By Nimrat Ranhotra
In relief camps across Manipur, children aren’t thinking about school or exams right now, they are just trying to feel safe. Families who lived next to each other not long ago are now separated by fear, by rumours, by things they may never fully forget. For them, this isn’t really about politics anymore, it’s about getting through each day somehow.
And honestly, that’s what makes everything else harder to ignore.Because while all of this is happening, there is also a kind of silence that feels just as heavy. Not the silence of peace but something else, something like delay, distance, and not enough being said or done when it actually matters the most.
The violence in Manipur, which started as tensions between Meitei and Kuki-Zo communities, has gone far beyond that now. It’s not just clashes anymore, it’s more like a breakdown. Areas are divided, trust is gone, and even when things look “calm”, it doesn’t feel normal at all. It just feels paused, like anything could happen again.
I often come across posts on social media that openly defy the government so much so that it feels like people are turning away from the very nation they look to for safety. Will this change, or will Manipur continue to suffer as if it exists outside the country, never truly within it?
The Government of Manipur hasn’t really been able to fully control the situation, and that much is clear. But what’s more difficult to understand is the response from the Government of India, with so much power at both levels, you would expect stronger and more visible leadership; something that actually reassures people. Instead, it has often felt slow. Controlled. Almost a bit distant.
There have been internet shutdowns, curfews, more security forces but those things only go so far. They might reduce violence for a span of time, but they don’t really fix what is broken underneath. You can’t rebuild trust through restrictions, and you can’t bring communities back together just by controlling movement or information alone.
And for people in Manipur, the impact is very real. Lives have been disrupted in ways that won’t just go back to normal quickly. Students have lost months of education, families have lost homes and stability, and any sense of certainty is missing. The longer this continues, the more permanent this damage becomes, in ways we probably don’t even see yet.
For many in the Northeast, this kind of distance isn’t new exactly. There is often this feeling that issues here don’t get the same urgency unless they become impossible to ignore. Even now, news from Manipur comes and goes in the national spotlight, but for the people living through it, it doesn’t really dampen.
Criticising the government doesn’t mean opposing it, but it should mean expecting more. Especially in situations like this. The Government of India needs to do more than just manage the situation. It needs to actively try and resolve it, openly, consistently, and with all communities being part of the process.
Because right now, this isn’t just a conflict. It’s also a test of how seriously governance takes people when they are at their most vulnerable phase. In Manipur today, what’s broken isn’t just peace, it’s trust. Something that is much harder to rebuild than control.
