Chandrababu Naidu's P4 model — Public-Private-People Partnership — is an ambitious initiative aimed at eradicating poverty in Andhra Pradesh by 2029. The core idea of this program is wealth redistribution.
The model encourages the wealthiest 10% of the population, termed "Margadarsies" (mentors), to support the poorest 20%, called "Bangaru Kutumbams" (golden families), through financial aid, mentorship, and career guidance.
Will this actually happen? That’s a different question.
But what actually is happening? Let's discuss.
We know TCS recently secured the world’s 2nd rank in global IT services brand value at $21.3 billion, just behind Accenture. It has also crossed $30 billion in annual revenue. Technically, TCS is the kind of wealthy giant that can truly adopt Bangaru Kutumbams under the P4 model.
But here lies the irony: Chandrababu Naidu allotted 21.16 acres of public land to TCS at just 99 paise. That land belongs to the people. Instead of turning TCS into a Margadarsi, he gave it land for free. How does that align with his own P4 philosophy?
This isn’t just about TCS. Giving away vast land parcels to institutions like SRM and other wealthy entities is laughable. These organizations are financially strong—perfect candidates to act as mentors. Yet, they're treated like beneficiaries, not contributors.
Over the years, how many acres have been handed out to rich corporations? How many jobs have actually been created? How much tax has the state earned from these deals? Can the government publish a transparent report on this?
And there’s more. Andhra Pradesh already has functioning Assembly and High Court buildings. Why demolish and rebuild them now, wasting public funds? Who demanded a new Assembly or High Court? Assembly building is used barely 50 days a year — the current ones are perfectly functional. Is this reconstruction an excuse to funnel kickbacks to contractors? The public is bound to suspect so. The government owes the people a clear justification.
Chandrababu’s P4 model and his contradictory actions are not just puzzling—they’re alarming and resemble a comedy of errors.
Usha Chowdhary
