Satabhaya, Podampeta and the People Odisha’s Coast Left Behind
Ipsa Tripathy
Bhubaneswar: In Kendrapara district, older residents remember when the Panchuvarahi temple stood about three kilometres from the sea. For generations, people in Satabhaya prayed there, hoping the deity would protect their village from the advancing waves. But the sea kept moving inland, swallowing houses, fields and eventually the centuries-old temple itself. Even after relocating, former residents continued returning to worship there. When the temple finally collapsed, one resident said, it felt as though their last hope of the sea stopping had disappeared with it.
The story of Satabhaya captures a crisis unfolding along Odisha’s coastline. Erosion is not always dramatic enough to make national headlines. Sometimes it takes a few metres of land each year, a house during a storm or an entire stretch of shoreline over several decades. For the people living there, the loss is not measured only in kilometres of coast. It is measured in homes, livelihoods, memories and places they may never be able to return to.
A coastline in retreat
According to the National Centre for Coastal Research’s assessment of shoreline changes between 1990 and 2022, 28.3 per cent of Odisha’s coastline was affected by erosion. The impact varies considerably across districts. Jagatsinghpur recorded erosion along 47.6 per cent of its assessed coastline, followed by Ganjam at 45.7 per cent and Kendrapara at 45 per cent. These figures describe the share of coastline affected by erosion, not the percentage of each district’s land that has disappeared.
The state has also identified villages exposed to coastal erosion. An assessment by Odisha’s Forest, Environment and Climate Change Department reportedly examined 318 villages across six coastal districts, classifying 91 as most prone and another 85 as prone. Projections of future sea-level rise along the Odisha coast vary across studies and scenarios, but rising seas can add to the pressure on shorelines already shaped by waves, tides, storms and changing sediment supply.
Two villages, one in Kendrapara in the north and the other in Ganjam in the south, show what these figures mean for families whose homes lie in the path of a changing coast.
Satabhaya: the village that had to move
Satabhaya, in Rajnagar block of Kendrapara district, was once a group of settlements surrounded by paddy fields and the sea. Over time, repeated erosion reduced the inhabited area. Reports describe how 16 revenue villages spread across roughly 3,440 acres were gradually reduced to two remaining habitations, Satabhaya and Kanhupur. Residents have recalled losing stretches of coastline during successive cyclones and periods of strong wave action.
The relocation process took years. Bagapatia was identified as a resettlement site in 2008, although discussions about moving the vulnerable population reportedly began as early as 1992. By the time relocation gathered pace in the late 2010s, large parts of the original settlement had already been lost. In 2018, 571 vulnerable families were reported to have moved to the Bagapatia colony, around 10 kilometres inland. The Panchuvarahi deity was moved with the community.
For many residents, leaving was necessary. Staying had become increasingly dangerous. But a safer location did not automatically restore the life they had lost.
Reports from Bagapatia describe inadequate drainage, a lack of piped water and limited healthcare facilities. The surrounding land has also proved difficult for families who previously depended on farming and fishing. Residents who once earned a living from their fields or the sea found themselves in a settlement where those livelihoods were no longer readily available.
The consequences can be severe when healthcare is difficult to reach. One reported case involved an 18-year-old pregnant woman who died while travelling to a hospital equipped to handle her emergency. Community representatives have argued that the government provided houses without doing enough to secure livelihoods. For families already coping with displacement, the absence of basic services adds another layer of insecurity.
Some residents have since left Bagapatia in search of work. Reports from 2021 put the number of people who had migrated for employment at around 2,000. Some young women reportedly travelled to garment factories in Kerala, where wages were low relative to the cost of living away from home.
Even the resettlement site faces environmental risks. Bagapatia lies near a river that can flood during high tides, and crocodiles from the surrounding Bhitarkanika landscape may enter nearby waterways. During Cyclone Dana in 2024, reports described floodwater entering homes and roads becoming inaccessible for days. Relocation removed families from one immediate threat, but it did not remove their exposure to environmental hazards.
Podampeta: a village breaking apart
Around 350 kilometres south, near the mouth of the Rushikulya River in Ganjam district, Podampeta has faced a similar struggle. Reports describe the sea advancing towards the fishing village from around 2007. By 2011, erosion had divided the settlement into separate fragments, and hundreds of households had been displaced. One account estimated that about 475 households were affected and that roughly 200 houses had been lost over 15 years. The houses that remain face an uncertain future.
