The quiet morning of April 7, 2026, in Tronglaobi, Bishnupur, was shattered by a sound no parent should ever have to hear. Two innocent children lost their lives when a rocket-propelled grenade (RPG) struck near their home. In the immediate aftermath, a familiar and dangerous pattern emerged: instant finger-pointing. Before the smoke had even cleared, the Meitei community and the state government were quick to blame Kuki-Zo militants. However, the evidence found at the scene tells a much more confusing and troubling story. Police recovered a live RPG shell and a launcher just 100 metres from the house. This was not a long-range strike from across a distant border; it was a shot fired from the very edge of the village. Given the heavy presence of CRPF and central forces guarding the buffer zones, it is almost impossible to believe that outsiders could sneak into a high-security Meitei area, plant explosives, and leave behind a heavy launcher without being seen.
Instead of seeking the truth, the valley erupted in a fury that seemed directed more at the peacekeepers than the actual culprits. Angry mobs, reportedly led by the Arambai Tenggol group, turned their rage toward a CRPF camp at Gelmol. This wasn’t a protest for justice; it was a violent attempt to loot more weapons, leading to a fierce clash that left five attackers dead. This reaction raises a painful question: why would a community grieving for children immediately try to steal guns from the national police? The state government’s haste is also baffling. While they announced the arrest of three UKNA cadres with suspicious speed, they have remained strangely quiet about why military-grade shells were being used with home-made launchers right under their noses. By rushing to a narrative that fits a political agenda, the authorities are failing the very families they claim to protect.
To understand the depth of this crisis, we must look back at the selective memory of the Meitei civil society. While the death of the two children in Tronglaobi is a tragedy, the silence regarding past horrors is deafening. On June 4 (Sunday), 2023, a seven-year-old boy named Tonsing Hangsing was being rushed to a hospital in an ambulance, accompanied by his Meitei mother and another Meitei woman. Despite being under police escort, a massive mob in Imphal burnt the ambulance and everyone inside alive. There were no massive protests for Tonsing; there was no soul-searching by the Meitei leaders. This double standard reveals a deep-seated hatred that has poisoned the state. When one side’s suffering is treated as a national emergency while the other’s is ignored or cheered, the hope for peace begins to wither away.
The tragedy in Manipur is not just about the weapons used, but the mindset of those holding them. The state government and the valley’s civil society have built a wall of “wrong narratives” designed to tarnish the Kuki-Zo people at every turn. Until there is an honest investigation into how these deadly explosives are moving through Meitei villages, and until the life of a Kuki child is valued as much as Meitei child, the cycle of violence will never end. The hatred being sown today is so deep that it may take generations to heal. For Manipur to survive, the Meitei community must stop fooling itself and realize that peace cannot be built on a foundation of lies and selective grief.
~ Zogam Today | Editorial (OL) | 11.04.2026
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