Hoinu is a first-generation learner. Born and brought up in Moreh, a small town in Manipur bordering Myanmar, about 110 kilometres from Imphal, she came to Delhi in 2012 to pursue higher education. She is currently pursuing an MPhil degree.
Hoinu was one of more than 2,000 members of the beleaguered Kuki-Zo community that staged a sit-in on November 3 at Jantar Mantar to express their anguish at the ongoing persecution they are facing in their home state.
A student of psychology, she understands trauma and has spent the last six months counselling and comforting her fellow Kuki-Zos in the National Capital Region, many of whom are battling severe anxiety and depression.
“When the violence first broke out in May, we, the Kuki students in Delhi University, couldn’t eat, sleep, or study. I couldn’t focus on my dissertation because I was so worried about my family back home. One student even tried to take his own life because he felt so guilty that he couldn’t be with his family in their time of need. I also feel homeless and uprooted because I haven’t been able to go back home for six months. The reason being that the road back home leads through Imphal valley which is now practically off limits for Kukis,” she said.
The sadness at the sit-in was palpable. A dozen people stood on stage holding posters of the Kuki-Zos who have been killed in the violence over the last six months, while those who knew the deceased shared stories about their lives and about how they had died.
A large Kuki-Zo sit-in at Jantar Mantar on November 3. Photo: Rohit Kumar
On asking what has changed over the last six months in Manipur, Mary Grace, one of the founders of the Kuki-Zo Women’s Group, told The Wire, “Nothing has changed. The Meiti extremists have stopped the violence for a while to reorganise and train themselves, and now they have started attacking the Kuki people in Moreh again, the same way they did in Imphal valley six months ago.”
“At least back then, the Kukis could run to the army camps. Now, the Kukis are forced to stay in the forest and have no place to reside. Their houses have been robbed and looted,” she added.
Grace also offered a word of warning: “Please understand that this is not just about saving the Kuki people. It is about saving Indian democracy. We may only be seven lakhs in number, but if the Kuki people lose, India will also lose. This violence is just the beginning. Slowly, there will be no place left for the minority people in India.”
“In the same way that the majority Meitei community has subjugated the minority Kuki community, the same thing is going to play out in the whole of India. This is what is scaring me,” she said.
A child holds the tricolour at the Jantar Mantar protest on November 3. Photo: Rohit Kumar
A woman holds a poster at the Jantar Mantar sit-in on November 3. Photo: Rohit Kumar
One couldn’t help but notice the huge number of Indian tricolours being held up at the sit-in. Also, unlike most street protests, where there is usually a limited repertoire of slogans and messages on display, the messages on the posters that nearly everyone in the audience was holding were unusual in both variety and length.
Even if no one had said a word on stage, the posters in themselves managed to tell the Kuki-Zo story of the last six months.
‘Kuki-Hmar-Zomi-Mizo Women’s Bodies are Not Battlefields. Stand With the Oppressed.’
‘End the Nightmare. End Biren’s Tyranny’
‘Selective Justice Is Injustice for Kuki-Zo’
‘Protect Indian Tribals From Anti-National Separatist Meiteis’
‘Hand Over the Dead Bodies of Tribals At Imphal Morgues To Their Families After Postmortem and Forensic Examination’
‘Forced Silence in Manipur. Modiji, Silence Is Not Always Golden’
‘Worship God, Not Genocide’
‘To Our Future Children – We Did Not Remain Silent. We Fought Hard For Your Tomorrow.’
The poster that perhaps best captured the bitter feeling of being forsaken read:
‘Yes, We Are Labelled Foreigners In Manipur But We Are Indians In the Land Of Our Forefathers. We Fought the British In 1917. We Are the Forsaken Children Of Netaji’s INA Soldiers.’
Activist and journalist John Dayal, one of the speakers at the event who had visited Manipur as part of a fact-finding team, soon after the violence broke out, gently corrected a previous speaker who had told the gathering that the victims of a genocide ultimately have to stand alone.
“While it is important to document every single case of wrongdoing, don’t lose your sense of community. Your community will not forsake you. Look at the anti-Sikh pogrom of 1984. The Sikh community rallied behind the victims, supported them, and brought many of the perpetrators to justice,” he said.
He referred to the persecution of Christians in Kandhamal in 2008, and the legal victories won by the victims there, and said, “Class cases and individual cases go hand in hand when you go to court.”
He drew parallels between the genocide in Gaza and the slaughter of Kukis in Manipur and reminded the audience and members of the civil society that it was important to keep calling out the complicity of the governments in power, best evidenced in the case of Manipur by the near-complete silence of the prime minister on the matter.
Also read: Narendra Modi Talked About the Manipur Violence. But Did He Really?
After talking to several high-ranking Meiti officials while in Manipur, Dayal said he realised that the name ‘Kuki-Zo’ was being obliterated.
Instead of calling them Kukis, the Meitei officials would instead refer to them as “illegal Kuki narco-terrorists”. In one breath, an entire section of the Manipuri society was now being labelled as ‘illegal migrants, narcotic peddlers, and terrorists’.
Despite the huge odds stacked against the Kuki-Zo community, Hoinu, the psychology student, hasn’t lost hope.
“We are going to strive as long as we are alive. This is now a matter of safeguarding our homeland. There will be some dark days, but the sun will shine again.”
Rohit Kumar is an educator.
