Editor,
The air is thick with accusations, the banners of protest are raised, and yet, the most crucial piece of this spectacle is missing—evidence! How has Meghalaya come to this? Have we now abandoned fairness and due process in favor of baseless outrage? Have we become a society that thrives on whispers and assumptions instead of truth and justice?
The relentless attacks on Prabha Shankar Shukla, Vice Chancellor of North-Eastern Hill University (NEHU), are nothing short of a witch-hunt. He is being painted as the villain of an elaborate saga, yet the script is missing its most important element—a proven crime. NGOs and self-proclaimed activists have set the stage for his downfall, but I ask: where is the proof? Allegations of irregularities in appointments and job scams have been thrown around like confetti at a festival, yet no substantial evidence has emerged. If there are indeed skeletons in his closet, bring them into the light! If there has been wrongdoing, let the law take its course! But to crucify a man based on mere speculation? That is neither justice nor righteousness—it is mob mentality.
Are we truly so blind to the bigger picture? The Vice Chancellor is not just a bureaucrat—he is an academic, a leader, and a man of vast experience. Has he made decisions that not everyone agrees with? Of course! But does that mean he must be driven out with pitchforks? This is not the Middle Ages! If a leader falters, he should be held accountable by legal mechanisms, not by mobs demanding his resignation based on hearsay.
And here’s the real irony—some of the same voices crying out against him today would be silent if they were in his favor. This isn’t about justice; this is about power. The hunger for influence has blinded some to reason, and in their quest to control, they have turned a university into a battlefield. But shouldn’t our energy be focused on something far more pressing? Our state struggles with unemployment, poverty, lack of infrastructure, and declining educational standards, yet instead of addressing these, we are being dragged into a drama orchestrated by those who benefit from chaos.
To my fellow citizens, I ask: What are we teaching our children? That justice is determined by who shouts the loudest? That respect and integrity can be trampled in favor of political gains? That experience and wisdom hold no value against the fury of the masses? If this is the precedent we set, we are paving the way for disaster.
I also wish to acknowledge something important—despite the controversies surrounding him, the Vice Chancellor has also made some commendable decisions. The appointment of a Pro Vice Chancellor at Tura Campus is just one example. Was it necessary? Absolutely. Does that make him a perfect leader? No. But should a few unpopular decisions overshadow every effort he has made? Again, no.
It is time to step back and reflect. Do we want Meghalaya to be known for chaos and endless protests, or do we want to be remembered as a people who uphold justice, wisdom, and fairness? The law exists for a reason. If the Vice Chancellor has committed a crime, let the legal system decide his fate. But if we allow rumor-mongering and baseless accusations to dictate our actions, we are no better than the barbarians we claim to condemn.
I urge my colleagues, my fellow citizens, and the civil society of Meghalaya—focus on what truly matters. Let us build, not destroy. Let us educate, not mislead. Let us be remembered for our progress, not for our recklessness. The time for reason is now. Let us choose wisely.
Sengwat A Sangma
Author and Advisor to civil society groups
