Kannur's 'best farmer' who brought fallow land back to life for three decades dies by suicide
Alias Ambat, a recipient of the State award for best vegetable farmer in Kannur district, died by suicide.
Alias Ambat, a recipient of the State award for best vegetable farmer in Kannur district, died by suicide.
Alias Ambat, a recipient of the State award for best vegetable farmer in Kannur district, died by suicide.
Kannur: In November last year, when the first season's harvest came in, Alias Ambat (59) hosted a small festival on his farm. Nearly a hundred people- mostly his neighbours and fellow farmers- turned up at his field in Kannur's Cherupuzha panchayat.
Amid the bitter gourds hanging thick from trellises and long beans trailing in careful rows, Alias served them biryani. To anyone who walked through the farm that day, Alias seemed every bit the model farmer he was widely regarded as. A few years ago, he had received the State award for best vegetable farmer in Kannur district from Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan.
On Wednesday, February 11, Alias consumed a combination of insecticide and pesticide at the edge of the same farm. Four days later, on Sunday, he died at a private hospital in Kannur following multiple organ failure. He was a native of Kariyakara in Cherupuzha's Edavaramba.
His death has cast a pall over the farming community, particularly in the hill panchayats of Kannur and Kasaragod, where he was known for his scale of cultivation and relentless work ethic.
Those who knew only his fields and harvests were stunned. Those who worked with him were shattered but not entirely taken aback. In quiet conversations, he had spoken of his financial distress and hinted at an end like this.
Alias had been farming for 35 years. "He would be in the field day and night. He practised scientific farming," said Suresh Kuttur, Agriculture Assistant at the Cherupuzha Krishi Bhavan, who worked closely with him.
Though he owned only 75 cents of land, Alias typically cultivated between six and 10 acres every year by leasing fallow land in Cherupuzha and across the river in East Eleri panchayat of Kasaragod district. This year, he had taken seven acres in Cherupuzha for vegetables and about three acres in East Eleri for plantain.
"He was one of our best farmers," said Rajitha Saji, former Cherupuzha panchayat member from Kariyakara ward. On October 18 last year, the panchayat and the Krishi Bhavan launched their fallow land cultivation programme from his farm, she said.
Alias grew nearly 16 varieties of vegetables- including bitter gourd, snake gourd, long beans, okra, cucumber, yellow cucumber, ash gourd and pumpkin- besides plantain. During peak season, he employed up to 15 workers. By 6 am each day, the harvest would be sorted and loaded for transport to markets in Cherupuzha, Payyannur and Madhamangalam.
"There were shops that regularly sourced vegetables from him. He sold in tonnes, and often at a premium," said Suresh, who was awarded Best Agriculture Assistant by the State government in 2021 and 2025.
Yet, a good harvest did not always ensure a good margin.
Venugopal (63), his neighbour and former farming partner, had jointly cultivated leased fallow land with Alias and his brother Varkey Ambat for 15 years before they parted ways. "For him, farming was a passion, an 'avesham' when he saw the produce hanging thick on the trellises," Venugopal said. "He was not very concerned about calculating profit and loss." That difference in approach, he added, was one reason they decided to farm separately.
This season, Alias had planted around 2,500 plantains in Munayamkunnu in East Eleri, according to Suresh. About 850 bunches were harvested in the first round in February, each weighing roughly 35 kg. But market prices had dropped sharply. "When he planted, plantain was selling for around ₹60 per kg. By the time he harvested, he got only ₹27 per kg," Suresh said.
The wage bill itself was substantial. With 10 workers employed daily, labour costs alone came to around ₹8,000 a day.
Venugopal said the economics of farming did not affect him. "If one crop failed, he would invest in another," he said.
The Department of Agriculture gives a subsidy of ₹40,000 for one hectare of fallow land. Alias usually cultivated on fallow land for two years and moved to a new fallow land.
For the seven acres (2.8 ha) of fallow land he took on lease in Cherupuzha panchayat this season, the government gave a subsidy of ₹1.12 lakh, of which ₹9,000 is for the land owner, and the remaining ₹1.03 lakh was for Alias. "There was a delay in releasing the subsidy because of paperwork," Suresh admitted. But Venugopal said the subsidy was just a fraction of the cost of farming.
After parting ways, they expanded farming separately, taking fallow land on lease. "I soon realised that there was no profit in vegetable farming, just a rush in seeing the produce," he said. In that sense, the agriculture department's subsidy was a bait. To be sure, the government promoted farming on fallow land on a large scale during the Covid pandemic. "I was getting trapped in debt. Somehow I managed to wriggle out and stopped farming altogether during the Covid pandemic," he said. "Now, I restrict my farming to my backyard," he said.
Venugopal said he advised Alias to get out, too, but he was too invested in farming. He would borrow from friends and relatives for one month, and borrow again from another set to roll his debt, he said.
According to those close to him, his liabilities rose to between ₹35 lakh and ₹50 lakh, of which only ₹10 lakh was bank debt. "People lent him money because he was a good farmer and he always had a good harvest," Venugopal said.
Around four years ago, Alias briefly ventured into leasing over-aged rubber plantations for terminal tapping before the trees were felled for timber. But he burnt his finger and doubled down on vegetables, said Suresh Kuttur.
He could not scale down because that would have meant confronting accumulated debt without the cushion of a fresh crop cycle. "Five years ago, he had hinted to me about what he was contemplating," said Venugopal, speaking over the phone while on his way to the hospital to receive the body
On the day he consumed poison, around 1,650 plantain bunches were nearing harvest. The trellises still heavy with the second season’s produce. But the farmer, who brought fallow lands back to life for three decades, is gone. He is survived by his wife Laisamma, son Robin (30) and daughter Roshini (29).