Sinakeithei, Manipur | EKHON: A quiet corner of Manipur’s Sinakeithei village in Ukhrul district once echoed with school bells and children’s laughter. Today, those sounds have been replaced by gunfire, fear, and uncertainty.
Since the first shots were fired on the fateful day of 8 February by Kuki armed cadres under the Suspension of Operations, the situation has not only failed to subside but has escalated with each passing day, severely disrupting normal life. The constant echo of gunfire and violence has taken a deep psychological toll on residents, leaving communities trapped in fear and instability.
Among the worst affected are school-going children. Deprived of safe environments, many are unable to attend classes regularly, while others have been forced to flee their homes in search of security. The ongoing unrest has not only interrupted their education but has placed their futures in jeopardy.
Educators and community members say schools, once safe spaces, are now clouded by fear. Ongoing violence has not only interrupted learning but also taken a serious toll on the mental well-being of both students and teachers.
In a desperate attempt to be heard, students and teachers from three schools, Model English School Sinakeithei, Sinakeithei Chingshang High School & Primary School, and Chi-Ching MK Academy, came together to protest against the ongoing attacks by armed Kuki cadres in their village.
“We are here to express our anguish and dissatisfaction over the state government’s inaction,” said Bernice Zingchon Nancy Rungsung, headmistress of Sinakeithei Primary School.
Speaking both as an educator and a mother, she said the situation has made it impossible to ensure the safety of students. “Every day, parents entrust us with their children, and our foremost responsibility is to keep them safe while they learn. But we are unable to do so,” she said, citing repeated attacks on the village by armed militants from the surrounding hill ranges.
She added that normal schooling has come to a halt. “Our students are no longer learning; they are only surviving. We are living in constant fear, not knowing when the next attack will occur.”
Sinakeithei Primary School, once filled with 450 students, now has only 138. Families with the means have relocated their children to safer areas, leaving behind those who must navigate a daily reality where education is no longer assured, but fraught with risk.
Parents who once looked to schools to secure their children’s future now find themselves preoccupied with their safety. Meanwhile, children yearn for the presence and care of their parents.
“I want my father to come home and sleep like before,” a young student said, now moving from one house to another for safety, as older male family members take on the role of protecting their homes and land.
Another student added, “We don’t go to school like before… I miss playing with my friends.”
Their voices lay bare a painful truth, childhood, as they knew it, has been shattered beyond recognition. Students recount nights spent fleeing to safer places, lessons abruptly halted by gunfire, and dreams slipping slowly. Yet amid the danger and uncertainty, teachers continue to stand by them. Shanyao Ruivah, a village teacher, speaks candidly about the challenge of educating under such conditions.
“Sometimes, in the middle of class, we hear gunshots. The students grow anxious, and it becomes impossible to go on,” she said.
Ruivah also raised serious concerns about safety and restricted movement in the area. She said residents are unable to move freely or use main roads, describing the situation as one of “captivity.” She added that even areas near security camps have not been spared, with bullets reaching school premises. Students are also advised to wear dark clothing to avoid being seen.
Despite the risks, she said teachers remain committed to continuing classes in whatever way possible. Emphasising the importance of education, Ruivah noted that their aim is to help students rise above the violence through learning and understanding, rather than fear or hatred.
Over the past two months of continuous firing, daily life has been disrupted. Evenings, once reserved for study and family meals, have taken on a different reality. Instead of preparing for homework or dinner, elderly residents and students are seen gathering their essentials like blankets, backpacks, and basic supplies, ready to move at a moment’s notice. As night approaches, many relocate to safer areas, bracing themselves for the possibility of fresh gunfire. This uncertainty and fear now shape everyday life in the area, with the psychological toll worsening each day.
“If a day passes without gunfire, it feels unusual. That itself is not normal,” Ruivah reflected.
In a unified stand, students, teachers, and parents came together holding placards and calling for peace. “We need safety. We deserve peace. Stop the violence,” students say in unison. Their demands are clear: restore peace, ensure safety, protect education, and safeguard their future. As the situation remains unresolved, that future continues to hang in the balance.
“We are just children,” one student says. “We deserve to learn in peace, not live in pieces.”
Yet despite everything, the community clings to hope. Teachers keep teaching, students keep dreaming, and parents hold fast to the promise of a better tomorrow, even as the echo of gunshots lingers in the distance.
