Editor,
While it is true that the Voice of the People Party (VPP) currently holds a minority position in the legislature with just four representatives, Ardent Miller Basaiawmoit’s recent remarks reflect more than just political bravado — they highlight a growing public sentiment of frustration over governance in Meghalaya.
The VPP leader’s criticism of the NPP-led MDA 2.0 government touches on a recurring issue — the tendency of ruling coalitions to deflect accountability and rely on external advice while sidelining constructive inputs from the Opposition. It is fair to question why a Government that has invested heavily in advisors still struggles to address pressing issues effectively. However, calling for the ruling alliance to “step aside” without offering a concrete alternative or road-map may come across as more aspirational than practical.
It is also worth noting that opposition parties, regardless of their size, play a critical role in holding the government accountable and ensuring transparency. The VPP’s assertion that its past suggestions have been ignored by the Government raises concerns about the inclusiveness of decision-making processes and the health of democratic discourse in the state.
That said, if the VPP aims to be seen as a credible alternative, it must move beyond critique and present clear, actionable policies that demonstrate not only an understanding of the state’s challenges but also a vision for addressing them. Public confidence is built not just on bold statements, but on consistent engagement, policy clarity, and the ability to inspire trust among citizens.
In a democracy, dissent and debate are essential. But so is responsibility. If the VPP is serious about taking on a greater role in governance, it must now match its rhetoric with readiness — and that includes preparing itself for the rigours of leadership, not just the privileges of opposition.
Yours etc.,
Marbiang Rymbai
Via email
Public have right & responsibility to understand
Editor,
On July 9, electricity employees and engineers across the country, including in Meghalaya, observed a symbolic token strike. The protest, coordinated under the banner of the National Coordination Committee of Electricity Employees and Engineers (NCCOEEE), sought to highlight the pressing concerns surrounding the privatisation of power distribution.
Across various offices and field units in Meghalaya, officers and staff of the MeECL were seen wearing black badges and participating in lunch-hour demonstrations, raising slogans not in defiance, but in a spirit of alarmed duty and solidarity. It was not a strike in the disruptive sense, but a quiet and firm signal – meant to stir awareness among the public and urge our leaders to pause and reflect.
While the immediate spark for this protest lies in the ongoing privatisation of Uttar Pradesh’s DISCOMs, the implications stretch far beyond. Here in Meghalaya, too, we must ask ourselves: Are we truly prepared for the changes that might be creeping in silently?
As an ordinary citizen, I write not to take sides, but to highlight what is often missing in moments like this: public understanding.
We, the people – as bill-payers, rural users, students, farmers, and town residents – are directly impacted by what happens in the power sector. Yet, many of us remain unaware of the quiet but significant shifts underway. We rarely ask: Who manages our electricity system? What happens if it is handed over to private hands? Will rural access, affordability, and transparency still be guaranteed?
It is easy to overlook these questions – until the day the tariff rises sharply, or a village remains in the dark longer than it used to, or the local lineman who knew your transformer personally is replaced by a distant outsourced contractor.
Let us be clear – reform is not the enemy. Improvement is always welcome. But reform without listening to the people who run the system, without preparing the infrastructure, and without informing the public is a dangerous shortcut.
Across India, there are mixed stories. Delhi saw some improvement, but only with heavy government support and strict oversight. Odisha saw early failure and public suffering before revising course. Can Meghalaya afford such risks – and such silence?
Behind every power line restored after a thunderstorm, every meter box checked, and every pole repaired, there is an MeECL employee – often working in difficult terrain, with modest pay and limited resources. These are not faceless bureaucrats. They are engineers, linemen, clerks, meter readers – many of whom are from our own villages and towns, serving with commitment.
The July 9 protest was not a shutdown. It was a wake-up call. A respectful but urgent plea: include the workers, inform the public, and plan with care.
As citizens, we owe it to ourselves and to those who have kept our lights on quietly and tirelessly – to educate ourselves, ask the necessary questions, and ensure that changes in this essential service are guided by vision and responsibility, not by haste or silence.
Electricity powers everything. Decisions about it must never be left in the dark.
Yours etc.,
Name withheld on request
Via email
Meghalaya’s Poise amid Rumour and Reputation
Editor,
In mid‑July 2025, an unverified social media claim of human sacrifice in a remote Meghalaya village sparked widespread speculation. The story, lacking credible evidence or official corroboration, threatened to inflame superstition and suspicion. Yet rather than spiral into panic, the situation was met with clarity, calm, and commonsense—revealing a community capable of navigating misinformation with measured resolve.
This episode echoes an earlier case involving Sonam Raghuvanshi, accused in the 2025 murder of her husband in Sohra. Following allegations and media attention, Meghalaya’s Confederation of Meghalaya Social Organisations (CoMSO) publicly rebuked Sonam’s family, stating their initial comments had “defamed the people of Meghalaya and tarnished the state’s image as a tourist destination” . The group demanded a formal apology, emphasizing that while personal tragedies deserve empathy, imputations must not malign entire communities without proof.
That earlier response from CoMSO was not about stifling grief—it was a defence of civic dignity. They commended the swift police investigation, successful within five days, and underlined that the crime was personal, not communal. The same principle applies today: serious allegations demand serious evidence, not sensationalism.
In both cases—whether regarding ritual crime or high-profile murder—the lesson is the same: information must be verified before it is shared. Tribal traditions, indigenous practices, and local culture deserve respect—not reckless association with unsubstantiated wrongdoing.
If there is substance behind any claim, it must be revealed through proper investigation and judicial process, not conjecture or hearsay. Meanwhile, the media and public must uphold the standards of responsible reportage and active discernment. Societal resilience lies not in silence, but in fact‑based dialogue
Yours etc.,
Jairaj Chhetry
Tura