Women bear brunt of rising wildfires in rural India

UTTARAKHAND, 2 OCTOBER 2026 —

Women in Uttarakhand’s Himalayas Bear Unpaid, Unprotected Burden as Wildfires Intensify

With climate change extending the wildfire season into winter and men migrating for work, rural women now shoulder the dual responsibility of managing agriculture and fire defense—often armed with nothing more than household sickles and traditional methods.

The crisis reflects a broader ecological and socioeconomic shift: Uttarakhand’s forests, covering over 71% of the state, provide critical drinking water, firewood, and livestock fodder, but rising temperatures—warming at rates exceeding global averages—are intensifying fire risks while degrading agricultural productivity. Men, increasingly drawn to urban jobs, leave women behind to confront fires that are 95% human-caused, with little institutional backing.

Kavya Pandey, a researcher at Bengaluru’s Centre for Wildlife Studies, highlights how traditional gender roles—such as firewood collection—place women at the frontlines of fire outbreaks. While men are occasionally hired as paid seasonal fire watchers, women receive no compensation and lack protective equipment. Community-led efforts, however, have shown success where women hold authority.

In Marhmanley village, Kamla Devi, head of the local van panchayat (forest council), has organized women to prevent fires through controlled burns and early intervention, keeping the village blaze-free for three consecutive years.

Firsthand accounts reveal the physical toll of fire suppression. Women use jhapa—makeshift brooms made from green branches—to beat back flames, while others clear fire lines with sickles. Asha Devi of Bhetuli village described the process: “When the flames are not too high, we use jhapa to beat them back.

If they are high, we clear a fire line—some push the fire toward already-burnt ground, while others pull away dry grass and twigs.” Yet, the lack of protective gear leaves them vulnerable.

Tulsi Devi of Ayarpani village recounted the immediate dangers: “We are all coughing our lungs out; our eyes are bloodshot, irritated by the smoke, and it’s hard to breathe in the thick air.” Many suffer burns, singed eyebrows, and foot injuries while wearing flammable synthetic sarees.

The absence of formal support extends beyond equipment. Kamla Devi explained how communication relies on traditional methods: “If a woman sees fire and has no phone, she ululates or whistles, and all the women go together to snuff it out.” Her community’s proactive approach—mapping safe burn zones and enforcing controlled fires—has reduced major blazes, but such initiatives remain localized exceptions rather than state policy.

For Uttarakhand’s women, the fire crisis is both a climate and gender equity issue. While men migrate for paid work, women endure unpaid labor in increasingly hazardous conditions. The state’s forest department has yet to integrate them into formal fire-fighting structures, leaving their contributions invisible despite their life-saving role. Without intervention, the burden will only grow as fires spread into winter, threatening livelihoods and ecosystems alike.

The story underscores a regional paradox: as India’s forests become more volatile, the women who defend them remain the most vulnerable. With no immediate policy shifts in sight, their struggle highlights the urgent need for gender-inclusive disaster response frameworks in climate-affected rural areas.

Related: Kamla Devi · Uttarakhand