By Roney Lyndem
In Meghalaya, what was once a distant concern, drug and substance abuse has metastasized into a full-blown epidemic unravelling at the very fabric of our fragile society. As of August 2024, a staggering statistic revealed in the state assembly by Social Welfare Minister Paul Lyngdoh has put the crisis into stark relief: there are now an estimated 3,00,000 drug users in Meghalaya (https://highlandpost.com/meghalaya-drug-users-now-number-whopping-3-lakh/ )
This is not a mere increase; it is a catastrophic surge from the 200,000 reported just a year prior and an almost unbelievable explosion from the 17,833 users identified in a study conducted by NEIDAC in 2009.
In response to the cause of Fighting the Drug and Substance abuse crisis which has been spiralling out of control for decades, the Central and State governments launched many initiatives, came up with many new policies and a flurry of data-gathering exercises through their programs to supposedly Fight this menace of Drugs and Substance Abuse.
However, their approach reveals a fundamental and dangerous misunderstanding of the crisis. The relentless push for quantifiable metrics, the preference for “quick-fix” band-aid solutions, and the persistent failure to address the systemic roots of the problem are creating an illusion of action.
This focus on what can be counted, rather than what truly counts, is not only failing to scratch the surface level problems but is actively making the situation worse, paving the way for mediocre action for a situation that has already laid down multiple roots.
Even in 2025, Government band aid solution is to continue to ignore Real professionals, understand the difference in professions and the roles and responsibilities they play.
India’s struggle with addiction is deeply entangled with the misguided policies emanating from New Delhi. The Central Government, in its ambition to project an image of a global superpower, has often treated its internal afflictions as secondary concerns. This is starkly evident in its handling of mental health and in this context, the issue of substance abuse.
On one hand, it controls the legal supply of substances like alcohol and tobacco, and on the other, its failure to secure its borders has allowed the Golden Triangle’s narco-trafficking routes to flourish, turning the Northeast into a primary conduit for illicit drugs. The Indo-Myanmar and Indo-Bangladesh borders have become porous gateways, and the government’s inability to implement a robust, coordinated security strategy has resulted in an unchecked flood of heroin and other narcotics into states like Meghalaya. This creates a schizophrenic policy environment where one arm of the government appears to fight addiction while the other, through negligence, ensures a steady supply of ammunition to the enemy.
This contradiction is most glaringly exposed in the funding mechanisms of the Ministry of Social Justice and Empowerment (MSJE). Through its flagship National Action Plan for Drug Demand Reduction (NAPDDR), the ministry allocates funds to states and NGOs for rehabilitation and prevention. However, the system is engineered to prioritize data over actual real impact and minimum funding with expectations of maximum data collection.
Funding from the Central Government is often tied to the submission of reports filled with easily measurable but ultimately superficial metrics: the number of awareness camps conducted, pamphlets distributed, or individuals “reached.” This forces those on the ground level to frantically race to generate numbers, to “tick the boxes”, and ignore real problems for superficial ones.
In Mental Health Psychological Interventions, the quality of care, the complexity of psychological healing, and the long, arduous journey of recovery cannot be neatly captured in a spreadsheet that is made for One and meant for all. Yet, this is precisely what the system demands.
The result is thus that the fight against substance abuse is filled with mediocre programs and interventions that fulfil bureaucratic requirements but fail the individuals they are meant to help, provide the necessary support, and ensure quality psychological intervention.
As such, this “data trap” policy of the Government devalues the nuanced work of trained professionals and encourages a culture of faking data just to meet deadlines, rushed policy making to satisfy public opinion and incorporation of unrealistic approach of putting non-professionals in the field where trained personnel are required ignoring basic core ethical values that is required of a professional approach to the situation.
Furthermore, the financial support provided by the Government through funding is often grossly inadequate. In a shocking revelation, it was noted that for 2021-22, Meghalaya received a paltry Rs 1.3 lakh under the NAPDDR. In stark contrast, a state like Manipur, also grappling with a severe crisis, received over Rs 7 crore. This disparity is indefensible. It forces underfunded organizations in Meghalaya to cut corners, unable to hire qualified psychologists, therapists, and social workers or provide the minimum standards of care necessary for effective rehabilitation.
The question thus arises, how can dedicated professionals be expected to combat a raging epidemic with such meagre resources and without the assurance of a living wage and proper work conditions? Is this one of the reasons that Meghalaya is pushing trained Teachers to also conduct counselling as trained Counsellors ignoring the conflict of interest of the two professions?
