Stork Sister
Purnima Devi Barman (centre) with the ‘Hargila Army’. Photo courtesy: Purnima Devi Barman
For over a decade, the wildlife biologist Purnima Devi Barman has committed herself to the preservation of the greater adjutant in Assam, and has led a community-driven initiative with local women to work towards stork conservation.
At dawn in December, the skies above Naogaon, Assam, come alive with a delicate palette of pastel hues. The chilly morning air is tinged with the pungent odour of the adjutant stork’s droppings. High in the branches of the kadam tree, a group of these majestic birds begin to stir, their expansive wings unfurling like shadows against the soft glow of the rising sun.
The greater adjutant is a towering stork species (Leptoptilos dubius) reaching heights of up to 1.5 meters (5 feet). It was once a common sight across South Asia. However, its unique appearance—a bald head, sagging throat pouch, piercing pale eyes, and spindly legs—combined with its scavenging habits and the peculiar stench of its droppings, make it an unpopular figure among locals.
Beyond the surface, however, the bird holds significant cultural and ecological importance to this region. Leading the path on the battle for their conservation is Purnima Devi Barman, the wildlife biologist affectionately known as ‘Hargila Baido’ (Stork Sister). For over a decade, Barman has committed herself to the preservation of the greater adjutant, and in 2010, established the Hargila Army, a community-driven initiative led largely by local women to work towards stork conservation.
One of Barman’s greatest challenges was transforming the stork’s image from an unattractive, unclean creature to a source of pride and ecological value. She has been achieving this by weaving the hargila into local festivals, artistic expressions, and cultural practices.
Barman shared her journey with me when I reached out to her via email. One December morning, she received a distressing phone call about the destruction of trees and the killing of storks by villagers. The news deeply troubled her and became the catalyst for her journey as a conservationist and environmental activist. A row of kadam trees lining the highway had been chopped down. Several stork nests lay scattered on the road, and many innocent chicks, occupying the nest, lay dead as a result. The townsfolk were intent on wiping out the population of storks because of their scavenging habits and dirty smell associated with the species.
The sight of the dead chicks and scattered nests broke Barman’s heart. She knew there and then that she had to act and made a resolve to herself to dedicate herself to save the bird and its habitat in her home state of Assam. She felt convinced that if the locals were made to understand the significance of the adjutant storks, they would not harm the species.
One of Barman’s greatest challenges was transforming the stork’s image from an unattractive, unclean creature to a source of pride and ecological value. She has been achieving this by weaving the hargila into local festivals, artistic expressions, and cultural practices. Thanks to her efforts, the hargila population in Assam has undergone a remarkable resurgence, and her work has earned her global acclaim—like the Whitley Award, often referred to as the "Green Oscar,” conferred on her in 2024, in recognition of her exceptional contributions to wildlife conservation.
Barman’s journey stands as a powerful example of how community-led conservation and culturally sensitive activism can create lasting change. As a young girl, she often wandered through the wetlands of Assam with her grandmother, who would lovingly point out birds and their nests. One unforgettable day, they came across a greater adjutant stork’s nest perched high in a tree. Her grandmother paused and told her, “These birds are like family. They bring life to our land.” Those words stayed with Barman, planting a quiet but powerful seed in her heart.
Years later, as she embarked on her journey to conserve the storks, she often revisited that memory. It reminded her that her mission wasn’t just about science or conservation—it was about honouring her roots and the deep bond between her community and the natural world. Barman confided in me that it was that early encounter with the greater adjutant stork became the defining moment that shaped her life’s purpose.
The greater adjutant stork. Photo courtesy: Purnima Devi Barman
Once widespread across South and Southeast Asia, the greater adjutant stork is now one of the rarest stork species in the world. Its population plummeted when the Bhokha Beel Wetlands and nesting kadam trees were cleared for urbanization and agriculture. The storks, which feed on waste, were exposed to toxins in garbage dumps. By the early 2000s, fewer than 1,200 individuals remained globally, with Assam being one of their last strongholds.
Barman understood that saving the storks was a task too great for one person alone. She started by reaching out to the women in her village, many of whom initially viewed the storks as dirty scavengers. One day, she invited a group of women to witness the hatching of a stork chick. As they stood together, watching the mother stork tenderly feed her newborn, Barman told me that one woman softly remarked, “It’s just like us, caring for our children.” That simple observation sparked a profound shift. The women began to see the storks not as nuisances, but as part of their shared community. Inspired, they came together to form the Hargila Army.
Reflecting on their efforts, Barman says, “It wasn’t me who saved the storks—it was these women, with their love and determination.”
