Erratic weather, rising waters, and stalled government response are making life on the island impossible

Kottayam, Kerala: “Most residents here keep a second house in the nearby town to secure a better future for their children,” said Rangaprasad RS (42), a farmer who travels daily to Mundar island in Kerala’s Kottayam district to tend his fields and visit his parents. Though just 4 km from his new home, poor roads mean it takes him at least 30 minutes to reach central Mundar.

Rangaprasad RS, standing in central Mundar, the region most troubled by floods (Photo - Nisha Matamp, 101Reporters)

“Every six months, floods force us to move, adding nearly Rs 7,000 a month in extra expenses,” said Sulochana (50), a MGNREGA worker. Her two sons now live in a rented home outside Mundar, while she and her husband, a farmer, remain behind. During farming season, their household income ranges between Rs 15,000 and Rs 30,000 per month.

In June 2024, when Mundar flooded, Sulochana had to walk 20 minutes on a slippery, erosion-prone bund road, the only elevated stretch, just to reach a functioning toilet at her father’s house.

(Above)The condition of bund road (below) bund road covered with geo textile (Photo - Nisha Matamp, 101Reporters)

Mundar, part of the below-sea-level farming region of Kuttanad, has always been flood-prone. Reclaimed from Vembanad lake, the island was declared a Ramsar site in 2002. The 2,500-acre landscape, with lotus-filled canals snaking through green paddy fields, is ideal for growing tapioca, bananas, and vegetables. But increasingly erratic and frequent flooding has made life harder here.

“When land in Ernakulam cost Rs 10,000 per cent, an acre in Mundar was just Rs 7,000,” said Sasikumar VK (62), a farmer and member of the Kallara panchayat. “That affordability drew 426 families, mostly from Scheduled Caste and Scheduled Tribe communities.”

Now, only 191 families remain. Many children have moved out, often offering parents temporary shelter during floods. “Our grandchildren keep calling us, and our daughter doesn’t let us sleep here when water rises,” said Ramendran VK (65), a farmer. “By evening, we go to her house and return in the morning.”

Sarallappan Kuttappan (56) said his daughter, like most island women, moved out during her pregnancy.

Electricity consumption data proves this. In 2015, only 10% of houses were partially vacant. By 2022, this rose to 27.4%, and between 2015 and 2023, nearly 45% were vacant at some point.

Yet only two households have discontinued power connections, a sign many still hope to return.

Roads built in phases, spanning over decades (Photo - Nisha Matamp, 101Reporters)

Double trouble

In 2024, Mundar saw four floods and by July of this year, it had already seen three.

“Some 40–50 years ago, this place used to flood twice a year,” said Shaji AP (55), a farmer who now sells lottery tickets. “But now, even a short downpour can submerge Mundar.”

“Earlier, rainfall was spread over days. Now we get a day’s worth in just two hours,” said an irrigation engineer.

These intense showers overwhelm Mundar’s canals, triggering flash floods. Since the island lies in a floodplain, excess water from the Muvattupuzha river’s catchment pools here before draining into Vembanad lake.

Notably, one-day heavy rainfall events in the region have become 17% more intense over the last 45 years, according to World Weather Attribution. If global temperatures rise by 2°C, that could increase to 21% compared to 1750 - 1850.

Kerala’s flood days have also risen. In 2018, the state saw 65 flood days. In 2021, 68. In 2023, 33.

Rain volume and patterns have also shifted. Kerala saw 36% excess rainfall in summer 2025, with Kottayam recording 50% more from March to May 18, according to the India Meteorological Department.

Heavy rains were once confined to the June-September monsoon, but since 2000, unseasonal downpours have been starting as early as May.

These rains often coincide with the opening of the Thanneermukkam bund shutters. Built in 1975 to block saltwater from Vembanad lake and aid paddy farming, the bund once helped clear canals of weeds by letting saline water in.

Now, when the shutters open during summer rain, freshwater dilutes the saline inflow. “Saline water used to kill weeds and clear overgrowth. But if it rains while it enters, it doesn’t work. The natural cleansing isn’t happening,” said Shaji.

Uncontrolled aquatic weed growth is another culprit for the increasing inundation as it can cut water flow by 30-40%, according to the International Commission on Irrigation and Drainage.

As agriculture became less profitable, many fields were left fallow, and canal maintenance suffered. “Of Kallara’s 6,000 acres of paddy land, around 2,200 are fallow and 75% of that is in Mundar,” said Joseph Refin Jefri, former agricultural officer of Kallara panchayat, under which Mundar falls. “Since these areas aren’t cultivated, canals nearby are choked with weeds and silt. That’s worsened flooding.”

Infrastructure bottlenecks add to the problem. “When a bridge is built across a canal, two four-metre pillars are inserted. But the river isn’t widened. It’s like squeezing a four-lane road into two and water faces traffic,” the irrigation engineer said.

Sea level rise has further strained drainage. Kochi’s mean sea level rose from 6,816 mm in 1940 to 7,060 mm in 2023, per the National Oceanography Centre. This has slowed the outflow of water from Vembanad lake into the Arabian Sea, raising flood risks for low-lying areas like Mundar.

Paddy after 13 days of harvest, waiting to be picked up (Photo - Nisha Matamp, 101Reporters)

The floods that broke Mundar

“The consecutive floods of 2018 and 2019 were too much even for flood-prone Mundar to recover from,” said Dileep P N, a lawyer in his 40s who moved off the island in 2011.

