In contemporary Nagaland, the word development has become synonymous with any visible government activity, be it a freshly blacktopped road, a painted government building, or a half-complete drainage system. For many, these structures, regardless of quality, longevity or utility, are seen as signs of progress. But is this truly development? Or have we mistaken surface-level changes for deeper societal transformation?
Development is not just the laying of bricks and mortar. It is not a hastily erected village gate, a signboard, or a one-off road that lasts only until the next monsoon. True development begins with the mind, it is about nurturing critical thinking, long-term planning, public participation, and institutional integrity. It is about building systems that work even when individuals change. In our rush to show “proof” of progress, we have reduced development to optics.
Where is policy? Where is long-term vision? Where is the coordinated formulation, implementation, supervision, and execution of programmes designed to uplift lives? In many cases, public projects begin without proper consultation. Schemes are implemented with no accountability, often plagued by delays, poor workmanship, or lack of monitoring. Worse, there’s little space for feedback, correction, or evaluation.
A concrete drain is of no value if it doesn’t function. A school building means nothing if teachers are absent. A hospital with beds but no doctors, or an office without staff, mocks the very idea of development. Without policy clarity, institutional coordination, and a strong will to execute in the public interest, projects only serve the contractor class, not the common people.
Development is also education. It is healthcare. It is digital and financial literacy. It is clean governance. It is opportunities for youth to thrive in their own land, not be pushed into outmigration. It is public transport, disaster preparedness, urban planning, environmental protection. It is gender equality, cultural preservation, and a civic-minded population.
We must stop applauding every ribbon-cutting ceremony and start asking deeper questions: What problem does this solve? Who benefits? Was it needed? Will it last? Was there local input? Is it inclusive?
If we truly care about development, we must shift our lens from the visible to the impactful, from the temporary to the transformative. Nagaland cannot afford to equate activity for development.
