In the heart of Andhra Pradesh, where the air carries the sharp tang of red chillies drying under the sun, a slow-burning crisis is unfolding. For the region’s chilli farmers, long celebrated as the backbone of India’s spice trade, this season has brought not just the usual toil but a devastating plunge in prices that threatens their livelihoods. From the bustling Guntur market—known as Asia’s largest chilli hub—to the dusty fields of the state’s coastal plains, despair is mounting as the cost of cultivation far outstrips what farmers can earn.
The numbers tell a stark story. Last year, red chillies fetched as much as 28,000 rupees per quintal (100 kilograms). Today, prices hover below 7,000 rupees, a drop blamed on weakening global demand and an oversupply in domestic markets. For farmers like K. Venkatesh, a 45-year-old grower from Prakasam district, the math no longer adds up. “I spent 15,000 rupees per acre to grow this crop,” he said, gesturing at a pile of crimson pods wilting in the heat. “Now I can’t even cover half that. How do I feed my family?”
The crisis has rippled across Andhra Pradesh, a state that produces nearly half of India’s chillies—some 1.2 million metric tons are expected this year, according to Chief Minister N. Chandrababu Naidu. But with only 400,000 tons procured so far, and prices in free fall, the government has scrambled to respond. On Friday, Union Agriculture Minister Shivraj Singh Chouhan announced that the central government would step in under its Market Intervention Scheme (MIS), a program designed to stabilize prices for perishable crops. The plan includes a proposed support price of 11,781 rupees per quintal, though details are still being finalized.
For many farmers, the aid—capped initially at 25 percent of their produce—feels like a belated lifeline. “It’s something, but it won’t cover our losses,” said P. Lakshmi, a farmer from Guntur who joined a recent protest at the market. She and hundreds of others have taken to the streets, their voices drowned out by the hum of traders haggling over dwindling stocks. The unrest has drawn political attention, with Naidu, a veteran leader of the Telugu Desam Party, urging the central government to lift procurement limits and boost exports—a plea echoed by local leaders across party lines.
The chillies of Andhra Pradesh, prized for their fiery heat and deep color, have long been a global commodity, shipped to kitchens in Southeast Asia, Europe, and beyond. But this year, international buyers have pulled back, citing oversaturation and shifting tastes. “The market was strong before,” Naidu said in a videoconference with Chouhan this week, according to a state official statement. “Now, due to a decline in global demand, prices have crashed.” The Indian Council of Agricultural Research has been tasked with assessing crop damage and production costs, a step that could shape the final MIS price.
The situation has also ignited a political firestorm. Y.S. Jagan Mohan Reddy, the opposition leader and former chief minister, accused Naidu of misleading farmers by leaning on federal aid rather than deploying state resources like the Andhra Pradesh State Cooperative Marketing Federation. Reddy paid a visit to Guntur’s chilli market this month, a trip Naidu’s allies criticized as a publicity stunt. Naidu, in turn, pointed to his record, claiming his government released 138 crore rupees to support chilli farmers during a similar slump before 2019—an unprecedented move, he said.
Beyond the political sparring, the crisis underscores broader vulnerabilities in India’s agricultural economy. Andhra Pradesh’s chilli belt, spanning some 500,000 acres, is a microcosm of the challenges facing smallholder farmers: volatile markets, climate pressures, and a reliance on exports that can falter without warning. The state’s scorching summers and humid monsoons already make farming a gamble; this year’s price collapse has turned it into a losing bet for many.
In Guntur, the mood is a mix of resignation and defiance. On Friday, poultry farmers in the city organized a free chicken-and-egg distribution to counter bird flu rumors—a sign of resilience amid hardship. Chilli farmers, too, are seeking ways to reclaim their footing. Some are pooling resources to store crops, hoping prices rebound. Others, like Venkatesh, are simply waiting. “We’ve seen bad years before,” he said, squinting at the horizon. “But this one feels different.”
The central government’s intervention may offer temporary relief, but experts warn it’s no panacea. “MIS is a Band-Aid,” said R. Vijayalakshmi, an agricultural economist. “Without structural fixes—better market access, crop diversification, or climate-resilient farming—these farmers will be back here next year.” For now, the Centre is exploring export incentives, a move that could lift prices if successful. A meeting in New Delhi on Friday hashed out details, with officials promising swift action.
As the sun sets over Andhra’s chilli fields, the stakes are clear. For farmers, it’s a question of survival. For the state, it’s a test of whether promises can outlast the heat of the moment. In Guntur’s market, where the scent of spice still lingers, the answer remains as uncertain as the next harvest.