R S TEJUS:
After days of silence, some Karnataka Forest department officers finally visited STPF injured forest guard Basavegowda in the hospital. But this happened only after a massive public outcry and widespread anger on the social media.
Basavegowda is one of Bandipur Tiger Reserve’s bravest frontline defenders — a man who risked his life countless times for conservation of the Bandipur tiger habitat. This shameful delay reveals a deeper crisis in the system; a culture of reactive, hollow management that cares more for public image than for its own people.
He is no ordinary staff member. Over the years, Basavegowda has been part of multiple brave operations — nabbing hardened criminals, chasing down poachers, forest offenders, and standing firm in the face of danger to protect India’s natural heritage.
The Bandipur Tiger Reserve proudly promotes programs like Friends of Bandipur to create forest awareness. But when a true friend of Bandipur — a frontline warrior who spent years protecting these forests — suffers serious injuries, the forest department needs public outrage to remember him.
What worst examples of bad leadership could there be?
Management is not about slogans and social media campaigns.
Leadership is about standing with your people in their darkest moments — not because of fear, not because of pressure, but because it is your duty. A system that forgets its frontline staff until it is shamed into action, is a system already decaying from within.
If we cannot support the brave hearts who patrol forests, catch poachers, and protect India’s natural treasures, how can we expect real conservation success? Demoralized, neglected staff cannot deliver victories.
If bravery is met with abandonment, even the strongest will one day stop fighting.
Basavegowda’s case is not an isolated incident — it is a warning and such cases are happening frequently. Across law enforcement agencies – the Forest Department, the Police, the armed forces, the paramilitary forces who are in the frontline is often celebrated via speeches and eulogies but forgotten when they are suffering.
This cannot be allowed to continue.
The wellbeing of our frontline heroes is directly proportional to the survival of our forests, our safety, and even our nation.
Management must institutionalize a culture of support — immediate medical care, personal visits, emotional assistance, and above all, respect that does not depend on public pressure.
When protectors are forgotten, what remains to protect?
The truth is stark:
The real Friends of Bandipur are not event participants or weekend conservationists.
They are men like Basavegowda — who brave fires, forests, poachers, and criminals every single day.
It is a national shame that such warriors must wait for hashtags and hallabulla before receiving basic humane courtesies from their own department.
Bandipur’s management has failed one of its best frontline staff.
If this apathy continues, they will fail all of us.
It is time for change — real, institutional, and heartfelt — not driven by fear of backlash but by genuine respect for those who protect what remains wild and wilderness in India.
Because when our defenders are abandoned, our future is abandoned with them.