<p> Bengaluru: On the peripheries of Bengaluru, the tides of urbanisation are relentless. The transformed landscape of Devanahalli stands testament to this. Here, agricultural land is hemmed in by towering hotels, sprawling commercial complexes, a winding network of motorways, and numerous industrial zones.</p>.<p>Two decades after the Kempegowda International Airport project catalysed urban expansion in the region, a lingering insecurity remains among former residents of relocated villages. In Arasinakunte village, the core settlement, along with its agricultural lands and community commons, was acquired to make way for the airport.</p>.<p>“Without land to our names, my husband and I are forced to seek out work even at this age. To eat, we have to work,” says Bhagyalakshmi, a 70-year-old daily wage worker and resident of the Balepet colony in Devanahalli, where she was relocated.</p>.<p>The monetary compensation of Rs 5 lakh per acre seemed high when the acquisition was announced in the early 2000s. “However, the three acres that we had were to be split among two brothers, so the compensation amount was only sufficient to build a house,” she says.</p>.Novel protest: Farmers to sell produce in Bengaluru amid price crash.<p>In retrospect, she recognises the significance of the land — the family once relied on it for ragi and vegetables to sustain the household. But the move to the colony, and the resulting disconnection from cultivation for personal use, has stripped away even this source of security and independence, she says.</p>.<p>Many amenities were promised while residents of Arasinakunte were being relocated: A hospital, a temple, a common hall for events, and a cemetery. “None of these promised facilities reached fruition. There is not even a compound wall, even though the road is right next to us. Just this week, my son’s scooter was stolen,” says Hema*, a resident of the relocated colony. The atmosphere of the layout is starkly different from that of the village, with little space for recreation or community, she adds.</p>.<p>Stories of fractured families and lives upended by land acquisition and the lure of sudden wealth echo through the peripheries of the city. </p>.<p>It comes as no surprise that over the last two decades, more than 35% of farmers in North Bengaluru, Doddaballapur and Devanahalli have sold their lands. Further, 50% of urban farmers, 46% of rural farmers, and 38% of peri-urban farmers sold their land, according to a 2024 study conducted by the University of Agricultural Sciences, Bangalore.</p>.<p>Although Bengaluru relies on rural and peri-urban areas to meet its demand for flowers, vegetables, poultry and grain, a growing demand for land appears to have taken precedence over this reliance.</p>.<p>“Though the presence of the city has given us a good market for fruits, vegetables and foodgrains, rising land prices also put us at constant risk of losing our livelihoods,” says Gangappa, a farmer and agricultural labourer from Channarayapatna hobli in Devanahalli.</p>.<p>For over three years now, Gangappa has been an active participant in the protest against land acquisition for the Haralur Industrial Area — a special economic zone being developed by the Karnataka Industrial Area Development Board (KIADB). He faces the prospect of losing three acres of land to the industrial area. </p>.<p>Several ongoing protests against land acquisition in Bengaluru are emblematic of the fraught relationship rural communities have with urbanisation today. “Many who gave up their land tell us not to. Only an assured source of income and capital will sustain us in hard times,” Gangappa says. </p>.<p><strong>The promise of jobs</strong></p>.<p>The Balepet colony is populated mainly by agricultural labourers, explains Muniraju, a daily wage worker and resident. “Most farmers in regions surrounding Bengaluru have small and marginal landholdings. The monetary compensation that one gets from this is not enough to reinvest in land nearby,” he adds.</p>.<p>As a result, many small and marginal landowners with generational agroeconomic knowledge have been unable to continue with agriculture after land acquisition by government and private entities.</p>.<p>Even for those who still own land in peri-urban areas, practicing agriculture has become increasingly difficult in the face of urbanisation. A 2023 study that assessed temporal Landsat data from 1973 to 2022 found that agricultural land within the city dropped from 58.59% of land area to 32.9%. During the same period, built-up area increased from 3.85% to 55.71%.</p>.<p>A clear pattern of urbanisation has emerged over the past decade: As demand for housing grows, agricultural land is sought out by real estate developers. Once large-scale housing is established, change starts to occur in the core village settlements too.