Relocation took place in stages. Around 102 families were reportedly moved to Siddharth Nagar, near Dumunagiri, in 2013. Hundreds more later shifted to the ODRP Colony. But the compensation and housing provided did not always match the needs of larger households. Some residents said the reported compensation of ₹3 lakh per family was insufficient to rebuild their lives.
Moving inland also meant moving away from work. Fishing and fish drying depend on access to the coast, and relocation can make both more difficult. Some families have consequently migrated seasonally to cities such as Bengaluru and Visakhapatnam in search of wages. The community has also become scattered across several resettlement locations, making it harder for relatives and neighbours to maintain the daily relationships that once held the village together.
Some families have raised concerns about how resettlement benefits were distributed. Residents of Kuntiaguda, according to reports, said they wanted to rejoin relatives in New Podampeta but felt unable to do so. Allegations that houses intended for displaced families went to people favoured by local leaders have also been reported. Such claims need to be examined by the relevant authorities, but they point to the importance of transparent and accountable rehabilitation.
Despite the damage, Podampeta has not disappeared from people’s lives. Women still return to the old settlement to clean their houses, pray and light lamps. The village may no longer offer the security it once did, but it remains part of the community’s identity.
Nor has the sea stopped advancing. A recent report described a concrete house being swallowed by waves, prompting renewed demands for a seawall and stone embankment. The district administration ordered an assessment and sought urgent support from the state government. For residents, the immediate concern is the next house, the next stretch of land and the next family forced to leave.
How much is natural, and how much is human-made?
Coastal erosion is a natural process. Waves and currents move sediment along the shoreline, storms reshape beaches, and rivers supply material that helps replenish some coastal areas. But human activities can alter this balance. Ports, seawalls, groynes and other coastal structures can change how sediment moves, sometimes protecting one stretch of shore while contributing to erosion elsewhere.
Reports on Ganjam have linked erosion at Podampeta to nearby coastal development, while describing erosion at Ramayapatna as largely natural and worsened after Cyclone Phailin. In the area north of Paradip port, residents and reports have raised concerns about erosion near rigid coastal protection structures. People in Arjyapalli have also blamed seawalls associated with Gopalpur port for shoreline loss. These claims highlight the need for careful, site-specific studies; coastal erosion rarely has a single cause, and the effects of any structure depend on local currents, sediment movement and shoreline conditions.
Some protective interventions have shown promise. After the 1999 Super Cyclone, geo-synthetic tubes were installed along the coast near Pentha in Kendrapara. Local accounts describe the shoreline there as having remained protected. Such results are encouraging, but no single intervention is suitable for every coast. Protective structures need to be assessed over time to understand their effectiveness, maintenance requirements and possible effects on neighbouring stretches.
Relocation also presents difficult choices. At Ramayapatna, reports say a rehabilitation colony of about 300 houses was built roughly 1.5 kilometres inland, but only a small number of families had moved in. For fishing communities, the sea is not simply a hazard. It is their workplace, source of income and part of their identity. A house inland may offer greater physical safety while making daily work much harder.
Moving people is not the same as rebuilding lives
Satabhaya and Podampeta reveal a weakness in how displacement is often managed. Moving families away from an eroding coastline can save lives, but successful rehabilitation requires much more than providing a house. People need reliable drinking water, drainage, healthcare, schools, transport, secure land rights and realistic ways to earn a living.
There is also a wider policy gap. India has no comprehensive national law specifically designed around all the needs of people displaced by climate change. Proposals concerning climate-related displacement have been discussed, but a durable response requires coordinated planning across housing, labour, disaster management and social protection. Coastal communities need to be involved in decisions about where they move, how their livelihoods will continue and what support they will receive.
Back in Bagapatia, community representatives have called for mangroves to be restored along the coast. Mangroves can reduce wave energy in suitable settings, trap sediment and provide important habitat, although they cannot prevent every form of erosion or replace careful coastal planning. Residents fear that the same pressures that swallowed Satabhaya could eventually threaten their new settlement too.
Odisha has made substantial progress in preparing for cyclones and reducing disaster-related deaths. Coastal erosion presents a slower challenge. It can advance over years, gradually undermining homes and livelihoods before a village is formally recognised as unsafe.
Satabhaya and Podampeta are reminders that the loss of a village does not end when its last house is abandoned. People carry their memories, livelihoods and community ties with them, often into settlements that were not designed around their needs. The question for Odisha is no longer only how to protect the coastline. It is how to protect the people whose lives are bound to it, and how to ensure that when relocation becomes unavoidable, it offers more than a roof over their heads.
