‘Pasiththavanuku meen pudika kaththukodu’ (Teach a hungry person how to fish). For years, Sakthivel A would read the proverb painted on a wall in his boarding school but never understood what it meant. Years later, after getting a college degree and landing a job at an MNC, the words began to make sense to him. “I had a job and financial security but what about the rest of my community? I wanted to do more for them,” says Sakthivel, who belongs to the narikuravar community in Uthiramerur, Kancheepuram. He wrote the civil services examination, became a forester and has helped more than 250 people from his community get housing and access to education. He also gives TNPSC guidance to civil service aspirants from the community.Like Sakthivel, several members of the narikuravar community are breaking free from generations of marginalisation and stigma attached to their traditional hunting-based livelihoods. Today, people from the community are working as doctors, engineers, IT professionals, social activists and teachers. Education, greater awareness of their rights and recognition as a Scheduled Tribe (ST) in 2023 have opened up new opportunities. But even as a new generation seeks to redefine the community’s identity, old prejudices remain.For decades, the community fought for ST status. In 1965, the Lokur committee, chaired by B N Lokur to review criteria for identifying scheduled castes (SCs) and STs, had recommended that narikuravars be identified as STs. Until then, they were classified as denotified tribes (communities in India that the British govt labelled as ‘born criminals’ under the Criminal Tribes Act of 1871). After protests by community leaders and tribal rights activists, they finally got their due recognition 58 years later in 2023.Among those at the forefront of the struggle was Karai R Subramanian, president of Tamil Nadu Narikuravar Federation, who has fought for the community’s rights for more than 35 years. “I used to travel across districts selling hair clips and mirrors,” says Subramanian. “In 1992, I learned that tribal leaders were organising a demonstration for ST status. I joined them,” he says. Subramanian joined protesters who walked 900km from Kanyakumari to Chennai demanding ST status for narikuravars. He was arrested and detained for five days, and again for 25 days during another protest at the Secretariat. “After we were arrested, we found it difficult to mobilise people,” says Subramanian. “I realised that protests alone would not bring change. The community needed educated people who can speak up and fight for our rights.” In 1996, Subramanian set up a residential school for narikuruvar children and has since helped educate more than 1,000 students.For S Kokila, a third-year MBBS student from Perambalur, the community’s ST recognition made the difference between giving up her dream of becoming a doctor and pursuing it.“I never imagined I would ever be able to do medicine. My father did everything he could to send me for NEET coaching in 2023. But at the time, we were in the most backward classes (MBC) category, and I couldn’t meet the cut-off,” she says.She and her father had lost all hope in the system, but, around the time of the second round of seat allotment, the ST community certificate came through. “That announcement came like a blessing. I became eligible for the ST cut-off,” says Kokila, who has inspired others in her village to take up medicine.But while narikuravars are breaking barriers, stereotypes continue to follow them. Suvetha Mahendran, Tamil Nadu’s first engineering graduate from the community, is working to expand educational and livelihood opportunities through the Narikuravar Education and Welfare Society (NEWS). Through the organisation, she helps students access financial assistance for education and supports livelihood initiatives for community members across villages since 2016.Along with setting up tuck shops for community members, in 2022, the organisation launched ‘Ladi’, an online jewellery brand that features works completely made by narikurvar women. “Handmade jewellery is our speciality, and so I decided to build a brand around it. So far, we have 33 women working and even generated a turnover of `1.3 crore last year,” she says.Yet, despite her work to expand opportunities for the community, stereotypes persist. She continues to receive phone calls from people asking her to send someone to catch snakes, monkeys or dogs in their neighbourhood. “I tell them to contact the Greater Chennai Corporation, but they say, ‘We’ll give you money. Please come’. The perception that we are a community of hunters needs to change. We’re trying to break free from a society that has stigmatised us for generations,” she says.