</p>.<p>The demand for services may present new prospects for residents in these settlements, explains Raj Bhagat Palanichamy, a GeoAnalytics expert. “The demand for service-oriented jobs from these elite colonies means that the core village settlement will get denser, with migrants seeking these opportunities. Residents without land or with marginal landholdings are most at risk of entering the informal sector,” he says.</p>.<p>The insecurity of income in the informal sector has been presenting several challenges to communities living in rapidly urbanising areas over the years.</p>.<p>The proximity of the Kempegowda International Airport once presented exciting prospects for residents of Balepet.“There are many industrial areas nearby, apart from the airport. But soon, we realised that we just did not have the qualifications that these jobs required. The only jobs available were contract-based, in housekeeping, gardening or security,” says Narasamma, who worked at KIA as a housekeeper for a year, along with her husband Muniraju.</p>.<p>Besides providing little certainty, the jobs offered meagre income that did not keep pace with the inflated cost of living, particularly closer to the city.</p>.Devanahalli land acquisition row: Farmers up the ante, attempt suicide.<p><strong>Models of compensation</strong></p>.<p>The uncertainty of informal employment, coupled with increasing exploitation in urban labour markets — especially with the rise of the gig economy — has become a strong deterrent to selling land in recent years. For many in peri-urban communities, the promise of urban opportunity feels distant. Despite living on the fringes of cities where high-paying jobs are visible, a lack of formal education and vocational skills keeps these opportunities just out of reach.</p>.<p>“Neither of my sons has completed a degree. They will not get permanent jobs. The land has more value for us as that they make their income from the land — they know how to earn from it,” says Gangappa.</p>.<p>A 2016 study that surveyed 160 farmers on the city’s margins found that in about 34% of cases, households did not take up any occupation after parting with their land. Only a small share transitioned to formal employment — just 17.2% found work in the government or private sectors. Others turned to manual labour (8.6%), commercial poultry farming (4.3%), real estate activities (2.2%) and agricultural labour (1.1%). About 16% engaged in informal trades such as mechanics, driving, or electrical work.</p>.<p>With market prices in these rapidly urbanising areas ranging between Rs 3 crore and Rs 8 crore per acre, it is easy to assume that compensation from land acquisition can secure a person’s future. However, widespread corruption and the prevalence of intermediaries — agents who act as middlemen between acquisition authorities and landowners — often result in a significant portion of the compensation being siphoned off.</p>.<p>“Many farmers are missing the necessary documents. If khatha is done, registration is not, and vice versa. Without an agent, getting through the bureaucracy can take many years,” says Prabhakar, an agriculturist who lost 2.5 acres of land in Muddenahalli. To avail of compensation, he was forced to use one such agent during the development of a hi-tech aviation park in 2016. “I was supposed to get Rs 60 lakhs per acre in compensation. The agent demanded Rs 45 lakhs to coordinate with the department and get the money,” he says.</p>.<p>Operating within bureaucratic ecosystems or under the pretense of real estate organisations, “these agents can demand up to 20% to 30% of the compensation amount. Most times, the land also comes under dispute when it is undivided, and personal funds go into paying legal fees,” explains Ramesh Cheemchanahalli, a farmer in Devanahalli.</p>.<p>Government acquisition processes, particularly those that pertain to the development of mobility systems, are soon followed by private real estate purchasing. “Several coercive tactics are used to get farmers to sell land to developers. Recently, for instance, a fake letter — supposedly a notification from the KIADB — was circulated among farmers,” explains Swaroop Reddy, a farmer with four acres of land in Anekal. “The intention was to drive farmers to sell land in panic since the market value is higher than the compensation provided by the government,” he adds.</p>.<p><strong>Post-sale use of money</strong></p>.<p>After selling property, most small landholding farmers use their compensation to build a home or repay existing debts.</p>.