Suraj Nandrekar
The monsoon has not yet arrived, but in Odxel and Taleigao, it has already laid bare the cost of unregulated development, political impunity, and systematic environmental abuse.
Shocking videos of flooding and mud sliding into homes from freshly-cut hills tell the story more vividly than any report ever could.
Residents, instead of welcoming the first rains, are watching their homes turn into disaster zones. And yet, those responsible walk free—protected by power, shielded by silence.
At the heart of this environmental catastrophe lies rampant hill cutting—a destructive practice that has been normalized in Taleigao. Every monsoon, the consequences grow more dangerous. The soil, once held by forests and natural slopes, now gives way to gushing water and loose mud, threatening lives, homes, and public infrastructure.
Despite this, no accountability follows. No arrests, no probes, just the same perfunctory statements and “file inquiries” that conveniently burn before reaching any conclusion.
Why are the Monserattes—MLA Jennifer Monseratte and her husband, Revenue Minister Babush Monseratte—not held accountable?
This is not a vague allegation; it is a pointed question rooted in a growing body of evidence and public anger. Jennifer Monseratte has even been accused of physically threatening social activist Cecille Rodrigues—an allegation so serious that, in any functioning democracy, would have prompted police action. Yet, here in Goa, it barely makes a ripple.
The Monserattes have presided over Taleigao’s transformation from a peaceful locality to a congested construction site.
Babush Monseratte, as the Revenue Minister, is directly responsible for safeguarding land and enforcing land-use laws. Instead, we are witnessing a blatant manipulation of land records, hill-cutting permissions, and zoning plans to favour private builders and cronies. Files vanish in fires, permissions appear overnight, and hills disappear by morning.
This is not just negligence. This is a well-oiled operation—systematic, deliberate, and politically protected.
Goans must ask: How many homes must flood? How many hills must be razed? How many activists must be threatened before the government acts?
The people of Taleigao deserve better. They deserve transparency, justice, and leaders who protect, not destroy. Until we stop treating political leaders as untouchable and start holding them legally and morally accountable, this cycle of destruction will continue.
It is time for the courts, the Goa Lokayukta, the Union Environment Ministry, and the people of Goa to act. Taleigao cannot afford another rainy season of silence.