The Central and State Government approach is not just ineffective; it is a betrayal of the frontline workers who have for decades dedicated their life to this unrewarding work and the vulnerable populations who need the help to survive.
Meghalaya government response to the escalating crisis is to launch the Drug Reduction Elimination & Action Mission (DREAM) in early 2023. On paper, it is a comprehensive, multi-pronged strategy. It speaks of social mobilization, enabling support systems, strengthening law enforcement, and fostering community partnerships.
However, a closer examination of the DREAM reveals that while well-intentioned, it is built upon the same flawed, data-driven foundation as the central schemes, and is riddled with “quick-fix” solutions that are unlikely to yield sustainable results.
The plan to train over 100 teachers to counsel students from Classes II to V is a prime example. While early intervention is crucial, this initiative risks becoming tokenistic. Are these teachers being given the deep, specialized training required to handle complex trauma and psychological issues? Is there a robust, ongoing support system of professional psychologists to back them up? Or are they simply being burdened with an additional responsibility without the requisite tools, turning a complex mental health intervention into another box-ticking exercise for a government report?
Similarly, the policy’s reliance on a handful of institutional collaborations and NGOs, while necessary, is insufficient to address a crisis affecting 3,00,000 people. With only a few recognized de-addiction centers ( which have high charges for treatment), the state lacks the infrastructure for a community-based, decentralized approach. Where are the youth-friendly, low-cost centers in rural areas? What about specialized care for women, whose struggles with addiction is often hidden and stigmatized?
The current model creates a bottleneck, leaving the vast majority of users without access to help and care. The government’s focus remains squarely on demand reduction, but this is a losing battle when the supply chain is thriving. The state’s authorities seem unable, or perhaps unwilling, to crack down on the rampant, open sale of substances in the shops of its town. The claim that traffickers can easily slip across international borders to supply our streets rings hollow when shopping malls in Shillong have more stringent security checks. The DREAM policy, for all its ambitious goals, will remain just a dream if the floodgates of supply are not sealed. This requires a far more serious thought and effort to place the individual at the center of policy making and coordinated efforts to stop sale of all addictive substances in our state.
The danger of this current approach to this issue is that it creates an illusion of progress while allowing the underlying causes of the addiction crisis to fester. This obsession with data and band-aid solutions will only ensures that the situation will only get worse in the long run – First, it systemically devalues professional expertise. The government’s failure to differentiate between the roles of a peer educator, a social worker, a psychologist, and a psychiatrist leads to a misallocation of human resources. Long-term recovery requires intensive psychotherapy and clinical intervention, not just awareness talks. By focusing on easily countable activities, the government sidelines the very experts whose skills are most needed. Second, it ignores the socio-economic despair that fuels addiction. A recent qualitative study revealed that many young users in Meghalaya are from backgrounds of low educational attainment and are employed in the precarious unorganized sector. They turn to drugs to cope with stress, family problems, and a lack of meaningful opportunities. The Meghalaya Youth Policy 2021 acknowledges these vulnerabilities, but the state has failed to create a robust ecosystem of employment and skill development that would give young people a reason to choose a different path. Without addressing these root causes—unemployment, poverty, and a failing education system—any anti-drug policy is merely treating the symptoms of a much deeper societal illness. Third, the lack of after-care and relapse prevention programs creates a revolving door of addiction. Discharging a user from a 30-day detox program back into the same environment of poverty and hopelessness, without a structured plan for reintegration, is a recipe for failure. True rehabilitation involves rebuilding a life—securing housing, finding employment, and mending family relationships. This requires long-term, sustained support, something the current model is not designed to provide.
The need of the hour is a radical paradigm shift. The governments at both the center and the state must move beyond their obsession with data and short-term results. They must be willing to make the difficult, long-term investments that are required to build a truly comprehensive and effective response. This means adequately funding a robust public health infrastructure with free, accessible, high-quality de-addiction and mental health services across every district. It means empowering and paying qualified professionals to do the difficult work of healing. It means a zero-tolerance, multi-agency crackdown on the drug trafficking networks that prey on the vulnerable. And most importantly, it means investing in the future of Meghalaya’s youth by creating genuine opportunities for education, employment, and a life of dignity.
Until then, the numbers will continue to climb, and each new statistic will represent another life lost, another family broken, and another piece of Meghalaya’s soul chipped away by a crisis that its own leaders are failing to comprehend, let alone conquer.
(The writer is an experienced Counsellor and a former De-addiction And Rehabilitation Center Coordinator and can be reached at roneymlyndem@gmail.com)
