Exiles from Manipur rebuild lives far from home

Earlier in February, the Manipuri film Boong received the award for Best Children’s and Family Film at the British Academy of Film and Television Arts (BAFTA) Awards 2026. The film revisits the conflict between the Meitei and the Kuki-Zo communities in the northeastern state that erupted in 2023 and was declared over in 2025.

But for many residents, the scars remain raw.

Thousands continue to live in displacement, their days shaped by uncertainty. To call it a mere “conflict”, some argue, understates the scale of devastation. With scores dead and remembrance walls rising in different pockets, the aftermath lingers. Many of the internally displaced continue to move from office to office in search of support. For several, their address remains unchanged — relief camps guarded by security forces.

While some remain in camps, others have attempted to rebuild their lives in different states. Delhi has emerged as one of the primary destinations. Yet, more than two years on, returning home appears to be a distant hope.

“There is no normalcy there yet”

Lamkhogin Haokip, who works in policy with a non-governmental organisation attached to a state government, says he still waits for the day he can return.

“It is still almost impossible for me to go back, especially considering the situation in Manipur. There is no normalcy there yet, and I cannot even enter Imphal if I want to get home unscathed,” he says over the phone, his voice heavy.

Having lost his parents early, Haokip’s immediate family now comprises only his elder brother. The violence has disrupted even his brother’s education.

“He was studying dentistry in Imphal (Manipur’s capital) earlier,” Haokip says. “However, after the conflict erupted, he was left with nowhere to go.”

Even after the conflict was officially “ended”, he says, little has changed for his brother. Haokip explains that his brother cannot return to the Valley because of heightened communal suspicion, which he says has been fuelled “more against the tribals by Imphal based media houses”.

Now around 28, his brother must search for another institution to resume his dentistry degree, as there are no such colleges in the Hills.

“We barely have any medical college here in tribal areas, and the only dentistry college near us is in Imphal, and its nothing short of dangerous getting there,” Haokip says.

Healthcare, he adds, has deteriorated sharply.

“I lost one of my friends to tuberculosis because the healthcare has been in doldrums ever since the conflict,” he says.

Lack of healthcare a mainstay

The healthcare crisis is not unique to Haokip.

Paojalam Haokip, now living in Munirka in South Delhi, had arrived in the capital in 2023, just before the violence began. Since then, he has not been able to return home.

He has shifted from a rented accommodation near North Campus to a single room in Lajpat Nagar, and now to Munirka — still without what he calls a sense of home.

“I have been stranded here for over two years. Without any money and my family not being able to cope with the financial situation back home either, I do not know when I will be able to return home,” he says.

The route back itself has become complicated and expensive. Earlier, he says, it would cost around Rs 8,000 to reach Imphal Airport. Now he must fly to Aizawl Airport in Mizoram and travel by road through hilly terrain to Churachandpur.

“There is no way for us to get to the Hills without travelling to either of the two neighbouring states of Assam or Mizoram. The route from Imphal remains more difficult to navigate through than ever. It is almost impossible,” Paojalam says.

More distressing, he adds, is the collapse of healthcare infrastructure in the Hills.

“The entirety of the health care infrastructure in the Hills have been paralysed,” he says. “None of the tribal belt areas have any way or form to ensure that its people get the best treatment owing to the fact that there are no facilities there.”

He says he has heard of several deaths due to treatable illnesses.

“Members of a friend’s family died because of extremely treatable sicknesses, and just because there are not a lot of hospitals in the Hills, they had to succumb,” he says.

Those with financial means, he adds, have been able to travel to neighbouring states for treatment. “But the majority are not financially well off, and especially, after the conflict, all work has stopped,” he says. Even his brother, who once supported the family financially, has turned to farming. “But even there, the demand has been exceptionally low since the financial centre is in Imphal.”

An unreachable home

Kevin Haokip, a 29-year-old professional, has not returned to Manipur since March 2023.

His family lived in New Lambulane, near Kangla Palace in Imphal. The locality’s name, he explains, is a tribute to the Lambus — interlocutors who once served the Manipur princely state, bridging the hills and the Valley.

“My grandfather was an interlocutor between the hills and the valley… they used to travel to the hills for sorts of law and order,” Kevin says. “I still have my grandfather’s pension (papers) where his date of birth and the time he joined are mentioned.”

Despite this history, he says his family home is no longer accessible.

“The house is still there, but I think it is illegally occupied by someone else right now. We don’t even know who,” he says. “I was even telling my friends ‘please, from far away, can you at least shoot a picture of the house,’ but they couldn’t even do that. They are scared.”

On May 3, 2023, when violence broke out, Kevin was in Delhi. Communication networks collapsed, and flight prices surged as his family sought safety.

“I remember having a last word with my brother on the night of the 3rd,” he recalls. “He was telling me, ‘In case I couldn’t survive, you would have to take care of the family.’ I was like, ‘No, you’re not going to die. I’m going to do everything possible to let you guys survive.’”

His brother, a doctoral student in History at Manipur University, has also seen his academic journey derailed.

“Manipur University doesn’t want to transfer him… they don’t want the students to sustain their education,” Kevin says. “How can they ask a Kuki student to come to the [Imphal] campus? This is so absurd.”

Forced to abandon years of research, his brother is now preparing for competitive examinations.

Kevin continues to work in Delhi, contributing to national health policy, while his family’s past in Imphal remains uncertain.

Compensation — a distant dream

For many, financial relief has been as elusive as return.

“My family members have not received anything in the way of compensation,” says Tingbem Khongsai, President of the Kuki Students’ Organisation (KSO). He adds that while some have received food supplies from security forces, “no monetary help has yet been doled out to the people who are still stuck in relief camps”.

Khongsai says his family has managed to rent accommodation, but others remain in camps. “Others are not so lucky,” he says.

Both the Manipur Government and the Centre had announced compensation measures. However, several displaced persons say they have yet to see tangible benefits.

“Even the Rs 84 per day direct cash transfer benefit remains a distant dream,” says one displaced person in Delhi, speaking on condition of anonymity.

Nearly three years after the violence began, many of those who fled continue to live in limbo — rebuilding lives in the capital while their homes, and futures, remain out of reach.