Forest, Food, and Faith: Faunal Practices of the Mro

For the Mro of the Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT), food is never just sustenance. It is an expression of their relationship with the forest, their spiritual beliefs, and their social identity. Every grain of rice grown in the jhum fields, every pig reared behind a bamboo house, and every hunt brought back from the forest reflects centuries of ecological knowledge and cultural values.

This article presents the food habits of the Mro and their interactions with both domestic and wild animals, revealing a way of life deeply tied to biodiversity, while also showing the pressures of modern encroachment and ecological loss.

Daily Food Habits

Rice grown in shifting cultivation (jhum) fields forms the staple of every meal, while pork remains the most cherished and celebrated food. Every respondent in the survey confirmed this preference. Other meats—beef, fish, and small birds—supplement diets when available, but pork carries cultural weight, often prepared in feasts and rituals.

This reliance on rice and pork illustrates the Mro worldview: the jhum field and the pigsty together secure both survival and social prestige.

Domestic Animals and Their Meanings

The Mro keep a wide range of domestic animals, but each serves a different function:

Pigs and chickens are the most common, raised for meat and ritual.

Koel birds are reared in surprising numbers, kept not only for food but also as pets and for their melodic calls.

Cows are few but significant, reserved for sacrifice in special ceremonies.

Dogs are found in nearly every household. They are guardians of the home, companions in the field, and, symbolically, protectors against evil spirits. Farmers note that dogs even consume human waste, reinforcing their role as cleaners of both space and spirit.

Notably, goats are absent from Mro villages. Unlike most Bangladeshi farming communities, the Mro avoid rearing goats because they strip bark from young garden trees, threatening household orchards. This refusal reflects an ecological choice rooted in long experience.

Sources of fodder are both forest and field. Chickens and pigs thrive on rice husks, while cows graze freely in the surrounding hills. The health and number of livestock is seen as a sign of wealth, indicating a household’s prosperity.

Harvesting the Wild

Beyond domestication, the forest remains an essential pantry. The Mro hunt and gather a wide range of animals:

Mammals: wild boar (Sus scrofa), barking deer (Muntiacus muntjak), and sambar deer (Cervus unicolor) rank among the most preferred.

Birds and insects: generally lower in preference, though jungle fowl (Gallus gallus) and seasonal insects are occasionally eaten.

Reptiles, amphibians, mollusks, and crabs: harvested opportunistically, reflecting a flexible diet attuned to forest abundance.

Nothing from a hunt is wasted. Meat is eaten fresh or preserved, while bones, skulls, horns, feathers, and shells are transformed into ornaments, decorations, or symbols of honor. Skulls and horns are hung at the entrance of houses as markers of prestige. Bird feathers brighten hair buns and festival wear. Even medicinal knowledge is embedded in hunting: wild boar meat, for instance, is believed to ease rheumatism.

Sacred Animals and Taboos

Not all animals are hunted. Within the Mro community, specific clans (gosthi) maintain taboos against killing certain species:

Kan bauk gosthi protect the monitor lizard.

Naicha gosthi avoid killing eagles.

Morog gosthi refrain from hunting jungle fowl.

Susprim gosthi respect tigers as sacred.

Valluk gosthi forbid the killing of wild bears, recalling ancestral stories where bear’s milk once saved human lives.

These clan-specific prohibitions weave spiritual belief into ecological practice, ensuring that not all species face equal hunting pressure.

In addition, Buddhist Mro households observe Go-Hotta—a cow sacrifice performed when a vow is fulfilled. The meat is shared widely, and the skin is given as a token of honor to relatives and neighbors.

Shrinking Forests and Shifting Strategies

Yet, the Mro themselves recognize that the forest is no longer what it once was. Every respondent in the survey lamented the alarming decline of wildlife and forest cover. Elders recall a time when the hills were dense and game abundant. Today, due to logging, population pressure, and migration of Bengali settlers, the “forest” is often reduced to denuded hills dotted with shrubs.

Species once common—such as the dhole (Cuon alpinus) and leopard (Panthera pardus)—have vanished from Thanchi. Others, like elephants and bears, are now rare sightings. The Mro link these declines directly to external encroachment rather than their own practices.

In response, many households have turned more heavily toward domesticated protein. Pigs and chickens, with their high reproduction rates, are seen as the best alternatives to hunting. Some Mro have even requested support for expanding small-scale livestock programs, believing this would reduce pressure on forests while meeting nutritional needs.

The food habits of the Mro people are not simply dietary choices—they are cultural markers, ecological practices, and spiritual expressions. Rice and pork symbolize the union of jhum and hearth; dogs embody loyalty and protection; wild horns and feathers transform into art and memory. At the same time, sacred taboos preserve species from overhunting, offering a traditional form of conservation.

But the Mro also stand at a crossroads. The rapid decline of forest habitats threatens not only biodiversity but also the very foundations of their culture. Their openness to alternatives—particularly livestock development—suggests a path forward that blends tradition with adaptation.

For conservation policy, the lesson is clear: protecting the Mro’s food culture requires protecting their forests, but also supporting community-led solutions for food security. Any effort to conserve wildlife in the CHT must begin with those who live closest to it, whose lives, beliefs, and identities are inseparable from the forest’s fate.