Across Nagaland, conservation efforts are quietly transforming the ecological landscape. From the reintroduction of the critically endangered Asian giant tortoise in Peren to grassroots campaigns for pangolin protection in the Indo-Myanmar border areas as reported in this newspaper, the state is witnessing a commendable surge in community-led environmental action. These are not isolated gestures; they are the result of strategic collaborations between forest officials, non-profits, scientists, and most importantly, village communities. It is heartening to see that conservation in Nagaland is no longer confined to government mandates and that people are beginning to own it.
In Peren, the recent release of ten Asian giant tortoises, bred in captivity at the Nagaland Zoological Park and released into a community reserve, was not just symbolic. It marked the success of years of patient groundwork. Villagers have stepped up as ‘tortoise guardians,’ and the district administration has assured long-term protective measures. Likewise, along the Indo-Myanmar border, IBAPWO is working with villagers to curb pangolin trafficking. Their efforts show how conservation is less about laws and fines and more about stories, knowledge, engagement, and trust.
But while this green wave rises in many corners of Nagaland, one cannot help but notice the absence of such momentum in Mokokchung district.
Ironically, Mokokchung has some of the oldest traditions of forest designation. Almost every village boasts of a “reserved forest,” often enshrined in customary law. But one must ask the uncomfortable question: how active are these reserves in real terms? Are they monitored, nurtured, and allowed to regenerate, or are they merely ceremonial names in the village inventory?
Unlike other districts, there is a visible lack of organized, community-driven conservation initiatives in Mokokchung. There are no individuals dedicated to conservation efforts. There are no known species reintroductions, no biodiversity monitoring programs, and no collaboration with state or national conservation agencies. Why is that so?
One possible issue could be a sense of complacency. Mokokchung has long been seen as culturally and administratively advanced, and this may have led to an underestimation of ecological degradation over time. Another factor could be the rapid pace of land-use changes, which often prioritize short-term development over long-term sustainability. Additionally, community-based conservation requires proactive leadership and a sense of shared ecological responsibility, something that perhaps is unheard of in the district.
Hopefully, all is not lost. The presence of reserved forests means that the foundation already exists. What is lacking is reactivation. Mokokchung’s youth, student bodies, and active civil society can become catalysts, just as youth have become ‘tortoise guardians’ in Peren. Conservation should not be seen as a rural obligation; it is a modern responsibility.
Nagaland is setting an example for India with its model of community-led conservation. But for that model to be truly successful, Mokokchung must step up. It’s time to look beyond names on a map and begin nurturing the green sanctuaries that are already within our reach.
