Date: 24th October, 2024.
In the beautiful heart of Goa, where green landscapes and sunny beaches seem peaceful, a hidden truth exists. Quiet talks of illegal construction spread, showing a world of political favours and greed behind the scenes. Wealthy families, cloaked in the guise of legitimacy, have turned communal lands—historically managed for the greater good—into their personal playgrounds. With intricate legal manoeuvre they claimed their status as Class I occupants, relegating the true custodians of the land, the farmers, to the shadows as Class III occupants. This manipulation of the land classification system was not merely a legal oversight but a calculated strategy to monopolize resources that rightfully belonged to the community. Each new construction project rose like a mirage, promising prosperity but masking the erosion of communal heritage that was deeply embedded in the very soil of Go
Meanwhile, local politicians danced to the tune of electoral gains, offering NOCs to these unauthorized projects in exchange for votes. The construction sites flourished amid the whispers of discontent from the community, with every brick laid echoing a betrayal of trust. As environmental regulations crumbled under the weight of corruption, the very essence of Goa’s communal land system—embodied by the Communidade, Patto, Alvara, and Macaso—teetered on the brink of extinction. The invisible chains of manipulation tightened around the land, leaving the vulnerable sections of society to fend for themselves, often needing permissions for basic utilities from the very elites who had stripped them of their rightful heritage. In this evolving drama, the stakes grew higher as the sun set over a land caught in a battle between tradition and avarice (greed).
Communidade and the Panchayat play critical roles in the issuance of No Objection Certificates (NOCs) for structures on Communidade land, but their authority derives from different legal frameworks. The Communidade, as the traditional landowner, possesses primary authority over such lands. Any construction or development on this land requires their explicit approval, as they are custodians of these lands intended for the collective benefit of the community. This consent is essential to preserve the land’s historical, cultural, and communal significance, particularly since Communidade lands are often designated for community use or agriculture. Consequently, any construction without the Communidade’s consent is deemed illegal, irrespective of other approvals.
Conversely, the Panchayat acts as a regulatory body, ensuring compliance with local zoning laws, building codes, and environmental regulations. While it can issue NOCs, these permissions do not supersede the ownership rights of the Communidade. The necessity of obtaining approvals from both entities is important for a project to be considered legally valid. However, the Communidade’s role as the traditional landowner carries more weight in the approval process, making their consent indispensable. This dynamic highlights the tension between communal rights and regulatory frameworks in Goa’s evolving landscape of land use and governance.
Moreover, the proliferation of illegal structures in Goa has been closely linked to vote bank politics, where local authorities permit unauthorized constructions in exchange for electoral support. These developments frequently arise in sensitive zones, such as the Coastal Regulation Zone (CRZ) or on Communidade lands, often bypassing requisite legal and environmental clearances. Such political manoeuvres result in compromised urban planning, overburdened infrastructure, and heightened environmental risks. The introduction of regularization schemes further complicates the issue, retroactively legalizing illegal constructions, thereby entrenching a culture of impunity regarding land use violations.
The traditional system of communal land in Goa is facing serious challenges, especially from wealthy families who are finding ways to gain control over these lands. By using complicated legal tools, these families are labelling themselves as Class I occupants, which gives them more rights than the original farmers, who are pushed down to Class III occupancy. This situation not only harms the rights of real farmers but also threatens the communal land system represented by the Communidade, Alvara, Patto, and Macaso. It creates confusion between personal interests and communal ownership, raising concerns about how communal governance will function in the future of Goa.
The grandmasters of Goa’s real estate chessboard! They started off so humbly, dishing out sarees and bicycles like it was a seasonal clearance sale—earning votes and hearts along the way. But here’s the kicker: while the poor were busy enjoying their new wheels, these political real estate moguls were playing Monopoly with communal land, except this time, there was no “Go to Jail” card for them. Slowly but surely, they turned what was once the community’s heritage into their own private playgrounds.
And now? Their descendants, all decked out in designer suits, are continuing the noble family tradition of alienating the very people who rely on communal resources for their daily bread. Bravo, really! These elites have mastered the fine art of making sure the rich stay richer, while the poor stay… well, on bicycles. KALIYUG!!! They’re not just exemplifying it—they’re giving it a VIP upgrade!
The Class III occupants trying to build a house on their own ancestral land? It’s like asking permission to breathe! First, they’re fighting for a roof over their heads, but wait—want water and electricity too? Better get in line for an NOC, not from the Communidade (which, by the way, was theirs), but from these new private overlords who’ve hijacked the whole system as Class I owners. It’s insulting—farmers who’ve toiled for generations are now reduced to begging for basic utilities from the same people who swooped in and grabbed their land, legally or not. And somehow, we’re all supposed to pretend this isn’t a massive scam?
