Bee Inspired by Nature: Why Nagaland’s Indigenous Beekeeping Matters More Than Ever | Amba Jamir

Today, the 20th May 2025, as we mark World Bee Day 2025, the global theme — “Bee inspired by nature to nourish us all” — feels particularly close to home here in Nagaland. Our hills have long nurtured a quiet but vital relationship between people and pollinators. Long before honey became a packaged commodity or a policy discussion, bees were already part of our forests, our farms, and our food systems.

In Nagaland, beekeeping has never been just about jars of golden syrup. It has been about coexistence — with the forest, with the seasons, and with the small but powerful insects that pollinate our crops and wild plants. Our state is home to an astonishing variety of native bees — from the widely kept Asian honeybee (Apisceranaindica) to the lesser-known Indian stingless bee (Trigonairidipennis), revered for its medicinal honey, and the dwarf honeybee (Apisflorea) and rock bee (Apislaboriosa) found wild in the higher altitudes of eastern Nagaland.

In some places, like Yehemi Village in Zunheboto district, during a trip to Longkhim,l spotted rows of log hives placed along the highway — ten or more at a time. These are not ornamental. They are working homes for bees, carefully designed by farmers who know the habits of wild colonies. As one local explained to me, hardwood and warm wood are often preferred for these hives. Why? Because they last longer and help maintain a stable temperature — something that matters immensely for bee health and honey yield. While I couldn’t confirm the exact species of wood, it’s likely they use local trees such as oak, alder, or rhododendron.

These traditional practices — using log cavities, bamboo tubes, earthen pots, or even bottle gourds as hives — aren’t new. They’re just not often spoken about outside the villages. And yet they represent an ecologically sound and culturally rich system of beekeeping that works with nature, not against it.

Beekeeping has been growing in Nagaland — both in numbers and potential. According to recent estimates, the state produces around 440 metric tonnes of honey a year, with the aim of reaching 2,000 MT by 2030. If scaled sustainably, this could mean direct livelihoods for 600–700 people, and indirect benefits for up to 15,000 across the value chain — from hive makers to honey processors and sellers. Events like the Hornbill Festival have already helped showcase Nagaland Honey to wider markets, and interest is growing.

But bees do more than make honey. They are our primary pollinators. Our oranges, Naga chillies, cucumbers, tomatoes — even the wild greens foraged from the forest — depend on bees for seed and fruit production. Without them, yields drop, diversity shrinks, and food becomes harder to grow.

This is not just speculation. In 2017, Odisha reported a 90% decline in four out of five bee species. In Bangalore, a 20% drop in bee populations has been recorded. Closer home, farmers across parts of Assam and eastern Nagaland report fewer wild hives and changes in flowering cycles. Yet India still lacks a national study that tracks these declines, let alone addresses them.

And while farmers may not always use the term “pollinator crisis,” they see the signs: poor fruiting, shrinking harvests, changing flowering times. Add to this the impact of pesticides, monocultures, and the introduction of GM crops — and the situation becomes more precarious. Even stingless bees, once abundant, are now becoming rare in many areas.

This is why the theme of World Bee Day 2025 matters. It calls on us to be inspired not by industrial agriculture, but by the wisdom of nature — and by those who have quietly followed its rhythm for generations. Nagaland’s traditional beekeeping is one such wisdom. It is not just about preserving bees; it is about respecting the ecological balance that sustains us all.

So how do we move forward?
We can begin by supporting our own. Farmer-beekeepers need recognition, access to better tools (not synthetic hives, but region-specific support), and market linkages that don’t exploit. Schools can introduce pollinator education into classrooms. Local governments can ensure that forest and farming policies account for pollinator habitats. And perhaps most urgently, we need strong action on pesticide regulation — not just paper laws, but real accountability on the ground.

If we lose the bees, we lose more than just honey. We lose a part of our culture, our food security, and our ecological future. But if we protect them — through knowledge, care, and collaboration — we safeguard not only our crops but our communities.

Let’s listen to the bees. They’ve been speaking through the flowers all along.

~Amba Jamir

Policy & Development Strategist