<p>Buoyed by the windfall, many farmers in Devanahalli quickly built grand homes and bought cars. “Only a few have prospered. Most regret it today,” says Narayanamma, a 70-year-old farmer in the region.</p>.<p>Those with slightly larger land parcels are more likely to gain sufficient capital to establish self-owned enterprises or reinvest in agricultural land elsewhere, creating a more stable economic foundation.</p>.<p>It is also vital to address the social and economic vulnerabilities of rural landowners. “Communities that have for generations known only agriculture — how do you expect them to take on other livelihoods they are not equipped to pursue? The only way to make it equitable is to start investing in education and awareness,” says Anjali Karol Mohan, urban and regional planner and visiting faculty at National Law School of India University in Bengaluru.</p>.<p><strong>The real estate market</strong></p>.<p>Currently, development is largely driven by the cost-effective availability of land and demand for housing. This has led to the haphazard accretion of land by both private and government bodies. “The ad-hoc planning has meant that while some pockets of land are urbanised, tracts of agricultural land remain. However, cultivating in such areas becomes very difficult due to pressure on water resources, dust, and pollution,” says Vishala Padmanabhan, founder of Buffalo Back, an organic farming collective.</p>.<p>An outdated statutory City Development Plan (CDP), which provides guidelines for future projects, has only complicated urban sprawl — the uncontrolled growth of peripheral urban areas. “This is what causes real estate developments to leapfrog. We cannot prevent urban sprawl — it has already occurred to an extent — but we can plan with it in mind,” explains Smita Singh, an architect and urban planner. An IISc study found that Bengaluru had the worst urban sprawl in the country, with a 632% increase in built-up areas.</p>.<p>Bengaluru still operates under an outdated Master Plan, which was intended to guide development only until 2015. A draft RMP (Revised Master Plan) 2031 was prepared in 2017 but withdrawn in 2020 due to legal challenges and the need to align planning with principles like Transit Oriented Development. </p>.<p>Officials in the BDA explained that a land survey was being carried out towards the latest edition of the RMP (Revised Masterplan) and that work has been on since last year. </p>.<p>Given the city’s enormous developmental pressures, holistic development is difficult to achieve without a regional vision. Infrastructure projects and attempts to conserve resources frequently face setbacks owing to conflicting private and public interests and the jurisdiction of multiple planning authorities.</p>.<p>In this context, there is a pressing need to implement and regulate Change of Land Use (CLU) certificates to check unplanned growth, Smita adds.</p>.<p>A disclosure by Revenue Minister Krishna Byre Gowda in January this year revealed that out of 4.11 crore acres of farmland, conversion was sought for only 4.69 lakh acres. The rest of the conversions happened illegally. </p>.<p><strong>Regional planning and zoning</strong></p>.<p>Though Anekal is a major town, its growth is driven by Bengaluru. “Every town or village has unique characteristics. The people who live here have their own aspirations, but the needs of Bengaluru are so strong that local wants and needs are often sacrificed,” says Ramesh.</p>.<p>Decentralising growth and protecting the interests, livelihoods, and aspirations of people in villages surrounding Bengaluru is paramount. “The regional planning authority must protect rural areas and natural resources. The Nagar planning authorities and gram panchayats that fall within urbanisable limits should develop their own visions and have a say in their future,” says Smita.</p>.<p>To preserve the character and community of villages, residential zones can be reimagined as urban villages — formerly rural settlements, now enveloped by the expanding city, yet retaining their distinct social fabric, cultural identity, and community networks.</p>.<p>A city also needs agricultural produce, dairy and poultry products and continually depends on the hinterlands to meet these demands. As urban sprawl intensifies and agricultural lands risk absorption, “why not envision these within the city through planning and zoning?” asks Anjali.</p>.<p>The lives of many in rural communities are being disrupted, with land emerging as the central point of contention. “At the heart of the issue is land. The government wants it, private companies want it, we want it — but whose needs are prioritised?” asks Gangappa. “There is no doubt that land holds immense value today, but so do people,” he adds.</p>
