In the quiet hills of Konda Binnidi village, deep within Parvathipuram Manyam district, ahaunting image re-emerged—an elderly tribal woman, frail and ill, was carried in a makeshiftdoli (palanquin) over rough terrain for nearly 3 kilometers. Her only crime? Living in a part ofthe state where roads have remained a promise, not a reality.
To those scrolling through social media, it’s just another tragic post. But for the people of KondaBinnidi—and countless other tribal villages across Andhra Pradesh—it is an everyday battle fordignity and survival. Each time someone falls sick, the family must rely not on ambulances, buton rope slings and the strength of their shoulders.
This is not a one-off story. Similar scenes were witnessed just months ago in Ananthagiri ofAlluri Sitarama Raju (ASR) district, where a pregnant woman and a sick elder were also carriedthrough jungle paths. These aren’t isolated cases—they are part of a larger pattern of neglect,playing out silently in the shadows of election speeches and development slogans.
The villagers aren’t silent sufferers. They’ve filed petitions, pleaded with the Integrated TribalDevelopment Agency (ITDA), and approached elected representatives. But promises remain onpaper. Funds have been sanctioned, but not released. Roads have been dug, but not finished.Where a road was laid, one rain was enough to erase it.
What stings most is the betrayal of hope.
When Deputy Chief Minister Pawan Kalyan visited recently, there was a wave of optimism. Hewalked into the village, handed out slippers, and spoke of living among the tribals every twomonths. He promised roads. He promised change. But months later, the only thing that haschanged is the depth of disappointment. The slippers remain, but the roads don’t.
“Why do we have to carry our sick on our backs in 2025?” asks a young villager, his voicetrembling with frustration. “Are we not citizens of the same country?”
The people are not asking for luxuries. All they want is what many take for granted—anall-weather road, a nearby health center, a school that doesn’t require a trek. They are tired ofbeing reduced to photo ops and empty pledges. They are tired of watching their children grow upin the same neglect they were born into.
One tribal elder, eyes clouded with age and pain, put it best:
“You talk about our upliftment. But how can we rise when we are still walking through forestswith the sick on our shoulders?”
Until then, the doli will remain—not as a tradition, but as a tragic reminder of promises unkept.
