A father stood with his young daughter as placards and banners formed the backdrop at Supermarket, Dimapur, on July 20. They were among those who turned up for the peaceful protest themed “Nagaland Supports CJP: We Stand With Sonam Wangchuk.”
For the young child, perhaps, it was a front-row lesson in democracy.
The gathering was modest in number. Apparently mobilised at short notice largely through social media. What it lacked in numbers was perhaps compensated by the composition of those who turned up and the passion with which they articulated their concerns.
There were parents with children, school students in their teens, educators, and a few media and social media professionals. Equally noticeable, however, was the conspicuous absence of those one might ordinarily expect at a gathering centred partly on concerns affecting students and education.
One participant asked bluntly: Where are the leaders? Where are the student leaders? His contention was that if student welfare is genuinely at the heart of their mandate, they should be at the forefront when questions concerning education and the future of students are raised.
The question is pertinent in Nagaland.
The State is hardly insulated from developments in India's larger education and examination systems. According to National Testing Agency data, 3,866 candidates from Nagaland registered for NEET-UG 2026, of whom 3,289 appeared and 1,946 qualified, denoting a pass percentage around 59.2%, the State's best so far. Nagaland also has a number of CBSE-affiliated schools. Developments involving institutions such as the NTA and CBSE, therefore, directly affect students and families in the State.
Significantly, conversations at the July 20 gathering indicated that those present were not necessarily drawn exclusively by support for CJP or Sonam Wangchuk. For some, concerns over education reform, institutional accountability and the democratic right to raise one's voice appeared to be mutually reinforcing.
The father with his daughter later spoke about the future of children and the younger generation, accountability in education and the importance of raising a civil and democratic voice. Another participant, a social media professional, placed education at the centre of his reason for attending, stressing its vital role in shaping an informed and responsible society.
In that sense, the gathering perhaps became more than its stated theme. Those present had apparently responded largely as individuals to a call circulated through social media, moved by concerns they considered important.
Yet, the gathering also invites reflection on the nature of public engagement in Nagaland.
If few parents can bring their children and teenagers can stand with placards over concerns about education and accountability, where are the other parents, educators, student leaders and organisations whose mandates encompass these constituencies? This is not to judge anyone's commitment by attendance at a single protest. Nor must every organisation respond to every issue.
The larger question, perhaps, is one of consistency. Nagaland has no shortage of student unions, civil society organisations, tribal bodies, professional associations and community institutions capable of mobilising and shaping public discourse. Yet public outrage can sometimes appear selective, forceful on certain issues while comparatively muted on others.
Conscientious activism requires empathy beyond geographical boundaries, but also introspection without convenient blind spots. Concern for an injustice elsewhere and accountability at home are not competing choices.
The July 20 gathering may have been small, pose larger questions.
If education matters, are student leaders sufficiently engaged with the everyday concerns of those they represent? Are parents demanding a credible and accountable examination system? Are educators and community leaders willing to speak when institutions falter?
The simple question, then, is: Should people act only when issues directly affect them? The same conscience, empathy and urgency must be consistently extended beyond one’s own doorstep.
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