Tea Tribes of Assam: Their Migration Story and Enduring Legacy

I spent a significant portion of my early life among people from the tea communities of Assam. This is not unique to me, but rather to most people in my village or the town of Titabar. Most of these people from the tea community were daily labourers in the tea gardens, plucking tea leaves, cleaning stuff, trimming plants, transporting logs and goods and so on. From where I stood, their lives were quite happening and eventful. They didn’t dream too much, were satisfied with what they had, with the occasional extravagant spending, all accommodated within their weekly wages from their garden. But everyone from the tea community of Assam didn’t have a job in the tea garden, or Saah Bagan, as we call them. Some of them used to be daily help, doing odd jobs in the villages and towns nearby.

During my childhood, a person named Budhu, an inhabitant of the nearby tea garden named Letekujaan and a member of the tea community of Assam, used to visit our home almost daily. He was a daily helper assisting my parents with odd jobs. From bringing firewood to washing to cutting vegetables to picking us up from school, he was a jack of many trades. He didn’t have any fixed daily wage during that time. He had his breakfast and lunch with us, and at the end of the day, would get an amount of rupees 20, 30 or 50, whatever my parents could afford.

Occasionally, he would pocket something higher when my parents could afford it. We didn’t belong to a very well-to-do family and often had financial issues. So, during a financial crisis, my parents would give him some rice, a fish from the pond, some veggies from our family kitchen garden or some old clothes, which he would sell and get some bucks.

In all my life, I have never seen him complaining about anything. Later, I learnt that his father was a daily helper to my grandfather when he was alive. Also, Budhu’s 3 brothers, Sutu, Bikash and another whom I can’t recall, visited our house when I was a child before they got a regular job in the tea garden. But Budhu never got a job. We used to call him Budhu Da or Budhu Brother. Much later, when I was growing up, he told me that his family surname was Tati. So, his full name was Budhu Tati.

I liked this guy a lot, and so did my brother. We would be running around him, just being curious about what he was doing. There was an aura about him, as I could sense as a child, in the way he did his stuff. There was sometimes a show of intelligence, occasionally stupidity and frequently, he was witty. He cared a lot for us in his capacity. Whenever he visited someplace and got something to eat, he would pack a part of it in a piece of paper and bring it for us. It could have been some sweets, candies, jaggery, or some other spicy condiments; it was always a surprise box. Once, he brought a lot of very old copper & bronze coins from the colonial era. I still have those in my store in the form of an album.

He was also a good storyteller, framing his exploits in understandably exaggerated, yet fancy events, and we listened in awe. Budhu belonged to the tea garden community of Assam. They are locally called as Bongali or Bagania, based on who you ask. But some also called their culture Odiya or Oriya, as some of them originated from Orissa or Odisha. They speak a language called Sadri at home. Their ancestors were tricked and brought to work in the Tea Gardens of Assam long back in the early 19th century by the Britishers, and they settled here, never to return to their original homeland. Each family’s story connects to a larger migration that changed Assam forever. Today, 7 million tea community members call this land home.

Seeds of Migration: The Early Days, The Great Exodus of Indian Indentured Labourers

The story of the tea communities of Assam began in the 1830s, when British planters, eager to establish tea plantations, brought about 300 Chinese labourers to Assam. The garden management paid Rs 16 per month to these workers, and they faced deadly diseases and a harsh climate. Most Chinese workers either left or died by the 1860s, so British planters began searching elsewhere for a workforce.

With the failure of the Chinese experiment, British planters turned to the tribal heartlands of central and eastern India. Agents, known as arkattis and sardars, travelled to regions like Chota Nagpur, Santhal Parganas, Bengal, and Orissa, luring impoverished families with promises of good wages and better lives. Many migrants, desperate to escape famine, epidemics, and caste oppression, believed these promises and set out for Assam.

The Journey

Migrants travelled for weeks on foot, by train, and on overcrowded steamers along the Brahmaputra and Surma rivers. Cholera and other diseases were rampant; between 1863 and 1866, out of nearly 85,000 recruited, about 35,000 died before reaching Assam.

Life in the Gardens: Stories of Survival and the Human Impact

Upon arrival, migrants faced inhumane working and living conditions. Planters housed them in overcrowded “coolie lines”, with each worker allotted barely 25 square feet of space. Strict rules controlled every aspect of their lives, from marriage permissions to daily attendance, and families often lived apart. Wages were meagre: men earned Rs 5 per month and women Rs 4, far less than what railway workers received at the time.

Recruitment often relied on relatives already working in Assam. Sardars, who worked in the gardens, returned to their villages and persuaded family and friends to migrate, offering them a sense of familiarity in an unfamiliar land.

Over 60% of migrants came from the Bengal Presidency, with the rest from Jharkhand, Orissa, and other regions. The majority were men, but women and children also migrated, often facing high mortality rates during the journey. The tea communities of Assam are multilingual, speaking Santali, Odia, Assam Sadri, Kurukh, Kharia, and Mundari. Assam Sadri became the lingua franca, and unique festivals and traditions flourished in the gardens.

Legacy and Resilience

By 1947, the tea garden community in Assam had grown to over 3.5 million people. Today, their descendants form about 20% of Assam’s population, living and working across 800 major and 100,000 small plantations. Despite adversity, the community adapted, forming a new identity and contributing richly to Assam’s culture and economy.

Their migration, marked by hardship and resilience, transformed Assam and created a lasting legacy, one that lives on in every tea garden and every cup of Assam tea.

Budhu Da and the later years

When I went to college in the 2000s, away from home, I came to know that Budhu Da’s cousin, from his brother, Sutu, came to stay with my mother as she was alone. He was still in school and used to go to school from our house. It was a win-win for everyone. My mother had company while he got all the benefits of staying in the town. Eventually, he got married and joined the tea garden himself. We are still in touch with their family over the phone.

Budhu Da died a couple of years before that. He had his vices, which took a toll on his health. He used to drink Sulai, a local alcohol, a lot. This is one of the biggest issues in the gardens, and we will talk about this later. I would continue to carry his fond memories till I am around.

Budhu Da’s life, his kindness, his struggles, and his connection to our family reflect the broader story of Assam’s tea garden people. Their journey was marked by hardship, but also by resilience and hope. Today, 7 million tea community members call Assam home, and their legacy is woven into every cup of tea from this land.

Their migration not only built an industry but also enriched Assam’s culture and society. Each family, like Budhu Da’s, carries a story of sacrifice and survival, a story that continues to shape the lives of people in villages like Titabar and across Assam today.

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