On a rainy afternoon, Barman got a call about a stork with a broken wing. Without hesitation, she hurried to the spot and found the bird lying helpless in the mud. Gently, she wrapped the stork in a cloth, whispering, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” Over the following days, she carefully nursed the bird back to health, feeding it and keeping it warm. When the stork was finally strong enough, she released it back into the wild. As she watched it take flight, soaring into the sky, a bittersweet feeling washed over her. “It’s like letting go of a child,” she later admitted. That stork became a powerful symbol of hope for Barman—a reminder that even the most broken beings can heal and find their way back to freedom.
Determined to shift her community’s perception of the storks, Barman decided to celebrate them in a way no one had before. She organized a festival dedicated to the birds, inviting everyone—children, elders, and even those who doubted her cause. The festival was alive with music, dance, and heartfelt stories about the storks. At one point, Barman stood in front of the crowd and declared, “These birds are not just birds. They are our ancestors, our teachers, our friends.”
The hargila population in Assam has seen a dramatic rise, with nesting sites expanding from fewer than 30 to more than 200. The Hargila Army has emerged as a leading example of community-led conservation, motivating similar projects across the globe.
Over time, the festival became an annual tradition, and the storks, once seen as pests, transformed into symbols of pride for the community. Now Barman gets emotional as she reflects on that first festival. “It was the moment I realized we were not just saving storks,” she says, “we were saving ourselves.”
These storks typically built their nests high up in tall silk cotton trees, leaving the chicks vulnerable during storms or strong winds. Barman taught her Hargila Army to hang nets on the lower branches. This simple yet ingenious solution ensured that even if nests toppled, the stork chicks would remain safe, cradled in the nets below.
The local women were further trained to protect nesting sites, monitor stork populations, and raise awareness in their communities. Barman empowered these women, many of whom were homemakers, by instilling in them a sense of purpose and leadership in conservation. Each morning, clad in vibrant mekhela chadors (Assam’s traditional attire), they gathered in open spaces, donning large papier-mâché hargila headpieces, clapping and singing in celebration of the storks.
Barman and her team conducted workshops in schools and villages using stories and songs to educate people about the hargila’s role in the ecosystem, such as scavenging waste and controlling pests. In 2021, Barman established the Hargila Learning and Conservation Centre in a government school in Pacharia village, where Hargila Army members use songs, art, and games to encourage children to protect the birds. She collaborated with researchers and conservation organizations to study the storks’ behaviour, nesting habits, and threats. She advocated for the protection of nesting trees and worked with local authorities to enforce conservation laws.
She has also worked with local weavers to create hargila-themed saris and gamchas, making the bird a symbol of pride and cultural identity. Assam has a rich tradition of weaving, so Barman secured funding for 30 looms and provided training in weaving the hargila motif into fabrics, providing women with an independent income.
Above all, she is credited for instilling a sense of guardianship in men of the local community as protectors of the storks’ habitat, instead of them feeling like victims. As a result, not a single nesting tree has been cut down since 2010.
However, the journey has not been without its bumps. One year, Barman noticed that a stork nest she had been monitoring was empty. The chicks were gone, likely taken by predators. She sat beneath the tree for hours, staring at the empty nest. “It felt like a part of me was missing,” she told me. But instead of giving up, she used that pain to fuel her work. She strengthened her efforts to protect the nests, working tirelessly to ensure that no more chicks would be lost. “Every loss reminds me why I do this,” she said. “Because every life matters.”
It is due to Barman’s dedication, the conservation efforts towards saving the hargila have yielded extraordinary outcomes. The hargila population in Assam has seen a dramatic rise, with nesting sites expanding from fewer than 30 to more than 200. The Hargila Army has emerged as a leading example of community-led conservation, motivating similar projects across the globe.
Barman’s efforts transcend species conservation, showcasing the transformative potential of community engagement, cultural integration, and innovative approaches. Her story is a beacon of how a woman’s passion and resolve can drive meaningful global impact. In 2022, she and the Hargila Army were conferred the UN Environment Programme’s Champions of the Earth award—given for her “entrepreneurial vision” in using conservation to improve women’s economic status. In an interview to The Guardian following this honour, Barman said, “I’ve always believed that, if given a chance, women can make a big difference in conservation.” Earlier this year, she became the only Indian women named to TIME’s Women of the Year list for 2025.
Barman now juggles a job as a biologist at Aranyak, a wildlife non-profit organization based in Guwahati, continuing to help preserve the hargila. Her life is a testament to the power of love, community, and resilience. Her stories are not just about saving a bird—they are about the bonds that connect us to each other and to the natural world. Through her intimate, heartfelt efforts, she has shown that even the smallest actions can create ripples of change.
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Vinita Agrawal's poetry collections include Twilight Language / The Natural Language of Grief, Two Full Moons, Words Not Spoken, The Longest Pleasure, and The Silk Of Hunger. She had edited the collections Count Every Breath, Yearbook of Indian Poetry in English, and Open Your Eyes. You can find her on Twitter: @vinita65 and Instagram: @vinitaagrawal18.