<p> Bengaluru: On the peripheries of Bengaluru, the tides of urbanisation are relentless. The transformed landscape of Devanahalli stands testament to this. Here, agricultural land is hemmed in by towering hotels, sprawling commercial complexes, a winding network of motorways, and numerous industrial zones.</p>.<p>Two decades after the Kempegowda International Airport project catalysed urban expansion in the region, a lingering insecurity remains among former residents of relocated villages. In Arasinakunte village, the core settlement, along with its agricultural lands and community commons, was acquired to make way for the airport.</p>.<p>“Without land to our names, my husband and I are forced to seek out work even at this age. To eat, we have to work,” says Bhagyalakshmi, a 70-year-old daily wage worker and resident of the Balepet colony in Devanahalli, where she was relocated.</p>.<p>The monetary compensation of Rs 5 lakh per acre seemed high when the acquisition was announced in the early 2000s. “However, the three acres that we had were to be split among two brothers, so the compensation amount was only sufficient to build a house,” she says.</p>.Novel protest: Farmers to sell produce in Bengaluru amid price crash.<p>In retrospect, she recognises the significance of the land — the family once relied on it for ragi and vegetables to sustain the household. But the move to the colony, and the resulting disconnection from cultivation for personal use, has stripped away even this source of security and independence, she says.</p>.<p>Many amenities were promised while residents of Arasinakunte were being relocated: A hospital, a temple, a common hall for events, and a cemetery. “None of these promised facilities reached fruition. There is not even a compound wall, even though the road is right next to us. Just this week, my son’s scooter was stolen,” says Hema*, a resident of the relocated colony. The atmosphere of the layout is starkly different from that of the village, with little space for recreation or community, she adds.</p>.<p>Stories of fractured families and lives upended by land acquisition and the lure of sudden wealth echo through the peripheries of the city. </p>.<p>It comes as no surprise that over the last two decades, more than 35% of farmers in North Bengaluru, Doddaballapur and Devanahalli have sold their lands. Further, 50% of urban farmers, 46% of rural farmers, and 38% of peri-urban farmers sold their land, according to a 2024 study conducted by the University of Agricultural Sciences, Bangalore.</p>.<p>Although Bengaluru relies on rural and peri-urban areas to meet its demand for flowers, vegetables, poultry and grain, a growing demand for land appears to have taken precedence over this reliance.</p>.<p>“Though the presence of the city has given us a good market for fruits, vegetables and foodgrains, rising land prices also put us at constant risk of losing our livelihoods,” says Gangappa, a farmer and agricultural labourer from Channarayapatna hobli in Devanahalli.</p>.<p>For over three years now, Gangappa has been an active participant in the protest against land acquisition for the Haralur Industrial Area — a special economic zone being developed by the Karnataka Industrial Area Development Board (KIADB). He faces the prospect of losing three acres of land to the industrial area. </p>.<p>Several ongoing protests against land acquisition in Bengaluru are emblematic of the fraught relationship rural communities have with urbanisation today. “Many who gave up their land tell us not to. Only an assured source of income and capital will sustain us in hard times,” Gangappa says. </p>.<p><strong>The promise of jobs</strong></p>.<p>The Balepet colony is populated mainly by agricultural labourers, explains Muniraju, a daily wage worker and resident. “Most farmers in regions surrounding Bengaluru have small and marginal landholdings. The monetary compensation that one gets from this is not enough to reinvest in land nearby,” he adds.</p>.<p>As a result, many small and marginal landowners with generational agroeconomic knowledge have been unable to continue with agriculture after land acquisition by government and private entities.</p>.<p>Even for those who still own land in peri-urban areas, practicing agriculture has become increasingly difficult in the face of urbanisation. A 2023 study that assessed temporal Landsat data from 1973 to 2022 found that agricultural land within the city dropped from 58.59% of land area to 32.9%. During the same period, built-up area increased from 3.85% to 55.71%.</p>.<p>A clear pattern of urbanisation has emerged over the past decade: As demand for housing grows, agricultural land is sought out by real estate developers. Once large-scale housing is established, change starts to occur in the core village settlements too.