[Apeda Rondo]
When we introduce ourselves, there’s a sense of pride that swells within us as we declare, “We are Idu Mishmi.” We carry the rich tapestry of our culture and tradition, celebrating our community pride and heritage – values that resonate deeply within every tribal community. Among our many cherished festivals, none is more significant than Reh festival of the Idu Mishmi tribe.
Since its declaration as a community festival in 1967, Reh has evolved from an individual rite to a collective celebration. In earlier times, each Idu male was expected to conduct a Reh once or twice in his lifetime, marking the occasion with a profound blend of ritual, pride, wealth, honour, and legacy. These gatherings were intimate, inviting only close relatives from maternal and marital families to partake in joyous festivities.
In recent years, Reh festival has seen a remarkable resurgence, particularly among our youths. Whether motivated by curiosity or a deep-seated love for our culture, this enthusiasm is truly inspiring. As a vital community event, Reh plays an essential role in preserving our traditions, showcasing our heritage, and ensuring that our proud culture flourishes, especially in these ever-changing times when it is vulnerable.
Yet, as we celebrate, we must confront a troubling reality: many recent Reh festivals have devolved into spectacles of waste and excessive expenditure. This calls for a critical reflection on how we honour our legacy. Traditionally, Reh embodies the spirit of giving and receiving, perpetuating the customs of our ancestors, which involve lending cash and making significant sacrifices with mithuns, pigs, rice, and other essential items. However, we must recognise the shifting landscape around us.
The ritualistic slaughter of numerous animals in the name of tradition raises ethical questions, and the lavish displays of wealth – often aimed at asserting power and status – can be both unwise and wasteful. In this modern age, where inflation looms large, we must embrace a more sustainable approach to conducting these rituals. While I am not suggesting that our traditions are outdated or devoid of value, we must face the realities of the 21st century and consider their implications for our community.
The financial repercussions borne by the Adaya party during Reh can be staggering, often taking years or even decades to resolve. Some individuals become trapped in a cycle of debt, leaving their families in turmoil long after the festivities have ended. The pursuit of traditional courtesy can lead to hefty loans for purchasing multiple mithuns, pigs, and a host of other items, from bottled water and cold drinks to disposable plates, foreign liquors, and locally brewed rice beer. Such burdens drain not only individual resources but also the vitality of our local economy, consuming precious time and energy from our relatives.
We must take a stand for the future of Reh, ensuring that it thrives not as a source of financial strain but as a sustainable celebration. We must embrace a model of community festival that honours our legacy while remaining feasible and sensible. Let us commit to preserving the essence of Naba Ita Pulu, ensuring that it continues to inspire and enrich generations to come. (The contributor is a travel consultant at Kanhi Kanla Tours and Travels. He can be reached at rondoadiju@gmail.com.)
