Aheli Moitra
Water is precious; we must always save water.
The child next door, in class 2 now, reads this out too loud every morning. Yet, every day, he forgets to turn the tap off. His mother replicates the behaviour. On the one hand she teaches him to rote the line above; on the other, the bucket runs lose.
Leaking taps remain so—not unlike governance and leadership in Nagaland.
Perhaps they think tap water is a direct off shoot of ever flowing rivers. It is rare to find water consciousness among people who crop from riverine cultures. If you look at a map of rivers and streams of Nagaland, it appears unanimously streaked with blue. Not so much the Horn of Africa, Nagaland has been unable to meet its population’s water demands nonetheless.
Reports suggest dwindling of water in the Himalayan River Basins in China, Nepal, India and Bangladesh in the next 20 years, home to 20% of the world’s population. With the Yangtze and Brahmaputra set to lose out on 7% to 14% of their annual flow due to depletion of Himalayan glaciers, Bangladesh is set to face the impact of the same in the next 20 years. If this happens, population from Bangladesh will continue to migrate and stress the resources of either better economic diversity or natural. A different data set from Nagaland suggests that rainfall in the period of 2020-2050 will increase at an average rate of 15%, more in the Southern districts of Nagaland than the Northern. Alas, drought conditions will also exacerbate at the rate of 20-50% during the given period. Wokha is predicted to be most vulnerable, while Phek the least.
As climate change affects this region, heavier rains will mean that traditional systems of water management might not be enough to hold. More rains mean frequent soil erosion, more landslides and erratic meandering of rivers. It also means rising toxicity in water and increase in temperature. The degraded soil quality will leave it incapacitated to hold the springs in the forests which form the source of streams and rivers here. In rural areas, this could affect livelihood and connectivity. In the water scarce urban hubs, all of this could mean anything from having to survive on Coke to facing disease from non potable water and a sanitation nightmare.
These are not just security threats signifying future wars. It is a signal to start changing water habits wherever we are; to take active part in preservation. More than this, these statistics are a signal to start pressurizing the government to embark on better water management systems that harness and process excess water. That coupled with effective distribution systems could change the scenario not just through the dry October-April season in many districts but also save ground water (already too low here) depletion.
For now, the state, through uncollaborated efforts of various departments, has been trying to provide safe drinking water, sustain agriculture, etc. through funds and schemes from the state budget, the centre, the North East Council and through loans. There is a repeated view that the state cannot easily access water recharge zones (springs) because people hold land and resources. Apparently, this makes scientific maintenance and their development for “larger good” difficult. Why? If communitisation is such a fabulous idea, it should work here too. It doesn’t because the government exploits it by shedding responsibility.
Water, being a source of life and quarrels over it, needs much more time, patience and investment with the local communities. In Nagaland, some sort of vision exists, as does a plan coupled with some understanding of what the future holds. The lack of political will to benefit the people, then, is an enormous hindrance towards implementation. Before the scarcity turns into a security issue, hold the government under the tap.
