Soni Kewat makes duna plates from the leaves of the Sal tree

We have come to visit members of the Kewat sub-caste in the center of bustling Nepalgunj and are greeted by a delightful scene.

A large tarpaulin has been spread out in the road. On top of it sit a score of Kewat women and children surrounded by piles of green leaves. The traffic flows around them and their saris stand out in brilliant color against the urban grime. Neighbors drop by to look and chat, and the occasional cow also wanders by. Whatever is going on here, it is woven into the life of this busy city.

According to the 2021 housing census, there were 184,298 Kewat in Nepal so they hardly qualify as an endangered minority. Nor are they Dalit. The Kewat belong instead to a larger group known as the Mallah who are themselves part of the fourth (worker) caste, Shudra.

I read that the Mallah are viewed with some disdain and treated like Dalit by many authorities, but there is no lack of confidence in this group here in downtown Nepalgunj. They are making duna plates from leaves of the Sal tree that are widely used during festivals. Three generations are hard at work including Mangala Kewat, a granny, several aunts, and two girls – Sanjana, 12, and her sister Muskan, 16. They are friendly and happy to talk to Pinky, who sits herself down in their midst, and they pay no attention to my intrusive camera. There is none of the panic that we detected in our last interview with the Kusbadiya.

I’m looking for an answer to what has become, for us, a key question – whether these sub-castes and social groups are capable of evolving and changing from within.

Lahu Ram Chaudhary, who heads BASE’s operation in this area, provides some background. The original Kewat was a boatman in the India epic Ramyana who ferried the God Rama across the river during his exile and had the impertinence to ask that the God wash his feet before stepping into his boat. As a result, the Kewat became known as boatmen in India and Nepal and ferried travelers across rivers until the advent of bridges. The Kewat stayed with transport and began collecting hay for horses. As horses yielded to tuk tuks they turned to making plates from leaves as they are doing here.

This is all very superficial but it does suggest a group that can spot opportunities and evolve.

Lahu Ram Chaudhary is not so sure and says that the Kewat exhibit many of the exclusionary traits of other sub-castes. They never marry into other castes and will not touch food prepared by others. They also have their own system of conflict resolution. Nor does their attitude to education seem particularly progressive. Muskan Kewat, 16, dropped out of school early to help her family make plates. Until recently, about 25 members of this Kewat group lived in a single large room.

All the same, this group does not seem isolated from larger society like the other sub-castes we have met so far, and there is no suggestion that they are victims of discrimination. This probably has to do with their occupation. Making duna plates, it seems, is not viewed as demeaning or threatened by the advance of technology. It is also catering to a real demand. Many other Kewat families here in Nepalgunj also make duna plates and bowls for use at festivals. The older women also supplement their income by washing dishes for about 1,500 rupees a month.

The plate-making process is all very collegiate. The women head out to the forest in groups of four or five to collect the Sal leaves. They then return and work together in groups like this one to attach the leaves with thin strips of wood. The resulting plate is sturdy and liquid-proof. I ate from one at a recent Tharu home and found it very effective.

How viable is their plate-making business? This group of Kewat is able to make several hundred plates a day and each plate sells for about 5 rupees during the larger festivals or social events. All the same, prices are low because so many other families are making plates and Sal leaves are plentiful. In Kathmandu, however, each plate sells for 30 rupees during the Dashain festival. (The Sal tree is only found in the plains of the Terai which is far from Kathmandu.)

This could open up an income-generating opportunity. If these plate-makers could find a market in Kathmandu they would score big. It should not be too complicated. BASE would need to cover the cost of transport, training in marketing, book-keeping and small business development. The plate-makers might also benefit from a savings group, which is a BASE speciality.

We will suggest this to Dilli and Churna. These women are smart and productive. They would turn any financial support into a sound investment.

Pinky from BASE joins Mangana Kewat and her family as they make duna plates in Nepalgunj.

Next: The Chongiya Beggars