81 cases in 5 years, Murum mafia tightens grip on Solapur’s Kurdu village, locals allege political backing

The scale of excavation is staggering. Locals allege that every night, dozens of trucks ferry murum worth lakhs of rupees out of the area, bypassing official royalty payments and government oversight

On the dry, cracked fields of Kurdu village in Solapur district, heavy trucks loaded with red soil rumble past almost every night. Residents know exactly what is happening — murum, a prized soil used for road construction and other building works, is being dug out illegally in large quantities. For years, villagers have been raising their voices against this trade. Yet, they say, the murum mafia continues to flourish, allegedly under the patronage of powerful political networks.

Recently, a police team led by DySP Anjali Krushna raided one such site. (HT)

The scale of excavation is staggering. Locals allege that every night, dozens of trucks ferry murum worth lakhs of rupees out of the area, bypassing official royalty payments and government oversight. “Very few contractors go by the legal way. Murum is a gold mine for them,” said Mahadev Thorat, a farmer from Madha. “The demand from Tembhurni and Barshi industrial areas is so high that suppliers sell it for ₹1,500 per tonne. One brass is over 4,000 kg, which means they are making more than ₹6,000 per brass. And this goes on every day.”

Recently, a police team led by DySP Anjali Krushna raided one such site. The digging halted temporarily, but almost immediately, pressure began to mount on the police to back off. For villagers, this was no surprise. “Whenever officials act, there is political interference. That’s why nothing changes,” said a resident, requesting anonymity.

For farmers in Kurdu, the excavation comes at a heavy cost. Open pits left behind by illegal digging have damaged agricultural fields, blocked natural water channels, and increased soil erosion. “Our wells are drying faster. Once cultivable land turns barren,” said a local farmer. “But no one listens because too much money is involved.”

According to government regulations, contractors need prior permission from the tehsildar to excavate murum. Permissions are granted for a fixed period, a defined area, and a limited quantity, at a royalty of ₹600 per brass. But villagers allege contractors either skip permissions altogether or far exceed the limits set by authorities.

Madha tehsildar Sanjay Bhosale insisted that the rules are clear: “Permission is required for murum excavation for any purpose, even for gram panchayat roads. If anyone bypasses the law, strict action will be taken.” Yet, on the ground, locals claim enforcement is patchy and short-lived. After raids, activity stops briefly, only to resume with renewed intensity.

At the heart of the issue lies the question of protection. The murum mafia could not operate on such a scale without tacit political support, villagers say. The open challenge to the police raid only underlines this. In an area where upcoming local body elections are set to be fiercely contested, the nexus between contractors and political networks has become a talking point.

For now, Kurdu continues to watch its soil being carted away under the cover of darkness. The red earth, formed over millions of years, is vanishing truck by truck, while those who live on it wonder how long they can sustain the fight against a mafia that seems immune to rules, raids, and regulations.