When the cuckoo begins to call from the distant peaks of the hills, and the southern breeze carries the gentle fragrance of newly blossomed wildflowers in vibrant hues, the hills awaken in their own colors—ushering in the celebration of the eternal tradition of welcoming a new year and bidding farewell to the previous year.

It is primarily towards the end of the Bengali year that the indigenous peoples of the hills immerse themselves in this festival. Though the names vary across different ethnicities and languages, the essence remains shared. Among the Chakmas, it is known as Biju; for the Marmas, it's Sangrai; for the Mros, Changkran; the Tripuras celebrate Boisu; the Tanchangyas call it Bishu; the Ahom people observe Bihu; the Khumis, Sangraing; and the Khyangs, Sangran. Despite the variety in names, the people of the hills come together in a rich cultural fusion—marked by both diversity and a shared spirit—during the final days of Chaitra and the beginning of Baisakh.

When this festival arrives in the hills, it is the final stretch of the month of Chaitra. Among the Chakma indigenous people, there is a saying: "Chait mase rait"—which, in Bengali, means "The month of Chaitra brings scarcity." This proverb serves as a reminder that this time of year brings hardship to many indigenous households in the hills.

As most indigenous people are traditionally engaged in jhum or plough-based agriculture, by this point in the cultivation cycle, their granaries are nearly empty. They stand at the threshold of a new harvest, waiting for it to come in. It is during this lean season that the cries of scarcity become visible and deeply felt in their daily lives.

Yet, the underlying spirit of this festival transcends economic, social, political, and ethnic divisions, inspiring everyone to immerse themselves equally in its celebration. As a result, it touches all segments of the indigenous population—men and women, the affluent, the middle class, and the underprivileged alike.

To celebrate the festival, traditional games and sports are organized across villages in the hills. Songs in various indigenous languages fill the air. The Tripura people enjoy their collective Garaiya dance, moving in unison to its traditional rhythm. On the day of Phul Biju, the Chakma people offer flowers of various colors to Mother Ganga, the river goddess, as a gesture of gratitude—placing them in the waters of rivers and streams.

By evening, lamps are lit by the river or stream, at doorsteps, at the base of fruit-bearing trees around the household, or near the cowsheds and chicken coops. People pray for a beautiful and prosperous future. Perhaps this practice stems from a sense of gratitude toward those—human or otherwise—on whom their everyday lives depend, and from a desire to build a more abundant tomorrow.

During this time, homes across the hills buzz with activity: every corner is cleaned, clothes and furniture are washed and dusted. Younger members of the household help elders bathe with care and reverence. Meanwhile, toward the end of the Mog calendar, the Marma people purify themselves with the sacred water of Sangraing.

At its heart, the festival carries a deep symbolic meaning—of washing away the old and the worn, and welcoming the new with hope and renewal.

However, the question remains—have the indigenous peoples of the hills truly been able to celebrate this festival freely and spontaneously over time? Since festivals are reflections of lived experiences, it is essential to observe this one through the broader lens of the hill people's collective consciousness and their contemporary socio-political realities.

It is important to note that every festival rests upon a political and cultural foundation—a framework that supports and shapes the celebration for a specific community. The same holds true for the Chittagong Hill Tracts. This region has always played a crucial and central role in Bangladesh's political and cultural landscape. Due to its geostrategic location and the unique cultural, political, economic, and social structures of its diverse indigenous communities, the Hill Tracts remain a region of significant importance—yet also one fraught with conflict.

The visible and long-standing conflict between the indigenous peoples of this region and the dominant population is not only rooted in political history but also in differences in cultural practices and beliefs. As a result, the indigenous communities in this region have consistently faced oppression within the state structures created and managed by the dominant population. This conflict has also left its mark on their festivals and other cultural identities in various ways.

Nonetheless, the cultural strength that the indigenous people of the hills have built through centuries of practicing their traditional heritage allows them to partake in the festival, forgetting the oppression and wounds of the entire year. However, the unfortunate reality is that every year, indigenous students, and those working in various government and private sectors, have to present themselves to their respective authorities with a request for leave during the pre-festival period. This has almost become a routine task for them. As a result, each year serves as a reminder that indigenous communities are yet to be fully embraced as an integral part of the nation.

On the other hand, in what seems to be a repentance for the historical injustices done to the indigenous people, the government, in recent times, has presented these festivals in various "inclusive" celebrations organized by the majoritarian people. This flashy propaganda seems to divert attention from the real issues. Various government persons are suggesting that Indigenous people must be included in the Pahela Boishakh "Mangal Shobhajatra," which is UNESCO-recognized and now is renamed as 'Ananda Shobhajatra.' Indigenous people, adorned in their traditional attire, will be placed in the front row of banners. The initiative may seem positive, but past experiences suggest that the state has been more adept at performing superficial actions, sidelining the fundamental demands of indigenous people. It seems that this time too, the situation is the same.

Unless the state takes concrete steps for qualitative changes in certain areas as part of its basic responsibilities, these so-called inclusion efforts will not make the lives of indigenous people safer, nor will the celebration of the new year and farewell be spontaneous and without fear. In this regard, there are some fundamental responsibilities of the state that the policymakers need to understand.

To truly make the indigenous people's festivals safe and free from anxiety, the first step is the recognition of these differences. It is this dignified recognition that indigenous people have been fighting for all this time. After that, there is a need to take urgent steps to improve the human rights situation of indigenous people, so that they can focus on preserving, promoting, and spreading their unique cultural practices while recovering from the wounds of historical oppression.

For that, the state needs to create an open opportunity for citizens to exercise their rights, providing necessary security for the indigenous citizens of the hill areas and ensuring they have the freedom to celebrate their festivals. This year, several universities have shown some goodwill in response to the demands of their indigenous students. A positive development is that leading universities like the University of Dhaka and Jahangirnagar University have decided not to schedule exams during the time of the indigenous students' Chaitra Sankranti festival.

Additionally, the government has declared April 13 as an optional holiday in the three hill districts to facilitate the celebration of the festival. On the other hand, various government officials are showing solidarity with the indigenous communities by offering support and providing instructions to law enforcement agencies to ensure the safety and smooth conduct of the festival. This way, a connection can be built between the state and the indigenous people.

Through positive action and dialogue—guided by the spirit of the New Year celebrations and the farewell to the old—we can move towards building a truly pluralistic and inclusive state, where indigenous peoples can thrive with their unique cultural identities and become an inseparable part of a secular national structure. To achieve this, we need renewed solidarity and a shared commitment to creating a more hopeful and harmonious future.

Satej Chakma is a writer and indigenous rights activist.