</p>.<p>The demand for services may present new prospects for residents in these settlements, explains Raj Bhagat Palanichamy, a GeoAnalytics expert. “The demand for service-oriented jobs from these elite colonies means that the core village settlement will get denser, with migrants seeking these opportunities. Residents without land or with marginal landholdings are most at risk of entering the informal sector,” he says.</p>.<p>The insecurity of income in the informal sector has been presenting several challenges to communities living in rapidly urbanising areas over the years.</p>.<p>The proximity of the Kempegowda International Airport once presented exciting prospects for residents of Balepet.“There are many industrial areas nearby, apart from the airport. But soon, we realised that we just did not have the qualifications that these jobs required. The only jobs available were contract-based, in housekeeping, gardening or security,” says Narasamma, who worked at KIA as a housekeeper for a year, along with her husband Muniraju.</p>.<p>Besides providing little certainty, the jobs offered meagre income that did not keep pace with the inflated cost of living, particularly closer to the city.</p>.Devanahalli land acquisition row: Farmers up the ante, attempt suicide.<p><strong>Models of compensation</strong></p>.<p>The uncertainty of informal employment, coupled with increasing exploitation in urban labour markets — especially with the rise of the gig economy — has become a strong deterrent to selling land in recent years. For many in peri-urban communities, the promise of urban opportunity feels distant. Despite living on the fringes of cities where high-paying jobs are visible, a lack of formal education and vocational skills keeps these opportunities just out of reach.</p>.<p>“Neither of my sons has completed a degree. They will not get permanent jobs. The land has more value for us as that they make their income from the land — they know how to earn from it,” says Gangappa.</p>.<p>A 2016 study that surveyed 160 farmers on the city’s margins found that in about 34% of cases, households did not take up any occupation after parting with their land. Only a small share transitioned to formal employment — just 17.2% found work in the government or private sectors. Others turned to manual labour (8.6%), commercial poultry farming (4.3%), real estate activities (2.2%) and agricultural labour (1.1%). About 16% engaged in informal trades such as mechanics, driving, or electrical work.</p>.<p>With market prices in these rapidly urbanising areas ranging between Rs 3 crore and Rs 8 crore per acre, it is easy to assume that compensation from land acquisition can secure a person’s future. However, widespread corruption and the prevalence of intermediaries — agents who act as middlemen between acquisition authorities and landowners — often result in a significant portion of the compensation being siphoned off.</p>.<p>“Many farmers are missing the necessary documents. If khatha is done, registration is not, and vice versa. Without an agent, getting through the bureaucracy can take many years,” says Prabhakar, an agriculturist who lost 2.5 acres of land in Muddenahalli. To avail of compensation, he was forced to use one such agent during the development of a hi-tech aviation park in 2016. “I was supposed to get Rs 60 lakhs per acre in compensation. The agent demanded Rs 45 lakhs to coordinate with the department and get the money,” he says.</p>.<p>Operating within bureaucratic ecosystems or under the pretense of real estate organisations, “these agents can demand up to 20% to 30% of the compensation amount. Most times, the land also comes under dispute when it is undivided, and personal funds go into paying legal fees,” explains Ramesh Cheemchanahalli, a farmer in Devanahalli.</p>.<p>Government acquisition processes, particularly those that pertain to the development of mobility systems, are soon followed by private real estate purchasing. “Several coercive tactics are used to get farmers to sell land to developers. Recently, for instance, a fake letter — supposedly a notification from the KIADB — was circulated among farmers,” explains Swaroop Reddy, a farmer with four acres of land in Anekal. “The intention was to drive farmers to sell land in panic since the market value is higher than the compensation provided by the government,” he adds.</p>.<p><strong>Post-sale use of money</strong></p>.<p>After selling property, most small landholding farmers use their compensation to build a home or repay existing debts.</p>.