Moajungshi Menon
Language is more than a tool of communication, it is the vessel of people’s history, culture and collective memory. The Ao Naga tribe is blessed with a rich cultural heritage, rooted in history, tradition and a unique linguistic identity. For the Ao tribe, this truth is embodied in the two dialects, Chungli and Mongsen, which for centuries have carried our stories, songs, traditions and culture. Every Ao household once nurtured these dialects as part of daily life, ensuring that children grew up not only speaking but also thinking and living in their mother tongue.
Yet today, this inheritance faces a serious threat. A visible trend has emerged within our community. Many families, particularly millennial parents are raising their children in English or Nagamese rather than Ao. This shift, while gradual at first, carries grave implications for the future of our cultural identity.
The reasons are not difficult to trace. Millennials as parents have been deeply shaped by globalization, modern education and exposure to Western culture. English, as the language of education and opportunity naturally dominates their speech. Nagamese, serving as a convenient common language is often used for everyday conversation. While these languages are undoubtedly important, their dominance in the home is eroding the place of Ao language in the very space where it matters the most.
It must be stressed that the home is the first school of language. Churches and Sunday schools may teach Ao hymns or lessons to read and write, but these cannot substitute for the natural rhythm of mother-tongue conversations at home. If children do not hear and speak Ao with their parents daily, they risk losing both fluency and emotional connection to the language. Once that bond is weakened, no institution can restore it.
The Ao tribe today numbers a little over two lakhs. If this trend continues unchecked then in sixty years, fluent Ao speakers may become alarmingly few. This is not merely about language loss it is about the erosion of our songs, folklore, traditions and cultural identity itself. When a language dies an entire way of seeing and understanding the world dies with it.
Other tribes within Nagaland provide a striking contrast. No matter where they go, even in distant Indian cities, they make it a point to converse in their own dialect whenever they meet. This practice not only strengthens their sense of identity but also ensures that their younger generations remain deeply connected to their roots. The Ao community must learn from this and consciously protect its linguistic treasure. Ao families must learn from this resilience and take conscious steps to do the same.
This is not to dismiss the value of English or Nagamese. Both have their rightful place in education, careers and social interactions. But while the world will teach our children global languages, only we as parents can teach them Ao. If we fail in this, no school, no textbook, no society will do it for us. As a community, we must take pride in speaking Ao at home and encourage our children to do the same. Society and schools will take care of teaching other languages but the responsibility of preserving Ao rests in our own homes.
Therefore, this is both an academic concern and an emotional plea. The survival of Ao language depends not on policy or institutions but on the choices made daily at dining tables, in living rooms and during bedtime stories. If millennial parents, who are most influenced by Western culture, resolve to speak Ao at home, the language will not merely survive but flourish. If they do not, we risk losing more than words—we risk losing ourselves.
Parents and community members must therefore rise to this responsibility with courage and pride. The task is not too difficult, simply choose to speak Ao at home, teach Ao songs to your children, tell them bedtime stories in Ao and use the language in everyday conversations. What may seem like small acts are in fact powerful steps that will ensure the survival of our heritage.
Each parent who speaks Ao at home becomes a guardian of the language and each child who learns it becomes a bearer of our culture into the future. Together, we can create a movement that begins at home and echoes across generations.
To preserve Ao language is to preserve our identity, our dignity, culture and tradition. Let us not be the generation that allowed this treasure to fade away. Instead, let us be the generation that renewed it, with pride and conviction for the children of tomorrow.
The call is clear: Speak Ao at home. Pass it on. Preserve who we are.
~ Moajungshi Menon