On August 15, 2018, Kerala received 853% excess rainfall. Reservoirs overflowed after days of downpours. A year later, on August 8, 2019, another flood struck, this time triggered by a rare mesoscale mini cloudburst, an extreme climate-linked event unprecedented in the region.

Rangaprasad said that during the 2018 floods, while Mundar residents stood chest-deep in water, his family's new home in Kapickad, 4 km away, saw water only up to the foundation.

Sulochana, who took a Rs 3.5 lakh loan after 2018, recalled, “Except for a few floating vessels, we had to buy everything again. The floods destroyed it all. We might have borrowed Rs 10,000 from Kudumbashree [Kerala’s poverty eradication programme] before, but never at this scale.”

Between 1953 and 2011, Kerala recorded Rs 6,935.66 crore in flood-related losses, according to the Central Water Commission. In just three years, 2016 to 2018, the state saw Rs 3,363.44 crore in damages, the Ministry of Jal Shakti said.

After the floods last year, all affected families received state disaster rehabilitation funds through local bodies.

Ramendran, whose rebuilt home is already cracking after another spell of floods, said, “The Panchayat gave us Rs 1.5 lakh, but it took way more. We spent Rs 2.5 lakh.” 

Canal sprawling with lotuses running through Mundar island (Photo - Nisha Matamp, 101Reporters)

The hidden costs of staying back

During floods, education suffers. A private jeep ferries some children, but others wade through muck or skip school entirely. Some teachers even drop students off themselves.

Sanitation is another challenge, particularly for women. “Most women here get urinary infections, some which continue for months,” said Sulochana. Long exposure to stagnant, contaminated water also causes skin and stomach infections.

Ammini Chacko standing in front of a truckload of mud bought by a resident for filling puddles (Photo - Nisha Matamp, 101Reporters)

While the National Service Scheme school offers shelter during floods, few use it. “We hate going to camps. We have to leave our cattle behind. Even if we go, we come back by morning to check on them,” said one resident. The animals are usually tied together on the high bridge during that time.

This year, summer rains bled into the monsoon. “Usually, we drain the paddy fields early to prevent flooding. But this time, the canals and fields were both full. There was no way to pump water out,” said PK Vishwambharan (59), a farmer.

For 45 days, large parts of Mundar were underwater. Drinking water ran out as most panchayat pipes were submerged. 

Traveling to and from the island is also a cause of concern. “Autos only come if they have no other ride. We pay Rs 150 for 3 km, normally it’s Rs 100,” said Shaji. “Can’t blame them, the bund road ruins their vehicles.” Bike repairs are frequent: “At least Rs 1,000 a week,” he said. “Muck gets into the engine and parts break every couple of months.”

Even getting paddy to market is hard. “Last year, three trucks broke down,” said Shibu. “We pooled Rs 9,000 for mud to patch the road so Kerala State Civil Supplies Corporation would send a truck. Even then, it got stuck. We had to hire a JCB to pull it out ourselves.”

Dealing with health emergencies is even worse. “One person had a heart attack. We couldn’t get him to the hospital, we just carried his body,” said Ammini Chacko (67). After being hospitalised for an illness, Rajan RS had to live elsewhere for three months before doctors cleared him to return to remote Mundar.

The only reason many still stay is because they can’t afford to leave. Most residents, like those in Mundar, would relocate, if they had the means, Sarallappan told 101Reporters. 

A study on vulnerable populations states that poverty undermines resilience to climate shocks. 

A resident walks on a log connecting his house to the bund road, as floods recede (Photo - Nisha Matamp, 101Reporters)

Saving Mundar

Even as residents are forced to live with regular flooding, there are some who believe that the situation is not beyond repair.

“When floods become severe, the only solution is to clean water bodies and dig more canals,” suggested an irrigation department engineer.

But canal maintenance has suffered in recent years. Earlier, farmers played an active role in desilting the canals. After the harvest, they would use paddy waste to create a gum-like substance to make bio-bunds which not only held back water but also ensured the canals were cleaned every year as part of the process.

Now, the government has taken over bund construction under schemes like Haritha Kerala, replacing traditional bio-bunds with permanent stone structures. While this has strengthened embankments, it has also reduced community participation and made access to canals more difficult and as a result the upkeep has declined.

“Under Haritha Kerala, the government came and took estimates to clean the canal. But nothing came of it,” said Sasikumar. “Just weeks ago, a Hitachi machine came, cleared a portion, and left before locals could respond.” Residents saw this as a token effort: work done merely for official records without actual impact.

“There’s no single fix,” said Jefri. “All paddy lands should be cultivated twice a year as cultivated land holds more water. Encroachments must go. There was even a proposal by an MLA to desilt the entire 67-km-long canal network in Kallara. That would’ve made a difference.”

But for now, the official response remains limited. “The only thing we can do is move people to camps and give them essentials,” said Johny Thottungel, President of the Kallara panchayat, when asked how they plan to tackle Mundar’s worsening flood situation.

A Kerala State Disaster Management Authority study warns that under a high-emission scenario, Mundar could see floodwaters rise between four and eight metres in future extreme events.

For many residents, that may leave no choice at all.

This project is supported by the Internews Earth Journalism Network with funding from the Swedish International Development Cooperation Agency (Sida)

Cover Photo - Sulochana washing dishes during the third week of floods (Photo - Nisha Matamp, 101Reporters)