<p>Buoyed by the windfall, many farmers in Devanahalli quickly built grand homes and bought cars. “Only a few have prospered. Most regret it today,” says Narayanamma, a 70-year-old farmer in the region.</p>.<p>Those with slightly larger land parcels are more likely to gain sufficient capital to establish self-owned enterprises or reinvest in agricultural land elsewhere, creating a more stable economic foundation.</p>.<p>It is also vital to address the social and economic vulnerabilities of rural landowners. “Communities that have for generations known only agriculture — how do you expect them to take on other livelihoods they are not equipped to pursue? The only way to make it equitable is to start investing in education and awareness,” says Anjali Karol Mohan, urban and regional planner and visiting faculty at National Law School of India University in Bengaluru.</p>.<p><strong>The real estate market</strong></p>.<p>Currently, development is largely driven by the cost-effective availability of land and demand for housing. This has led to the haphazard accretion of land by both private and government bodies. “The ad-hoc planning has meant that while some pockets of land are urbanised, tracts of agricultural land remain. However, cultivating in such areas becomes very difficult due to pressure on water resources, dust, and pollution,” says Vishala Padmanabhan, founder of Buffalo Back, an organic farming collective.</p>.<p>An outdated statutory City Development Plan (CDP), which provides guidelines for future projects, has only complicated urban sprawl — the uncontrolled growth of peripheral urban areas. “This is what causes real estate developments to leapfrog. We cannot prevent urban sprawl — it has already occurred to an extent — but we can plan with it in mind,” explains Smita Singh, an architect and urban planner. An IISc study found that Bengaluru had the worst urban sprawl in the country, with a 632% increase in built-up areas.</p>.<p>Bengaluru still operates under an outdated Master Plan, which was intended to guide development only until 2015. A draft RMP (Revised Master Plan) 2031 was prepared in 2017 but withdrawn in 2020 due to legal challenges and the need to align planning with principles like Transit Oriented Development. </p>.<p>Officials in the BDA explained that a land survey was being carried out towards the latest edition of the RMP (Revised Masterplan) and that work has been on since last year. </p>.<p>Given the city’s enormous developmental pressures, holistic development is difficult to achieve without a regional vision. Infrastructure projects and attempts to conserve resources frequently face setbacks owing to conflicting private and public interests and the jurisdiction of multiple planning authorities.</p>.<p>In this context, there is a pressing need to implement and regulate Change of Land Use (CLU) certificates to check unplanned growth, Smita adds.</p>.<p>A disclosure by Revenue Minister Krishna Byre Gowda in January this year revealed that out of 4.11 crore acres of farmland, conversion was sought for only 4.69 lakh acres. The rest of the conversions happened illegally. </p>.<p><strong>Regional planning and zoning</strong></p>.<p>Though Anekal is a major town, its growth is driven by Bengaluru. “Every town or village has unique characteristics. The people who live here have their own aspirations, but the needs of Bengaluru are so strong that local wants and needs are often sacrificed,” says Ramesh.</p>.<p>Decentralising growth and protecting the interests, livelihoods, and aspirations of people in villages surrounding Bengaluru is paramount. “The regional planning authority must protect rural areas and natural resources. The Nagar planning authorities and gram panchayats that fall within urbanisable limits should develop their own visions and have a say in their future,” says Smita.</p>.<p>To preserve the character and community of villages, residential zones can be reimagined as urban villages — formerly rural settlements, now enveloped by the expanding city, yet retaining their distinct social fabric, cultural identity, and community networks.</p>.<p>A city also needs agricultural produce, dairy and poultry products and continually depends on the hinterlands to meet these demands. As urban sprawl intensifies and agricultural lands risk absorption, “why not envision these within the city through planning and zoning?” asks Anjali.</p>.<p>The lives of many in rural communities are being disrupted, with land emerging as the central point of contention. “At the heart of the issue is land. The government wants it, private companies want it, we want it — but whose needs are prioritised?” asks Gangappa. “There is no doubt that land holds immense value today, but so do people,” he adds.</p>