Each academic convocation in Nagaland increasingly resembles a ceremonial farewell. As graduates receive their credentials, an observable migratory pattern ensues towards metropolitan cities such as Delhi, Bangalore, Pune or destinations abroad. This phenomenon has come to symbolize a dual narrative: one of aspiration and another of quiet disillusionment. I have experienced this personally. During my years in Chennai pursuing doctoral studies, I encountered a very different ecosystem- one where educational institutions, professional spaces and civic infrastructure functioned in coordinated rhythm. Systems were in place. Innovation was encouraged. Growth was possible. The environment empowered individuals to pursue their goals with clarity and confidence. That contrast stayed with me. I wondered why should a place like Nagaland with its deep cultural richness and untapped human potential struggle to offer its youth the same sense of possibility? This quiet but steady exodus of young people is more than a demographic trend. It reflects a deeper emotional and civic distancing. And unless addressed, it may redefine Nagaland’s future in ways we are not yet prepared for.
Structural determinants of youth out-migration
Nagaland’s job market offers few long-term opportunities. Government jobs remain the most visible form of employment but they are limited and highly competitive. The private sector is underdeveloped and there is minimal institutional support for start-ups, freelancers or creative professionals. Young people with ideas often struggle to find mentorship, investment or even a network of peers. Entrepreneurship is still seen by many as risky and creative careers whether in media, design, technology or the arts lack platforms and pathways. Merit is one of the most valued ideals for young minds. Unfortunately, many feel it is also one of the hardest to rely on. Reports of inconsistent recruitment, lack of transparency and perceived favoritism can discourage even the most capable individuals. The issue is not only the number of opportunities but the perceived fairness of how those opportunities are distributed. When young people begin to feel that effort and qualification do not lead to meaningful outcomes, they naturally begin to look elsewhere. Some youth also feel limited by cultural expectations or social rigidity. Those who pursue unconventional interests or carry views that differ from prevailing norms may struggle to find acceptance or encouragement. This is not a critique, it’s a quiet reality experienced by many. In such cases, migration is not a rejection of identity. It is a search for breathing space.
Urban magnetism and the aspirational pull of metropolitan spaces
In many Indian metros and abroad, professional growth is more closely linked to performance than to personal connections. This kind of environment appeals to those who want to test their skills and build careers based on competence. Urban centers offer access to new technologies, professional communities, training opportunities and networks. From coding boot camps to art residencies, from corporate internships to social innovation labs- cities allow young people to see and do more. In larger cities, young people often find space to explore their identity without the weight of constant observation. It is not that they want to sever ties with their community, it is that they want to return with something meaningful to offer on their own terms.
The emotional toll and civic consequences
Many who leave Nagaland face an identity crossroads. In the city, they are marked by their origin; back home, they are marked by their changes. Some feel “too local” to belong elsewhere, yet “too different” to fully reintegrate. This emotional limbo often leads to silence, not disinterest. The absence of youth is felt in every corner of society. Leadership spaces grow older without renewal. Community efforts continue but with less energy and fewer fresh ideas. It is not a matter of disinterest, it’s that many spaces have failed to adapt in ways that genuinely welcome and empower the next generation.
Implications for the socioeconomic fabric of Nagaland
Without the active participation of young people, future leadership pipelines grow weak. Talented minds who could shape education, governance, business and public service are finding fulfillment elsewhere. This is not a criticism of those who leave but it is a reminder of what we are at risk of losing. Remittances from those working outside the state now support many families. While this brings economic relief, it does not replace the need for sustainable development. Without internal growth, we risk becoming dependent rather than dynamic.
Strategic recommendations
Nagaland must invest in the infrastructure that supports ambition. Youth-led enterprises, creative industries, remote work platforms and digital literacy programs are no longer optional yet they are essential. We must create space for new economies. Public trust is built on fairness. Recruitment processes, especially in government, must be transparent, competitive and free from undue influence. Young people must feel that Nagaland believes in their potential not just in words but in process. Youth involvement must go beyond symbolic inclusion. Whether in churches, village councils or student bodies, young people should be part of planning, budgeting and vision-setting. Their ideas may be new but they are rooted in care for their community. Professionals working outside the state are not outsiders. They are part of Nagaland’s extended strength. Structured mentorship, return-to-invest platforms and local collaboration can turn brain drain into brain circulation.
Conclusion
Leaving Nagaland should not be the only path to possibility. Nor should returning be a surrender. Migration is not the enemy. Exposure, education and travel can all enrich us. But when departure becomes a necessity rather than a choice, we must ask: what do we need to rebuild at home?
To the State: Invest not just in slogans but in structural reform that nurtures youth capacity.
To Community Leader: Create space not just for agreement but for ideas.
To the Church: The Church must invest in the youth and disciple them so they don’t just inherit the Church but lead it with conviction and courage.
To the Youth: Your voice still matters. Your skills, your values and your vision have a place here.
Nagaland must not become a land known only for what it once was. It must become a place where young people return not because they are told to but because they believe something can still be built.
Migration isn’t the enemy. Apathy is.
Dr. Bendangliba Andrew
Writer & Freelance Worker in Christian Ministry
Mokokchung, Nagaland
Tuesday, August 26, 2025