In an age of fragmented narratives and whispered doubts, the simple virtue of telling the truth stands as the basis of any functioning society. Its importance cannot be overstated, nor can the consequences of its neglect be ignored. To be a truth-telling person is to be a pillar of trust. It is the glue that binds relationships, the currency of credibility in business, and the foundation of justice in law. When a community is composed of individuals committed to honesty, agreements are honoured, conflicts are resolved with clarity, and collective progress is built on the solid ground of reality, not the shifting sands of deception.
Yet, the path of truth telling is often strewn with formidable challenges. Fear is a common gatekeeper, fear of reprisal, of social exclusion, of losing one’s standing or livelihood. There is also the challenge of complexity, where truths are not always single, bright stones but interwoven threads difficult to separate. Competing loyalties can pull conscience in opposite directions, and the temptation to soften a truth to spare a feeling is a daily human struggle. Furthermore, in a public sphere where misinformation can spread rapidly, the very nature of truth is sometimes contested, making the act of stating it an act of courage.
This leads to a vital question - can truth telling become a daily practice? The answer is a resounding yes, but it requires conscious cultivation. It begins in the small moments: giving honest feedback, admitting a mistake, refusing to engage in malicious gossip, and correcting oneself when in error. It is a discipline of the mind and character, choosing accuracy over convenience and integrity over short-term gain. Institutions, from families to schools to local government, must champion and model this practice, creating environments where honesty is rewarded and the safe expression of difficult truths is possible.
This reflection on truth brings to mind the rich cultural tapestry of the Naga people, often studied for their strong communal ethos. To label any society as universally, “truth telling” would be an oversimplification, as all human communities grapple with moral complexities. However, the traditional Naga societal structures placed a high significance on oral history, sworn testimony and communal negotiation based on witnessed accounts. Their revered institutions for conflict resolution relied heavily on the ability to ascertain truth through elaborate processes and oaths. This historical precedence demonstrates a societal architecture where truth was not merely a personal virtue but a necessary public commodity for survival and cohesion, offering a commanding model for contemplation.
For the Naga community, the lesson is clear. The commitment to truth is not a relic of the past but an urgent necessity for the future. It is the essential tool for diagnosing our problems accurately, for holding leadership accountable, and for building genuine understanding among neighbours. In every place, there is a need to recommit to this foundational principle, in homes, marketplaces and public forums. For those who are part of the Naga society, it is a call to champion the truthful word, support those who speak it with good intent, and together foster a society where the beacon of honesty is not extinguished by the winds of fear or expediency. The shared progress of the people depends on it.
