres a month. 

Dubbed the Deegan Press, after its funder, four machines have been installed in a thatched tsunami shelter, where 18 members of the Dosti Group meet from Monday through Saturday. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, singing carols and folk songs in their lovely voices, they scrape the coconuts on kunheels, before feeding the stuff into the press. “When we grate and sing together, we forget all our difficulties,” says Mary. The Dosti team also services these machines and keeps the process hygienic by wearing headbands and face masks (they saw this on National Geographic). 

Better than homemade, the Deegan Press oil is thicker and more unctuous. Compared to regular coconut oil, virgin coconut oil, much richer in oleic acid, is good for us. Says Vijaya Venkat, eco-health nutritionist: “Coconut is part of our culture and ecologically viable.” She believes “the cholesterol theory came up to discourage use of traditional coconut oil and to push palm oil imports”. This misinformation campaign has trickled into our city kitchens and swept ashore these far islands. Though coconuts still play a ritual part during the Kunseareau and Ossuary festivals, “Sadly, our people have switched to sunflower oil,” says Mary, who loves shark, drumstick and Nicobari aloo perfumed by coconut oil. 

“If they produce ten tonnes a month, you put a crore of rupees into a really poor island economy,” says Ali.  After this, Nicobar would be subsidy-independent. The next obvious stage is to get the diesel sets—that power these islands—to run on coconut oil and earn carbon credits. “For that, you need a willing administration,” says Ali. 

For starters, the local administration can just start  by branding, bottling and marketing it. If we pour this organic oil onto our palms and smear it on our bodies, it could provide a healing touch— equally to our stressed selves and this Tsunami-devastated archipelago.

About The Author

Pramila N. Phatarphekar