Editor,
Welcome to Tura, where the 6th Schedule promises autonomy and the municipal budget promises… a yearly wish-list with better column spacing. The MDC elections are looming, and once again the big quarrel is over who should collect Household Tax (HH Tax) or property tax—GHADC, the Tura Municipal Board (TMB), or some hybrid arrangement. The real question, however, isn’t about labels on paper but what actually lands in the pockets of the people who pay.
Let’s be blunt. The 6th Schedule sets up autonomous councils for tribal governance, but it does not magically dissolve urban responsibility or guarantee better services. GHADC may be the umbrella for broader tribal administration, while the TMB handles street-level duties like cleanliness, drains, lighting, and footpaths. In practice, the lines blur, and the result is a chorus of complaints from residents watching taxes rise while the basics fall short.
A hard truth many rightly eye: governance isn’t a budget line; it’s daily life. If conservancy workers drag their feet, if the head assistant and frontline staff treat service as a courtesy rather than a duty, and if sweepers juggle dirt without actually clearing it, trust frays faster than a pothole widens. No amount of HH Tax or property tax should be waived in as a magic wand when the reality on the ground is clogged drains, dim streetlights, and sidewalks that double as obstacle courses.
That’s why any tax scheme must be tied to visible, verifiable improvements. People aren’t anti-tax by nature; they’re anti-poverty-level service and opaque spending. Before any new or revised tax is introduced, there must be a transparent accountability map showing who does what (GHADC, TMB, state authorities), a clear plan for how revenue will be spent, and monthly dashboards tracking hygiene, lighting, drains, and footpath maintenance. And yes, the ethos must start at home: offices that model service-first behavior, staff who show up and perform, and a culture that treats citizens with respect rather than indifference.
One living emblem of public service deserves a nod: the garbage-collector truck that greets residents with cheerful reminders about cleanliness. To the drivers and crews who carry that practical message—that cleanliness is a daily obligation—thank you. If more of us could borrow a fraction of that spirit—neighbours encouraging neighbours, offices encouraging staff, officials modeling accountability—we might actually see the town transform.
Footpaths tell a different story. In Tura, a good stretch of public space is claimed by shanty stalls and vegetable vendors. Encroachments aren’t just a nuisance; they’re a symbol of governance that hasn’t fully claimed its urban responsibilities. If licenses and temporary permissions become a barrier to pedestrians, then the tax debate becomes a moral argument: should residents pay for a system that trades walkability for market space? The solution is straightforward in principle: a transparent, enforceable framework for footpath use that prioritizes pedestrians, with a predictable revenue plan that funds proper maintenance rather than quick fixes.
Payroll and accountability add another layer of drama. If GHADC’s executives and payroll have faced delays for years, that’s not just a salary issue—it’s a trust issue. A public body that can’t pay its own people cannot credibly promise timely services to residents. The same standard should apply to the TMB: reliability, transparent budgets, and consistent service delivery before any tax is accepted as a given.
Vero Amana Sangma
Tura
Via e-mail
