By Imlisanen Jamir
The East Dimapur Town Council’s new directive may be just a few lines on official letterhead, but it lands like a sledgehammer. No building, it says—residential or commercial—shall begin without a construction permit. For a town that has grown by improvisation more than design, this is a cultural shift as much as a regulatory one.
On paper, the move makes sense. Dimapur is bursting at the seams, its skyline rising without logic, drains choking with runoff from ill-planned structures, and roads narrowing as buildings squeeze toward the edge. This isn’t just messy—it’s dangerous. We sit in the highest seismic risk zone in India. A major quake here could turn unregulated buildings into tombs. Urban planning isn’t a luxury anymore; it’s a survival strategy.
But let’s not pretend the public will embrace this with open arms.
Nagaland has never had a tradition of filing paperwork before building on land one owns. Why should they start now? For many, land is personal, tribal, customary. It’s not some square on a city planner’s map. Imposing permits feels like a stranger walking into your house and demanding to approve your renovations. Add to that a long-standing public mistrust in the system—where ‘permits’ are often synonymous with bribes, delays, and bureaucratic humiliation—and resistance becomes inevitable.
This skepticism isn’t baseless. Many see government directives as top-down pronouncements, dropped without consultation or context. In their eyes, this isn’t about safety or order—it’s another toll gate in a town full of invisible tolls.
Yet, we must ask: what’s the alternative? More floods during monsoons? More buildings leaning into each other like drunks at closing time? The truth is, we’ve been lucky so far. But luck isn’t policy.
To bridge the gap between necessity and public resistance, our town bodies must do more than issue warnings. It must communicate—clearly, humbly, and persistently. Tell people why permits matter. Show how regulated building can reduce flood risks, ease traffic, and prevent disasters. Be transparent. Publish timelines, fees, and names of officials responsible. Make the process simple enough that a common man doesn’t need a middleman.
Just as importantly, ensure rules apply to all. If a poor family needs a permit to build a kitchen extension, so should a well-connected builder planning an apartment block. Double standards will only deepen the distrust.
And here’s where the council has a chance to do something rare: make planning participatory. Involve tribal bodies, colony councils, and local masons. Let them help shape the system—not just follow it. Turn building codes into community agreements.
Because if people feel included, they’re more likely to comply. And Dimapur, with all its energy and edge, deserves a future that’s safer, saner—and built to last.
Comments can be sent to imlisanenjamir@gmail.com
