Lipokenla Walling
The morning light over the hills of Mokokchung always feels gentle and strangely sacred, as if the day is slowly waking up with a prayer of its own. There’s something about the way the mist slips down the Mopungchuket road, almost like it’s brushing against the roofs and trees while flowing down towards the town. Women step out of their homes at dawn, sweeping their yards with the same rhythm they’ve used for years. The familiar sound of a broom on concrete mixes with the soft hymn drifting from a nearby church loudspeaker. It’s not even 6 AM, and yet everything feels alive and calm at the same time.
Down at Police Point, shopkeepers push up their shutters, greet each other half-awake but smiling, and begin arranging their store for another long day. If someone looked at Mokokchung for the first time in this moment, they might think it’s the most peaceful, disciplined, God-fearing town. And yes, it truly is beautiful. But beauty has a habit of hiding small things, and behind this morning calm lie tiny cracks, plastic bottles stuck in drains, the sharp smell of burning waste drifting from someone’s backyard, and gossip traveling faster than any hymn. These things are not huge disasters, but they hint at something deeper. Something uncomfortable.
And that deeper question is this, in a place where Christianity is woven into our identity, what does it actually mean to be a Christian citizen? Not in theory. Not in Sunday language. But in the dusty, noisy, imperfect reality of daily life.
Jesus gives us a simple command in Matthew 22:37–39: “Love God. Love your neighbor.” Many of us can recite it without thinking. But living it, that is where the real battle begins. Loving your neighbor doesn’t always look like big charity. Sometimes it looks like not throwing your biscuit wrapper on the road. Sometimes it looks like speaking kindly to someone even when your mood is ruined. Or choosing honesty even when lying would be easier. These small habits might look insignificant, but they are the real proof of a Christian heart. Christianity is not loud. It is steady.
The Bible also talks about stewardship, something we often misunderstand. In Genesis 2:15, God asks us to “take care of the garden,” which means we’re caretakers, not owners. And Psalm 24:1 reminds us that “the earth is the Lord’s.” If that’s true, then the streets, hills, rivers, and drains of Mokokchung are not ours, they belong to God. And what do we offer Him? Drains choking with plastic. Smoke from burning garbage swirling into a blue sky God painted with His own hands. Trash piling behind shops. When we walk past these things casually, we reveal the truth, somewhere along the line, we forgot that caring for creation is also a form of worship.
Yet this isn’t hopeless. Most good things begin small. Something as simple as segregating waste at home, composting vegetable scraps, or even having community dustbins that are actually used, these little steps can slowly create a culture of care. Stewardship is not complicated. It’s just intentional.
Christian citizenship also has a social side. The story of the Good Samaritan reminds us that faith notices the unnoticed. In Mokokchung, we have so many people who live quietly on the edges, daily sweepers, elderly people without family nearby, young widows, street vendors, children walking long distances to school, youth struggling with unemployment. Sometimes their struggles are invisible because we’re absorbed in our own routines. But when someone pauses to help an elderly person cross the road, or when a group of youths visits a lonely widow in their ward, Mokokchung’s air changes a little. Compassion softens the atmosphere. Small gestures, nothing dramatic because those are just human kindness that echoes Christ’s heart.
But here is the hard truth, Christianity becomes weak when we become lukewarm. Revelation 3:15–16 warns us about this. Lukewarm faith looks Christian on the outside but lacks the fire inside. And unfortunately, lukewarmness is very easy today. We see it in digital life, people who lift their hands in worship on Sunday but mock others anonymously or spread gossip online. Someone who posts verses online might still tear down someone’s reputation in private. That duality of faith in public but bitterness in private is exactly what Scripture warns against.
Mokokchung is a spiritually rich town, yes. But spiritual richness doesn’t automatically make us mature. Churches are everywhere, beautiful buildings on hillsides, youth fellowships singing with passion, women’s groups organizing visits and cups of encouragement, festivals bringing entire communities together. And yet, after all these events, we still see the same problems, litter, drains overflowing after every rain, piles of waste behind shops, smoke hanging over the town like a reminder of our negligence. This shows that our spirituality sometimes stays inside the church walls instead of flowing into daily life.
The biggest attitude holding us back is the famous silent thought, “Someone else will do it.” Someone else will clean the drain. Someone else will keep the area tidy.
Someone else will fix the problem. And ironically, “someone else” never arrives.
Social media has worsened the situation. People complain online more than they act in real life. It’s easier to write “The town is dirty!” in a status than to pick up one piece of trash. It’s easier to criticize the youth or blame the government than to take responsibility.
But there are possibilities. Imagine if each ward took full responsibility for its own cleanliness for one week every month. Or if churches joined hands not once or twice a year, but consistently, declaring a monthly town-wide service day. These are not impossible ideas. They just require willingness.
Churches, in particular, can lead a transformation. And they already try. Many churches here have clean-up days, charity drives, and social service activities. But if we look honestly, it’s still not enough.
As a youth myself, I know this may sound like something people have heard too often. Yet I must say it, we need to do better. If we were doing enough, why are our streets still unclean? Why do misunderstandings and gossip continue? Why is harmony so fragile? Why does it feel like our spiritual talk is stronger than our spiritual walk?
Churches don’t lack willingness, they lack consistency. A clean-up day once a month is not enough unless the people carry that attitude every day. Real change comes when habits form, not when programs end.
The youth of Mokokchung play a crucial role in this transformation. Many young people in our town struggle with unemployment, pressure, confusion, and discouragement. Instead of allowing frustration to turn into destructive behavior, churches can offer skill-building opportunities such as, music training, computer courses, tailoring, small entrepreneurship guidance. Beyond skills, youth need mentorship in character, honesty, humility, patience, and responsibility. When young people see that their talents matter, they become hopeful citizens who contribute to society rather than withdraw from it.
Loving the vulnerable is another strong Christian witness. Establishing “Neighbor Care Groups” in each ward, youth or church volunteers visiting the elderly, helping widows, appreciating sweepers and daily workers can rebuild dignity. A town becomes healthier when its people are valued, seen, and cared for. Sometimes all someone needs is one visit, one cup of tea, one word of comfort.
Then there is the slogan “Nagaland for Christ.” We see it everywhere. Written on vehicles, gates, churches, signboards. But the truth is, writing something doesn’t mean living it. If Nagaland is truly for Christ, then honesty must replace corruption, humility must replace pride, and compassion must replace cruelty. Following Christ’s footsteps means serving quietly, doing right even when it’s hard, and living with integrity when no one is watching. Jesus washed His disciples’ feet. In our context, maybe washing feet looks like refusing bribes, helping a neighbour without expecting anything back, or speaking gently in conflict.
A real Christian civic revival, not a loud one but a consistent one could reshape Nagaland. When churches, women’s groups, youth teams, and ordinary families work together cleaning streets, supporting the poor, mentoring students, encouraging good governance, the Gospel becomes visible without needing to be spoken loudly.
Christian citizenship is not a grand philosophy. It’s a daily practice of caring for the environment, respecting people, speaking truthfully, helping the weak, acting fairly. And Mokokchung, with its deep spiritual heartbeat, has the potential to shine even brighter if faith steps outside the church and onto the streets. Worship must continue beyond hymns and sermons, it must appear in how we live, clean, speak, and serve.
If we walk in the footprints of Christ, even imperfectly but honestly Mokokchung will not only become cleaner or more disciplined. It will become hopeful. A place where people can literally see Christ reflected in the way we treat our land and our neighbor. And when that happens, our town will not just be beautiful in the morning light, it will be beautiful in spirit.
Winner of the Chalie Kevichusa Essay Award 2025 (Youth Category)
