A besieged city

For any society aspiring to economic progress, the essentials are non-negotiable-roads, water, power, efficient waste disposal, arterial drainage and robust connectivity. Yet across much of India’s Northeast, these foundational elements remain afterthoughts. Nowhere is this more starkly evident than in Dimapur, a city whose infrastructure story reads less like development and more like a chronicle of neglect, mismanagement and squandered potential. For nearly three decades, Nagaland Post has consistently highlighted the transformative impact that central and public sector institutions can have-creating employment, energising local economies and anchoring long-term growth. Dimapur has witnessed the promise of such institutions, only to see them slip away. The State Bank of India’s journey encapsulates this tragedy. After its Local Regional Office was shifted from Shillong to Dimapur in 1987 and upgraded to a Zonal Office under a Deputy General Manager in 1989, it seemed a turning point. By 2008, inexplicably, that office was relocated to Jorhat. Even the ONGC, which set up its operational office in Dimapur during the nineties, shut down merely on account of an incident where an individual threatened the office head. Contrast this with the blowing up of oil pipelines and assault on ONGC employees by militants in Assam, where operations continue undeterred. Other institutions met similar fates. A 500-bed Referral Hospital-cum-Medical College, approved in 1984 with a projected completion by 1993, saw the estimated cost multiply nearly sixfold by 1996—with no hospital in sight. The proposal to elevate the School of Agricultural Sciences at Medziphema into a full-fledged Agriculture University, spread over 2,000 acres, was scuttled in the early nineties after isolated incidents were deemed sufficient grounds to shift the university to Manipur. These were not mere bureaucratic delays; they were decisions that robbed Nagaland of critical assets in healthcare and higher education. Infrastructure that should have been an asset has instead become a symbol of inertia. Dimapur’s railway station, established in 1903 and the second-highest revenue earner for the Northeast Frontier Railway, handles around 8,000 passengers daily. Yet out of 41 trains plying the route, not a single one originates here. In 2023, the station was selected for a ₹283 crore redevelopment under a flagship central scheme, but encroachment has placed the project in limbo. The airport, too, has suffered decades of neglect, with authorities waking up only belatedly to address encroachments that should never have been allowed. The contrast with Diphu is telling. There, a flyover, road projects, a greenfield airport, a cancer hospital and new educational institutions are taking shape. Dimapur, meanwhile, is haemorrhaging opportunity. But the rot goes deeper than stalled projects. What truly imperils Dimapur’s future is the daily reality of extortion, syndicates, unions and armed groups each asserting their “legitimate right” to levy collections, driving business pioneers and entrepreneurs to relocate to Khatkhati, Diphu or Guwahati. When those who create wealth and employment are forced to flee, a city does not simply stagnate; it implodes. Dimapur’s problem is not merely missed opportunities-it is monumental neglect compounded by a passive enforcement that discourage investment. If the city is to be saved from becoming a cautionary tale, there must be decisive action by reclaiming encroached infrastructure, re-establishing lost institutions and, above all, restoring the confidence of those who wish to build. A society that dreams of economic progress cannot afford to let its most vital city be strangled by forces inimical to progress.