Longi Manjhi, a Bhuiyan community elder from Kothilwa in Gaya, Bihar, has spent more than three decades digging canals, building small dams and redirecting water from the Khajuria hills to villages and farmland.
Working largely alone with basic tools, Manjhi mapped the hilly terrain, dug through steep ground and broke rocks to create canal networks that have made water available to villagers throughout the year. His mission began after friends migrated to towns and cities because of a lack of livelihood opportunities in their villages. Manjhi wanted to make agriculture viable enough for people to stay and return home.
His work has helped local farmers move beyond mainly lentil cultivation, with some now growing paddy and vegetables. Yet, despite decades of labour, Manjhi says he has received no payment for the work he considers his contribution to the villages.
Now in his 70s, he is working on what he calls his final canal project, but even a Rs 200 crowbar needed to break rocks has become difficult for him to afford. He hopes the government will recognise his labour and provide the support needed to complete the project.
A Canal Built By Hand
Manjhi’s story is rooted in the difficult terrain around Kothilwa, where government officials had previously assessed the area but reportedly concluded that taking mountain water to the villages was not feasible. Manjhi decided to attempt it himself. Over the years, he developed small dams and canal routes designed to hold and release water between the hills and the settlements below. He understood that water had to be carefully managed to prevent flooding while ensuring that it reached farmland.
His work eventually created a network of canals and dams that made water accessible across the year. The impact has been particularly significant for villagers who had limited livelihood options. Teacher Rinku Kumar, who has worked in the area for nearly two decades, said farmers had previously been largely restricted to lentil cultivation, while cutting wood or migrating were among the few alternatives. Villager Sahdeo Majhi said life changed after Longi’s work, allowing him to grow paddy and vegetables rather than work only as a farm labourer or leave for a city. “Life has changed for us after his work,” Sahdeo said.
The scale of Manjhi’s contribution becomes clearer when viewed against the conditions in which he worked. He spent decades in the hills with a spade, hammer and crowbar, despite being called “mad” by people around him and facing resistance from his own family.
His mother reportedly tried to persuade him to stop going to the hills, while others questioned why he was spending his time on what they considered a futile effort instead of earning for his family. Yet Manjhi continued raising his children while simultaneously building canals.
He says his motivation came from watching friends leave the village in search of stable incomes. “I looked for solutions to bring them back,” he said. His larger goal has remained the same: create enough agricultural opportunity for families to earn and live together in their villages rather than being forced to migrate for work.
A Mission Still Unfinished
Despite the impact of his work, Manjhi’s own financial circumstances remain difficult. He receives a pension of Rs 1,100, which he said was previously Rs 400. He also says he has not received wages for the decades of labour invested in developing the canal network. Rinku Kumar estimated that if Manjhi’s work were considered MGNREGA labour, his unpaid dues over three decades could amount to Rs 27 lakh.
The article also notes that Longi’s work aligns with the broader idea of conserving water and promoting greenery. The biggest landmark in the area is now known as “Longi Dam”, constructed with government funds and reflecting the water-management system he had envisioned.
Now, Manjhi is working on what he describes as the final canal project of his decades-long mission. He wants to raise the height of an existing dam and create canal routes that could carry water towards five settlements in each of two directions. But his immediate challenge is strikingly modest: he needs a new sabbal, or crowbar, to break large rocks. A blacksmith asked Rs 200 to make one, but Manjhi said he could offer only Rs 50. “How can I pay him Rs 200? I don’t have that kind of money,” he said.
Even so, he remains determined to continue. He wants the government to provide what he sees as his rightful wages and has also sought land near his canal for farming. If his demands are not met, he has considered asking farmers who benefit from the water to provide him with a share of their crops.
The Logical Indian’s Perspective
Longi Manjhi’s story is not simply about one man digging canals. It is about what can happen when an ordinary citizen refuses to accept that a longstanding problem has no solution. For more than 30 years, he has invested his labour in a goal larger than himself: making water available so that people can farm, earn and potentially remain close to their families. At the same time, his story raises an important question about how society and institutions value grassroots work.
A person should not have to spend decades being called “mad” before his contribution is recognised. His determination deserves respect, but recognition alone cannot substitute for meaningful institutional support, fair compensation and community participation.
As Manjhi himself continues working towards his final canal, his story reminds us that sustainable change is strongest when individual determination is supported by collective responsibility. What more can governments and communities do to recognise and support people who quietly solve problems at the grassroots?
Also Read: Unsung Legends: The Forgotten Heroes Who Shaped Jharkhand’s Freedom Struggle
