Rooted in Land, Knowledge, and Equity
Amba Jamir
Independent Policy and Development Strategist
The proliferation of capacity-building and skill-development initiatives across India signals a promising commitment to empowering the youth. In Northeast India’s mountain communities—where cultural diversity and ecological richness converge—these programs hold immense potential to shape a resilient future. Yet, a critical disconnect persists: a promise that often slips between the cup and the lips, particularly when top-down models ignore the region’s foundational strengths. Current initiatives, though well-intentioned, continue to push youth toward an urban-centric, industrial model of development that risks eroding Indigenous knowledge, local economies, and community sovereignty.
Skill-development programs are predominantly designed to prepare young people for the competitive urban market. While cities like Guwahati, Dimapur, and Shillong—and even distant metros—act as magnets drawing youth in search of employment, this migration is not merely physical. It often detaches them from land-based livelihoods, community support systems, and inherited knowledge. As rural areas are unable to offer comparable opportunities, young people understandably seek alternatives. But why must those alternatives come at the cost of their identity, agency, and relationship with the land?
Why can we not also envision and build skill sets and livelihood value chains rooted in jhum cultivation, local food systems, horticulture, and artisanal crafts like handloom and handicrafts? These are not peripheral activities; they are embedded with deep ecological knowledge, cultural meaning, and economic value. Yet, they are seldom acknowledged by planners or incorporated into skill-development frameworks.
This urban bias reflects an industrial paradigm of development that prioritizes manufacturing, markets, and profit over sustainability and cultural rootedness. If youth abandon their lands for urban jobs, who will cultivate the region’s diverse crops, preserve its food heritage, ensure local food security or profit from local resources? The exodus from rural areas leaves land vulnerable to exploitation by interests that prioritize extraction over regeneration, profit over well-being. It reduces people to mere numbers in a global economic game, stripped of meaning and memory.
Another glaring oversight in current policy frameworks is the failure to harness the region’s Indigenous knowledge systems and traditional skills—particularly those held by women. Women are the backbone of local economies, excelling in handloom weaving, seed saving, agro-biodiversity conservation, and resource management. Their creations are not just crafts; they are repositories of cultural narrative and ecological wisdom. They are custodians of resilient land-use systems, balancing food production with forest regeneration. Yet, these contributions remain undervalued in formal skill-building initiatives.
Agriculture and land-based activities are central to the economies and identities of Northeast India. However, few programs aim to modernize traditional agriculture or integrate Indigenous practices with new innovations. Instead, skill-development schemes often shepherd youth into sectors disconnected from their lived experience, leaving land-based economies under-supported and undervalued.
A critical barrier for many aspiring rural entrepreneurs is the lack of access to technology, finance, and infrastructure. Many young people return from training programs with dreams of launching handloom ventures, eco-tourism initiatives, or agribusiness enterprises. Yet, they encounter limited access to credit, poor logistics, and scarce mentorship. Without equitable technology transfer and a nurturing entrepreneurial ecosystem, such aspirations remain unfulfilled.
To chart a transformative path, skill-development initiatives in Northeast India must be reimagined as place-based, inclusive, and equitable. Existing programs have value, but a parallel set of investments must prioritize rural youth and strengthen local economies.
First, programs should center Indigenous knowledge systems and traditional skills, aligning training with locally available resources. For instance, handloom weaving programs can integrate modern design and e-commerce training to help women scale their enterprises while preserving cultural authenticity. Similarly, handicraft training can combine traditional techniques with technological innovation to reduce waste, drudgery, and enhance value addition.
Second, the transfer of appropriate, affordable, and context-specific technologies must be a cornerstone of rural skill development. Development agencies and governments should facilitate access to tools and innovations that allow rural youth to compete in modern markets while staying rooted in their communities.
Third, strong support systems must be established to help translate skills into sustainable livelihoods. These include microfinance options, mentoring networks, and market linkages. The success of Assam’s Eri silk industry, led by women’s cooperatives, offers a compelling model that aligns traditional skills with technology and global markets.
Fourth, startup ecosystems must be rooted in fairness and community participation. Community consultation should be mandatory, and profits from initiatives—such as bamboo cultivation, herbal products, or eco-tourism—must be equitably shared with local people. Such approaches build trust and ensure long-term sustainability.
Finally, the narrative around rural development must shift. Rural livelihoods should be celebrated as dignified, skilled, and future-facing. Skill-development programs should inspire pride in traditional knowledge and land-based occupations, positioning youth as stewards of their heritage rather than mere labour in a distant industrial economy. Involving youth clubs, women’s collectives, and customary institutions in the design and delivery of programs will ensure they resonate with community aspirations.
The mountain communities of India’s Northeast stand at a pivotal juncture. Continuing with a purely urban-industrial model of skill development risks eroding their strengths and disempowering the next generation. What is needed is a vision rooted in land, equity, and cultural wisdom. A reimagined approach to skill development—anchored in local knowledge, supported by appropriate technology, and sustained by community agency—can transform the region from a labour-exporting periphery into a vibrant hub of sustainable livelihoods and cultural resilience.
The question is not whether we can afford to invest in such a vision, but whether we can afford not to.
