For Jharkhand's Adivasi youth, government jobs are about finding a voice

For 26-year-old Sarita Munda, the journey to a government job has been marked by years of preparation and repeated setbacks. She left her village near Latehar for Ranchi with a plan familiar to many young Adivasis in Jharkhand: study for state recruitment examinations, secure a government position, and gain a foothold in the official system that governs their lives. Unlike agricultural work or daily wage labour, a government job promises stability and a voice.

To support herself, Ms. Munda has taken up domestic work in Ranchi while preparing for the exams. Her brother and sister have also spent years studying for the Jharkhand Public Service Commission (JPSC) and the Jharkhand Staff Selection Commission (JSSC) examinations. Their experience is not unusual.

In 2024, Ms. Munda appeared for an examination that was later cancelled. The following year brought further uncertainty amid allegations of irregularities. In 2026, she finds herself again at the centre of a student movement in Ranchi, where protests over recruitment examinations have entered their 16th day. For her, the issue is not merely about an exam. It is about whether the years spent studying will lead to anything.

For many aspirants, the JPSC and JSSC are seen as the clearest route to secure employment in a state where the private sector offers limited opportunities, especially for young people from rural and Adivasi communities. The choice, as one aspirant described, is stark: continue working on land that sustains a family but yields little surplus, or spend years preparing for a competitive exam that could change the family's economic circumstances.

Jharkhand was created out of Bihar in 2000 following a long political movement centred on questions of identity, land, resources and self-determination. More than two decades later, many young Adivasis say the promise of social and economic inclusion remains unfulfilled. According to the 2011 Census, Scheduled Tribes account for roughly 26% of the state's population. The Census also tracks educational levels of Scheduled Tribe communities, reflecting the importance of education in understanding the state's inequalities.

For Adivasi youth, a government job often means being the first person in their family to enter the formal system that makes decisions about communities on the margins. This is why Akriti Lakra, from a village near Namkum, believes the current agitation cannot be separated from the Adivasi question. Speaking at a programme organised by the Adivasi Bachao Yuva Manch around the International Day of the World's Indigenous Peoples on Sunday, she questioned the absence of Adivasi voices in much of the agitation's visible leadership.

"How can we just celebrate when the youth of this state has been protesting?" she asked, noting that education has always been at the heart of the Adivasi struggle, after jal, jungle, zameen (water, forests, land). In response, another protester told her, "This is not a platform for Adivasi issues, it won't work here."

But Ms. Lakra pointed out that Adivasi students have been part of the protest from the beginning, even while leaving behind agricultural work during the monsoon. "This is the season of field work," she said, explaining that many students in Ranchi have had to choose between participating in the agitation and helping at home.

The protests reflect a deeper concern among Adivasi youth that their aspirations are being ignored. The demand for a credible recruitment process is, at its core, a demand for inclusion in a system that has historically excluded them. As Ms. Munda's story shows, the fight is not just for a job, but for a place in the system that governs them.