
Her husband’s death, she says, has nothing to do with the fact that the government is trying to save tigers: “This was my fate.” Nor is she worried that India’s tiger population is on the rise. Like many Hindus in India, she views humans as one piece of a complex web of life composed of all creatures, each with an equal right to existence. I feel insecure and dependent.”ĭespite all this, Gopamma feels no resentment toward the tiger that killed her husband. “My older son could have studied, but now both of my sons have to work. “My life was much better when my husband was alive,” she says. Her son had to drop out of university and move back home to support her. In the wake of her husband’s death, Gopamma struggled not only with grief but economic hardship. The tiger that killed him was still sitting next to the body. Just a few metres inside the forest, the group discovered Hanumantha’s half-eaten remains. Gopamma sent for her son, who gathered a search party and headed to Bandipur Tiger Reserve, a nearby national park in south-western India.


Her husband, Hanumantha, should have returned from collecting firewood an hour before.

By 11:00, Gopamma Nayaka knew something was wrong.
