Nagas, the descendants of brave warriors, have slowly turned into a people weighed down by anxiety, fear, and endless uncertainties.
In today’s fast-changing world, it is no longer unusual to find every household, every family, and every heart battling a quiet storm — the storm of worry. Among us Nagas in particular, a people once celebrated for our courage, resilience, and unity, there is a troubling transformation underway. We, the descendants of brave warriors who once roamed the hills with fearless hearts and unwavering resolve, have slowly turned into a people weighed down by anxiety, fear, and endless uncertainties. The lever of worry in our lives is no longer within the bounds of normal — it has tipped far beyond.
Where once the sound of war cries echoed in unity and purpose, now silence is broken by whispered doubts and internal unrest. In every Naga home today, you are likely to find individuals wrestling with worries — worries about securing a job, affording education, getting a government contract, accessing basic healthcare, or even finding the next meal. Worry has become so common that it almost feels like a rite of passage in our community — but it is one we never asked for and do not deserve.
Our political leaders are perhaps the most visible victims of this transformation. Once seen as visionaries, who carried the hopes of their people, many now find themselves entangled in a web of anxiety — worrying not just about serving their people, but about staying in power, managing party loyalties, facing growing public criticism, or securing funds for their own supporters. They worry about appeasing higher authorities, keeping promises they know are impossible under current conditions, and even maintaining their personal safety in an increasingly fractured society.
Business people, contractors, and social influencers in our community — once the backbone of economic progress — are also bearing the burden. The rising cost of living, rampant corruption, delayed payments, and unfair competition are enough to keep anyone awake at night. The fear of being left behind in a digital and globalised economy only worsens the pressure. Many are also torn between personal ambitions and community expectations. Their worry is not just about money, but about relevance, legacy, and survival.
Even our church leaders — once the moral anchors and voices of peace — are not immune. In many places, the pulpit has become a platform of pressure. Pastors and elders often worry about maintaining unity among fragmented congregations, sustaining the church financially, and remaining spiritually relevant to a generation growing increasingly skeptical and distracted. They worry about declining youth attendance, church politics, and the subtle infiltration of worldly values that challenge biblical truth. Their spiritual burdens have become mixed with administrative stress and personal fatigue.
At the heart of it all are our families — where the deepest wounds are felt. Parents worry about raising children in a fast-paced, competitive world where traditional values are fading. They worry about school fees, employment opportunities, safety, addiction, and the emotional wellbeing of their children. Meanwhile, our children — who should be carefree and hopeful — are growing up anxious. Pressure to succeed, fear of failure, cyberbullying, broken homes, and social media comparisons leave them confused and insecure
What happened to the warriors in us?
Where once we boldly faced tigers, bullets, and harsh terrains with nothing but machetes and faith, today we tremble at job interviews, delay decisions out of fear of failure, and remain passive in the face of injustice. We have traded the spear of courage for the cloak of fear. We have inherited bravery, but we wear worry.
But all is not lost.
We can reclaim our spirit — the indomitable, daring, and God-fearing soul of our ancestors. The first step is to recognise that worry is not our destiny. Worry, when unchecked, steals our peace, robs our joy, and dims our vision. It distracts us from faith and paralyzes our progress.
We must return to our roots: faith, hard work, unity, simplicity, and community spirit. Our churches must become havens of healing, our homes centres of prayer and communication, and our leaders — in every sphere — must lead by courage and conviction, not by fear or favour.
The brave warriors of yesterday live on in us — not in attire or song alone, but in action and attitude. The time has come to rise, to shake off the spirit of fear, and to once again become warriors — this time not with spears and shields, but with faith, purpose, and resilience.
Let not the land of brave warriors be remembered as a land of anxious "worriers".
Let history write again: the Nagas are a people who overcame not just enemies, but also the inner battles of fear — and emerged stronger.
"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." – Matthew 6:34
A. Anato Swu