The saying “Chath Chin Kar Kambhal Daan Karne Ki Kala Ko Hi Rajniiti Kehte Hai” highlights how politics often involves taking away something vital, like a roof, and then offering a meaningless solution, such as a blanket (kambhal), to disguise the act. This illustrates the manipulation often seen in political practices, where leaders prioritize their interests over the people’s needs.
Despite government schemes like Atmanirbhar Bharat and Swayampurna Goa aimed at helping local entrepreneurs, starting a business in Goa can be incredibly challenging. What was meant to simplify the process has turned into a complicated mess of permissions. For instance, a small restaurant owner needs not just an NOC from the property owner and the Panchayat but also a long list of other approvals. This bureaucratic hassle makes it feel impossible to get things moving.
This situation is worsened by the influence of powerful politicians who often take advantage of communal land. Entrepreneurs—especially Gaunkars—are left confused about whom to approach for help. Should they go to the Communidade, the Panchayat, or local politicians? Starting a business feels like preparing for a fight, where every obstacle leads to losses. While Gaunkars struggle with endless paperwork just to build on their land, these powerful elites benefit from bending the rules. The dream of small business usufruct is being crushed under the greed of politicians and fake landowners, leaving Gaunkar entrepreneurs feeling trapped and helpless.
In February, 2024 The Government had decided to stop the practice of issuing temporary Enable House Numbers (EHN) to illegal houses, as announced by Panchayat Minister Mauvin Godinho. The move follows concerns that Panchayats were misusing the provision to legitimize illegal constructions. Initially introduced for tax collection, the system was recently misapplied, with over 50 illegal houses in Khorlim, Old Goa, receiving temporary numbers. This decision aimed to curb such exploitation and address the growing issue of unauthorized housing in the state.
The Hon’ble High Court of Bombay at Goa has initiated suo moto action concerning the escalating issue of illegal constructions across the state. These unlawful developments, particularly in sensitive zones like roadsides, Coastal Regulation Zone (CRZ) areas, and village panchayat limits, have caught the Court’s attention due to years of inaction by local authorities. In one triggering case, a Panchayat failed to enforce demolition orders for 4-5 years, pushing the Court to intervene.
Advocate General Devidas Pangam Sir reported that the Court’s focus is on both temporary and permanent constructions, many of which seem to appear overnight. The Hon’ble High Court expressed concern about Goa’s future, warning that if these practices continue, half the constructions in the state may end up being illegal. Hon’ble Court has urged the government to find solutions, while monitoring whether Panchayats and the Directorate of Panchayats are effectively curbing illegal constructions.
In beginning of October 2024, around 140 individuals who built allegedly illegal houses on Comunidade land in Cunchelim, Mapusa, gathered at the Mapusa Police Station demanding action against agents who defrauded them. These residents claimed that agents charged them between Rs 4,500 and Rs 10,000 per square meter, falsely promising they wouldn’t face eviction. The land in question, intended by the government for a communal burial ground, had been partly leased from the Comunidade and partially bought from a private party. Despite the illegal status of the houses, water and electricity connections were reportedly provided. The issue surfaced when the Land Survey Department visited for an official survey, exposing the deceit. The complexity deepens as it is unclear whether some houses belong to Goans or migrants, with some migrants allegedly changing their names to resemble local Goan identities, making it hard to determine “Who’s Building? What?”
The legality of a structure and the rightful ownership of strucure—whether it belongs to a true Gaunkar or a migrant—can only be determined through a court trial. Legal proceedings are essential for assessing the relevant facts, documentation, and rights concerning land ownership and construction. Until a final verdict is delivered, all claims and aspirations about ownership remain speculative. The resolution of these matters rests on the judicial process, emphasizing the importance of following legal protocols to clarify property rights and legality.
As the day comes to an end in Gomantak, many people’s dreams of building homes are clouded by uncertainty about the legality of their structures. Gaunkar Families look at their incomplete houses and feel the weight of confusion and despair, knowing that without clear legal support, their dreams could easily vanish.
Until there is a solid legal framework that protects the rights of true Gaunkars, the idea of homeownership will remain out of reach for many. Simple needs like water and electricity become a struggle against those who prioritize profit over people. Everyone deserves a fair chance to build a home recognized by the law, so Goa’s rich communal heritage can thrive again. One generation has already spent years in incomplete houses. Do the wealthy families and their political allies want another generation to suffer the same fate? If they do, we, the Gaunkars, must wake up and see how they treat us. Ignoring these injustices will only hurt our future. We’re stuck in a loop where migrants seek small shelters, while Gaunkars can’t repair their homes and businesses due to Class I occupancy controlled by land grabbers who have side-lined communal rights. Meanwhile, politicians bend the rules before elections to secure their vote bank.