Echoes of a Harrowing Birthday | Evan Lienthuom Gangte

I WOKE early on the morning of 13 May 2026 and began my journey from Tuibuong toward Kangpokpi for the couples’ retreat organized by Kangpokpi Independent Baptist Church. The air carried the freshness of dawn, calm and full of promise. It was also my birthday, and the day seemed to begin with quiet joy. I was travelling with Rev. Khaizakham and Evan Lelet in a Bolero vehicle named Hekachoh. Our driver picked me up from Kashmir Veng before we collected Rev. Khama along the way. Together, we set out with hopeful hearts, looking forward to another spiritually enriching gathering. None of us imagined how quickly the day would darken.

As I look back now, one memory refuses to leave me: sharing breakfast that morning with the very pastors who would later lose their lives in the militant ambush. Ordinary moments suddenly feel sacred when viewed through the lens of tragedy. I remember Rev. Khama taking photographs with them as they smiled at the camera, unaware those would become their final pictures.

Though we were the first team to take off, the vehicle carrying Rev. V. Sitlhou, Rev. Paugoulen and Rev. Kaigoulun, overtook ours at Tupul, moving much faster than we were. About ten minutes later, we stopped briefly at Kotlien to refuel. During those few moments, horrifying news reached us: the vehicle ahead had been ambushed by armed militants. Our driver immediately halted. Silence filled our vehicle as the weight of the news settled upon us. One thought kept racing through my mind: Had we gone ahead first, would it have been us instead? In that instant, life felt unbearably fragile.

Soon after police and army personnel arrived, we proceeded toward the ambush site with trembling hearts. Nothing could prepare us for what we saw. The sight of three anointed pastors lying lifeless on the ground was devastating beyond words. Pastor Hekai Simte, who had miraculously escaped, recounted the horrifying incident to us. The bodies were later taken away in an ambulance, and Rev. Khama and I accompanied them. Our journey continued through Kanchup, then toward Imphal, before turning through Sekmai and entering Gamgiphai, where crowds of mourners lined the roads in grief and disbelief. By evening, we finally reached Kangpokpi.

We had arrived at our destination, but not in the way we had imagined.

Even now, I cannot fully comprehend how the Lord carried us safely through that valley of fear and death. The words of Scripture echoed repeatedly within me: “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me.”

What began as a birthday filled with anticipation became a painful reminder of how uncertain and precious life truly is.

To everyone who prayed for us through this ordeal, Thank You!!  Your prayers carried strength where words could not. And as the night fell over Kangpokpi, one question lingered quietly in all our hearts: would the camp still go on, or had grief already overtaken it? 

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