A Citizen’s Reflection on Governance, Responsibility and Future of Nagaland

It has become increasingly evident that the Honourable Governor of Nagaland is often constrained to speak within the tight boundaries of political diplomacy. Those who follow the realities of Nagaland’s governance understand that his words—carefully measured and meticulously balanced—reflect an attempt to navigate the complex political atmosphere of our State rather than an uninhibited assessment of ground realities.

But we, the ordinary citizens, are not bound by such constraints. We live with the consequences of decisions made at the highest levels, and therefore, it is our right—and responsibility—to express what we see and know.

And we know, undeniably, what our Chief Minister Neiphiu Rio represents today. For years, his governance and policy directions have drifted far from the expectations, hopes, and trust of the Naga people. The Hornbill Festival, for instance—once envisioned as a cultural celebration—has now grown into a mega-event heavily marketed with international partnerships. Yet for all the global glamour, the lived reality in Nagaland remains unchanged. Rural development remains stagnant. Infrastructure struggles. Youth unemployment continues to soar. And district after district remains left out of the so-called development corridor.

The festival earns publicity, yes—but what does it earn for the ordinary Naga? What does it contribute to long-term growth, district-level empowerment, or equitable distribution of resources? Very little, if at all.

This is not the first time we have seen grand public relations overshadow ground realities. In 2011, the Chief Minister travelled to Northern Ireland, delivering a lecture at Queen’s University Belfast, speaking openly about the Naga political struggle. He visited pig farms showcasing advanced agricultural practices. He later travelled to London and met the daughter of A. Z. Phizo, the most symbolic figure of Naga nationalism.

Twelve years have passed since then. So we must ask, as responsible citizens: What became of all those visits? What meaningful outcomes reached the people? What tangible progress did Nagaland receive from those expensive, well-photographed trips?

The honest truth is that the gap between promises and outcomes has only widened. Nagaland today needs leadership rooted in accountability, transparency, and vision—not one centred around isolated projects that benefit only certain pockets of the State.

It is time to speak plainly: the Chief Minister has held power long enough. The prolonged accumulation of political influence, resources, and control has not translated into development or opportunity for the rising generation. Instead, it has created an imbalance where one festival, one village, and one narrative receive more attention than the dreams of youth across all districts.