I joined the national movement in my early twenties for the liberation of Nagaland. For many years, we fought hard in the jungles, the villages, the towns, and the cities as our ancestors before us had done. We even went to far off foreign lands to get help and for our rights to be heard. Our people suffered and sacrificed immensely. Through the good times of one unified voice, to the bad times of divisions we struggled on. Our enemies the Indian government was very powerful and cunning they did every thing in their power to destroy our cause. They poured all of their military might into our lands and when this did not help, they manipulated some of our leaders in order to weaken our cause. They even brainwashed some of our brightest into believing that there was nothing for us beyond India. Internal threats were far worse because of greed and pride amongst some of our leaders. Their ability to compromise for individual profit led to many set backs. However, the movement endured nevertheless because it was the truth. The whole might of neither the Indian State nor the insidious elements within could ever really destroy the movement for the rightful place for the Nagas in the world. So on and on it marched on weak at times, stronger at other times. Nevertheless, always stubbornly sure as only Nagas can be towards the goal promised to our ancestors by God.
Then one day events beyond our control engulfed India. Internal contradictions, religious divides, economic disparities to wide to bridge and all insidious factors in an unequal society led to one big conflagration that destroyed its basis for existence as a Nation in its present form. The events in the heartland of India did not affect us too much and the Nagas came out relatively unscathed ready to build our new nation out of the ashes of the old India Nagas were at last free as God intended. It has been ten years since those tumultuous times and I am now weak, filled with the aches and pains gifted to me by the years of injuries and tortures inflicted upon me by our bygone rulers. Getting up from my bed, I get ready to go to my office at the presidential house where I work as a janitor. Even with my freedom fighters pension, the present trend of high inflation has forced me to take up this job. Lucky for me some old comrades working in the secretarial division helped me out and got me this job.
As I walk through the same old streets, I have gone many times before I feel nothing much has changed. We are still not able to live to our fullest expectations because as before we Nagas though having a separate country still do not direct our own destinies. With this thought in my mind, I get to the Presidential house. Upon entering, it as I am getting into my uniform my supervisor tells me to clean up the Presidents office before he arrives. After making sure, I have done my job thoroughly and cleaned it up to the satisfaction of the way the President likes it I leave.
In the corridor, I meet the President and his entourage. As is routine he greets me very informally and asks me about my family. To which I reply “good morning President Hassan every thing is fine and my family is surviving in these tough economic times"…
Temjen, Dimapur
