When Ravji Garsia of the Bhil tribe in Ghada village, 167 km from Vadodara, found himself a primary schoolteacher as a bride, he had to shell out 10 `tolas' of gold and Rs 50,000 in cash. To foot the bill of his marriage to Nimaben, Ravji says he had to move to Vadodara for work.

In his community -- 45,000-strong, spread over 380 villages -- it's the boy's family that pays the dowry to ``balance the loss'' to the girl's family. It's a tradition that goes back 80 years but now with spread of education among girls, no one is complaining more than prospective grooms. More so when many of them are forced to migrate to cities in search of jobs.

``Just a couple of years ago, only about one per cent of the girls studied upto the SSC level. Now it's about 10 per cent,'' says G N Devy, director of the Bhasha Research Centre, an NGO working with tribals. ``Education has caught on among tribal girls.''

It's not just experts who are saying that. ``Education and employment are the only ways tribals can extricate themselves from their current position,'' says Dahyabhai Pargi of Kunda village. His daughter Shoma is studying in Class VI in a local government school.

Five years later, her senior school certificate may win her a reserved post in the tribal-dominated areas. ``About 14 per cent of the jobs in schools and primary health centres are earmarked for tribals. Now girls are claiming a share of them as well,'' says an officer of the Dahod district collectorate.

Those who are frowning at this development are the parents of young men looking for a bride. ``The more awareness levels increase, the more it will threaten the centuries-old tribal customs. Parents of girls who have studied up to the SSC level are now acting pricey and demanding more dowry. A few years ago, no one could have imagined that dowry rates would become so high,'' says Mansukh Pargi of Ghada village.

Soaring bride prices bear out the truth. If an unlettered, unemployed tribal girl is worth Rs 12,000 in cash and a kg of silver, an SSC graduate fetches six `tolas' of gold and Rs 15,000 in cash. If the girl is employed as a teacher or a nurse, the price shoots up to 10 `tolas' of gold and Rs 50,000 in cash.

Young men, however, claim that while women can get jobs in the local schools or at the health centre, they have to go to the cities. ``Teaching is something only girls go in for,'' says Sankarbhai Pargi of Bhanvar village. ``I tried to join the police force, but was rejected. So I moved to the city.''

Devy agrees that malnutritioned tribals are often found wanting in physical specifications for jobs. ``The only real options before tribal youths are farming or migrating,'' he adds.

That higher education is no alternative comes out from what Shankarbhai Damor says. ``I went to college, but dropped out after a few months. There's such a vast difference between the quality of education in school and in college,'' says the youth, who now works as a labour supervisor in a Surat construction company.

Migration is also encouraged by the decreasing land-holdings among tribal farmers, as a father divides his land among two or more sons. ``So, one or two youths of a family are forced to move to the city,'' says Devy, who has studied the phenomenon. Once there, they are easily absorbed by the thriving construction industry.

While villagers claim 40 per cent of their youths have migrated to the city because of these factors, Devy singles out the increasing bride-price as the reason for the seven-fold explosion in tribal migration -- from 5,000 to 35,000 -- in the past year. Devy organised a meet on Sunday in Limkheda, in which he tried to impress upon them the threat migration poses to tribal culture, and urge them to reduce the bride-prices.