Kerala’s poverty test: Absent or silent?

Milestones matter, but a mere statistical elimination of extreme poverty cannot address hidden vulnerabilities

On November 1, Kerala will step onto a stage of its own making, one that proclaims a moral victory few societies have ever attempted. The state will declare itself free of extreme poverty, the first in India to do so. A declaration described as historic will be read out with pride and political flourish, marking the culmination of decades of social reform, public investment, and a deep-rooted commitment to equality and dignity.

It is a moment Kerala has earned. Yet it is also a moment that demands pause. While extreme poverty may be statistically eliminated, vulnerability persists. It lives in the narrow alleys of coastal villages where the sea swallows homes each year, in the hills of Wayanad where landslides uproot families during every monsoon, and in the minds of jobless youth who see no future in their own land.

The claim rests on the Extreme Poverty Eradication Programme (EPEP) launched in 2021. Through this initiative, officials identified over 64,000 families living without food security, safe shelter, or basic healthcare. Three years later, the government says that more than 93% have been rehabilitated and that some districts have achieved zero extreme poverty. The data suggests a success story built on years of planning and strong public participation.

This progress is possible because Kerala began from a different foundation. Universal literacy, free healthcare, women’s cooperatives, and local self-governance have created a system of care unique in India. Poverty here is no longer chronic hunger or lack of education but the lingering exclusion of those left behind. The poor in Kerala today are the elderly living alone, landless tribal families in remote settlements and coastal households, displaced again and again by erosion.

Kerala has shown that governance, when local and empathetic, can transform lives. Each panchayat and ward committee has worked to identify and rehabilitate those in need. It reveals how collective responsibility can still change social reality. But poverty does not vanish when a survey is completed. It shifts shape with every new challenge. It is no longer a fixed condition but a recurring threat shaped by the economy, ecology, and the marketplace. A single medical emergency, a job loss, or a natural disaster can destroy years of stability.

Kerala’s proudest achievements, its health and education systems, are now under pressure. Medical expenses and private schooling costs have become unbearable for many. What was once public wealth has turned into a private burden. Poverty in Kerala has not disappeared; it has become more silent, hidden beneath the respectability of survival.

The new vulnerabilities

Unemployment deepens this fragility. The state’s educated youth, once its greatest asset, now find themselves excluded from both agriculture and industry. Many depend on migration to the Gulf or other states. Remittances sustain villages and families, but they also hide a truth: that Kerala’s economy offers limited opportunities for its own people.

Climate change is adding a layer of risk. Across Kerala’s coast, the sea continues to eat into homes and livelihoods. In the high ranges, repeated landslides have made thousands of people climate refugees, resettled far from their original communities. They may not fit the definition of extreme poverty, yet they live in constant dependence and anxiety. To declare victory over poverty without acknowledging the new vulnerabilities would weaken the very spirit that made Kerala different.

Kerala’s greatest strength has been its ability to recognise its failures, to debate, to correct, and to rebuild. The state has always renewed itself through public argument, from the land reforms of the 1960s to the People’s Plan of the 1990s to the recovery after the floods. That willingness to self-examine and self-correct is what gives its human development story credibility. It must not be lost now in the noise of celebration.

The November 1 declaration should be viewed not as the end of poverty but as a renewal of Kerala’s social covenant. The next challenge is to prevent people from sliding back, to protect those whose lives are made uncertain by health costs, unemployment, and climate shocks.

Kerala has earned the right to celebrate. But even as it claims to have said no to extreme poverty, it must keep listening to those still living at the edges of survival: the migrant family on the eroding shore, the tribal mother in Attappady, the cancer survivor in Kochi’s slums, the unemployed graduate waiting for a call letter. Their stories remind us that the battle is not over. The true triumph will come not when the state declares it, but when no one in Kerala has to fear falling back again.

(The writer is a South India- based journalist who has chronicled rural distress and environmental struggles)

(Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.)