Imlisanen Jamir
Twenty years is a long time to wait. For anything. But in Nagaland, where the Urban Local Bodies (ULBs) elections have just wrapped up after a two-decade hiatus, the real work is only beginning. On July 11, the state Cabinet will huddle together to hash out work plans for these newly elected bodies. At a reception for the NDPP councillors, Chief Minister Neiphiu Rio hinted at what’s to come, and it’s hard not to wonder—what took so long?
In a place where every decision seems to marinate in endless bureaucratic red tape, one would think that the time spent waiting for these elections would have been used to prepare meticulous, ready-to-roll-out plans. But here we are, still waiting for discussions. Maybe the hiatus created complexities that needed the election dust to settle first, but it still feels like someone’s been dragging their feet.
Rio spoke of “work plans,” but what does that even mean in a practical sense? Are we talking about tackling specific issues ward by ward, or are we looking at sweeping projects that impact all wards? It’s a question worth pondering. Ward-specific projects should, in theory, be more manageable. Each councillor has a smaller pool of constituents to satisfy. Issues like drainage systems and local infrastructure—hot topics during the elections—are not isolated problems. They ripple out, affecting neighboring wards too. So, collaboration could lead to significant, rapid improvements.
But let's be real for a moment. Government projects often get caught in a bureaucratic quagmire, turning into long, drawn-out affairs. It’s the kind of thing that leaves you staring at unfinished work, wondering if it will ever see the light of day. One hopes, perhaps naively, that the ULBs can break this mold. With smaller constituencies, there should be a better chance for quicker, more visible action.
Then there’s the matter of the proposed anti-defection law for the ULBs. On the surface, it’s a smart move. Politicians flip-flopping like fish out of water destabilizes governance. Strengthening these laws makes sense, not just locally but at all levels of government. But let’s not kid ourselves. There’s a sneaking suspicion that this could be a ploy to keep ruling party members in line, quashing any chance for the opposition to gain strength. It’s a murky business, but in politics, nothing is ever straightforward.
Consensus and individual initiative among councillors will be crucial. Balancing the needs of their own wards with the broader development of the municipality is no easy task. And maybe, just maybe, upgrading the ULB cell to a full-fledged Directorate isn’t such a bad idea. Yes, more bureaucracy is the last thing anyone wants. It’s like adding more tentacles to an already unwieldy octopus. But with significant funds expected from both the state and central governments, a Directorate might ensure these resources are used wisely and efficiently.
In the end, we’re left with a flicker of optimism. Maybe this time, things will be different. Perhaps the work plans will be swiftly devised and effectively implemented. It’s a hope tinged with a bit of naive positivity, but one we cling to nonetheless. After all, change often begins with a simple, optimistic belief. Here’s to hoping Nagaland’s ULBs can defy the odds and set a new standard for local governance. Maybe, just maybe, we’ll see the kind of progress that’s been a long time coming.
Comments can be sent to imlisanenjamir@gmail.com
