Sri Vijaya Puram | June 23, 2025: When Shreya returned to her hometown of Sri Vijaya Puram in 2022, fresh from completing her postgraduate degree in biotechnology at a reputed South Indian university, she carried a clear vision—conduct research at the intersection of molecular biology and indigenous medicine. She imagined a lab, a mentor, and a meaningful role that would let her apply her training close to home. But more than two years later, she finds herself tutoring schoolchildren in biology, earning less than ₹10,000 a month. “I feel like a misfit,” she says. “Even private pharma companies here hire for sales, not science. There’s no ecosystem to support people like me.”
Her story reflects a wider disconnect in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, where the economy, at least on paper, has never looked better. Government data shows that the Union Territory’s per capita Net State Domestic Product (NSDP) surged to an all-time high of ₹2,75,757 in 2024—up from ₹2,58,142 the year before and ₹2,29,570 in 2022. Since 2012, when it stood at ₹89,100, per capita income has more than tripled. Compared to the national per capita income of ₹1,72,276, the Islands appear remarkably affluent. But that affluence is unevenly distributed.
The prosperity largely benefits those employed in the government sector, who comprise about 20 percent of the working population and enjoy stable, inflation-linked salaries, subsidised housing, and island-specific allowances. For everyone else—private school teachers, retail workers, hospitality staff, construction labourers, salon assistants, and contract employees—the numbers mean little. Monthly incomes for most private sector workers remain stuck between ₹12,000 and ₹20,000, often without any social security, health benefits, or job protection.
Take the case of Aditya Narayan, a 26-year-old with an M.Tech in Electrical and Electronics Engineering from a central university. He returned to the Islands in 2022, hoping to work in his field. “I applied to more than ten organisations, both private and government, but found nothing,” he says. “Most private firms here don’t need engineering specialists. The few roles available are contract-based or located in mainland India.” Today, he works as a gardener in the government sector in Rangat, drawing a salary of ₹25,000 a month—far less than what his qualifications would typically command. To supplement his income, he tutors schoolchildren on weekends.
The economic pressures are compounded by the Islands’ unique geography. With nearly all goods—vegetables, fuel, construction material, electronics—shipped in from the mainland, costs are consistently high. Onion prices in Sri Vijaya Puram touched ₹65 per kilo in April, nearly 20 percent above mainland rates. Petrol and diesel have hovered above ₹100 a litre for most of the year. These elevated prices affect everyone, but only government employees are cushioned by dearness allowances and cost-of-living compensation. Private workers face the same market with none of the protection.
Rents offer another window into the divide. A two-bedroom home in central Sri Vijaya Puram costs anywhere between ₹15,000 and ₹25,000 a month—rates set by what a Group B or C government officer can afford. For private workers earning ₹16,000 or less, this means co-living, skipping meals, or delaying medical expenses. Utilities, groceries, and even mobile plans are priced under the assumption that households have stable incomes. The result is an economy that structurally excludes the very people who sustain it.
Even within the private sector, there’s stark stratification. Senior professionals in telecom, aviation, or premium resorts may earn ₹50,000 or more, rivaling government peers. But they are a slim minority. For the vast majority, there’s no clear path to upward mobility. For every high-paid technician, dozens of young people like Shreya and Aditya find themselves sidelined—overqualified, underutilised, and invisible to the system.
Economists caution against over-reliance on headline economic indicators. “Per capita income reflects average output, not actual distribution,” says a former NITI Aayog advisor who has worked on island economies. “It’s possible to see record growth in NSDP while a majority of residents earn far less than the average. And in small, closed economies like the Andamans, these disparities become even more pronounced.”
The unemployment crisis adds another layer. According to CMIE data, the Andaman and Nicobar Islands recorded an average unemployment rate of over 14 percent in 2024—among the highest in the country. With few large employers and almost no industrial base, government jobs are not only more lucrative but often the only route to social and financial security. The scramble for these roles is intensifying as private avenues shrink.
Some civil society groups are now pushing for corrective action. Proposals include mandating pay parity for outsourced staff in public institutions—such as clerks, cleaners, and drivers—who perform the same duties as their regularised counterparts but earn half as much. Others have called for regional revisions to the minimum wage, which remains pegged at ₹11,200 per month for unskilled workers, a figure out of step with island inflation. There are also demands for job-linked protections such as provident fund coverage, health insurance, and rent subsidies for informal sector employees.
But without urgent reform, the divide is likely to widen. On one side are government employees with secure futures; on the other, private workers struggling to survive in an economy they helped build. “We see news about booming tourism, rising incomes, and new infrastructure,” says Aditya. “But for young people like us, it feels like we’re being left out of the story.”
From a distance, the Andaman and Nicobar Islands look prosperous—flush with rising statistics, scenic resorts, and economic ambition. But a closer look reveals a deepening fault line, where growth is real but its benefits are tightly gated. Without structural reforms to employment, wages, and access, the islands risk becoming a two-speed economy—one that surges ahead, while leaving much of its workforce standing still.
This article is part of The Wave Andaman’s special series, “The Island Divide,” which examines the growing economic and social disparities in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands. From wage stagnation and unemployment to housing access and education gaps, the series explores how a region long viewed as strategically important and naturally abundant is now grappling with rising internal inequalities.
