Sri Vijay Puram, July 5 — In Great Nicobar, coconuts aren’t just falling—they’re vanishing. And the culprits? Troops of Nicobar long-tailed macaques, now running riot across villages, farms, and plantations in what locals are calling a full-blown primate crisis.
Escalating incidents of monkey aggression in the southernmost part of the Andaman and Nicobar Islands have prompted an outcry from residents, settlers, and tribal communities alike. With fruit orchards flattened and coconut trees stripped bare, several villages—especially in and around Laxminagar—have petitioned authorities for urgent action. A formal complaint has been submitted, backed by panchayat leaders and farmers, detailing how the unchecked monkey population is causing not just economic losses but posing serious risks to personal safety. Villagers say the monkeys no longer restrict themselves to the forest fringes. They now enter farmlands in broad daylight, disrupt daily routines, damage crops, and even pose threats along school routes and paths to local health centres.
The Nicobar long-tailed macaque (Macaca fascicularis umbrosa) is a subspecies of the crab-eating macaque and is endemic to the Nicobar Islands. Found on Great Nicobar, Little Nicobar, and Katchal, these monkeys are typically inhabitants of tropical and subtropical moist broadleaf forests. Recognisable by their long tails, brown-grey fur, and pinkish-brown faces, they are naturally frugivorous, subsisting primarily on fruits and nuts. However, when their preferred food sources run low, they are known to supplement their diet with insects, young leaves, bark, flowers, and even small crabs and frogs found in mangrove zones. Their adaptability, while a biological strength, has made them a formidable challenge to farmers trying to protect their harvests.
According to past ecological surveys, over 700 groups of these macaques roam the islands, with some troops comprising up to 50 individuals. Each group typically claims a territory close to a water source and is composed of multiple males and females along with their young. The groups are known for their social complexity and daily routines that involve foraging in the early morning and evening, resting in mid-day clusters, and sleeping in designated roosting trees. In coastal areas, these macaques are more terrestrial and tend to spend more time on the ground than their inland counterparts. They also display high mobility—capable of leaping five metres between trees and swimming to escape threats or cross water bodies.
Despite being protected under Schedule I of India’s Wildlife (Protection) Act, their increasing proximity to farmlands and human settlements has led to rising tensions. Residents point out that promises made during earlier District Planning Committee meetings—including plans to relocate the monkeys to uninhabited islands and to launch public awareness campaigns—have seen no meaningful follow-through. The absence of field-level interventions, deterrent mechanisms, or ecological studies on the root causes of the population surge has only deepened local frustration.
Calls are now growing for a structured and humane intervention strategy that includes scientific relocation efforts, population control measures, compensation for affected farmers, and community-level awareness initiatives to help residents navigate human-wildlife coexistence. Adding to the complexity is the potential for zoonotic disease transmission, a concern flagged in earlier studies that identified the macaques’ susceptibility to malarial parasites. In regions with limited medical access, such proximity poses public health challenges.
While conservationists emphasise the need for ecologically sound and non-lethal measures, villagers across Great Nicobar say the time for reports and meetings is over. With their crops raided, livelihoods affected, and no relief in sight, they are hoping this latest plea finally swings the attention of decision-makers back in their direction—before the monkeys claim the next harvest too.
