For a journalist in a conflict zone, covering stories of loss and lives torn apart by the relentless violence in Manipur has become all too familiar. Yet, the story of Ngangbam Surbala Devi—a wife, a mother, and a dreamer—stands apart. This is not just another account of death; it is a deeply personal tragedy that underscores the profound human cost of the violence that has ravaged this region since May 2023.
The morning of September 1, 2024, started like any other for Surbala, a 31-year-old woman living in the quiet village of Phayeng. She was a woman of simple joys, her life centred around her husband, Ingo, and their two children, Mahesh, 14, and Rosia, 8. Ingo served as a Village Defence Force (VDF) personnel under the Manipur Police, a role that often took him away from home, leaving Surbala to manage their household on her own. Despite the challenges, she did so with grace and determination, running a small piggery and brewing local rice liquor to supplement their income.
It was a Sunday and Surbala was particularly excited. She was preparing to visit Mahesh at his boarding school, Kangleipak Modern School in Lairenkabi, to check on his mid-term results. She wanted him to study hard and become a doctor. Knowing how much he loved chicken curry, she had called Ingo the night before, asking him to prepare the dish for their son. This simple act of care and love, so typical of her, would be one of the last memories Mahesh would have of his mother. Early the next morning, Surbala set off on her two-wheeler to pick up Ingo from his post. Back at their home, after Ingo cooked the curry, they shared a simple lunch, a rare moment of family time, before she dropped him back and continued to the school with Rosia and a nephew tagging along.
When she arrived at the school, she was eager to hear how Mahesh had done.
“Mother came around 11 am and asked about my results,” Mahesh recalled when I spoke to him. “I told her I secured the 6th rank. She said it was okay but encouraged me to try harder for the finals.” They sat together, enjoying the chicken curry and other treats she had brought, savouring the moment of togetherness in the midst of a life that often kept them apart.
After their meal, Rosia and their cousin insisted on visiting their grandmother’s house in Koutruk. Despite her initial reluctance, Surbala gave in, promising Mahesh she would see him again soon. That promise, however, would go unfulfilled.
Later that day, Mahesh was escorted back to their home in Phayeng, still blissfully unaware of the tragedy that had unfolded. As they approached the house, he noticed people dressed in ceremonial whites, gathered in the courtyard, their faces marked by sorrow. The truth hit him like a wave of cold water—his mother was gone.
She had been shot in the head during an attack in Koutruk, a place that should have been safe. His sister, Rosia who was also hit by a bullet in her right hand is at the hospital undergoing treatment and improving.
Koutruk, situated at the foothills of Kangpokpi, in the far western side of Imphal West district, had long been vulnerable to the ethnic violence between the Kuki-Chin and Meitei communities. On that fateful day, suspected Kuki-Chin militants escalated their aggression, using military-grade drones to drop grenades on the village, followed by indiscriminate gunfire.
Ingo, stationed just eight kilometres away, had received a frantic call from Surbala. “We’re in Koutruk, and there’s firing from the mountains. They’re even using drones to drop bombs. I’ve taken the kids,” she had told him, her voice trembling with fear. Helpless, he urged her to find cover, never imagining that these would be their last words.
The details of the attack were harrowing. The militants, armed with new and terrifying technology, rained destruction on the village. Surbala and Rosia were taking cover on the verandah of her maternal home when a bullet pierced the earthen wall. It struck Rosia’s arm before fatally wounding Surbala in the head.
The news devastated Ingo and could barely hold back his tears. “Why did this happen to my wife? She was the kindest, most hard-working person. She single-handedly took care of our family. How will I live without her? How will I raise our children?”
Mahesh, still in shock, struggled to understand why his mother’s life had been cut short. He remembered how she looked at him that day, full of pride and love, encouraging him to do better. Those moments, so ordinary at the time, had taken on an unbearable weight, as the last time he would ever see her alive.
Thokchom Anju, a midwife married to Surbala’s brother, lamented with deep anguish the loss of her sister-in-law, recalling how Surbala had come to visit after months of absence.
Romen Leishangthem, secretary of the Koutruk Youth Club, recounted the attack with a heavy heart. “The militants started firing around 2 pm, catching us off guard. It was a new kind of warfare. They used drones to drop bombs with terrifying precision. Surbala and her daughter were taking cover on the verandah, trying to stay safe. The bullet that hit Rosia’s arm passed through and struck Surbala, taking her life.”
The loss of Surbala is not just a personal tragedy for her family; it is a stark reminder of the ongoing ethnic violence that has plagued Manipur. This conflict has claimed over 230 lives, left many missing, injured and displaced countless more. Homes and places of worship on both sides have been reduced to ashes. Despite recent efforts to restore peace, the escalation in violence and the use of advanced weaponry suggests that the road to reconciliation remains fraught with danger.
The Koutruk-droned propelled attack is testimony to the fragility of life in conflict zones, where a peaceful day can turn into a nightmare in an instant.
Surbala’s story is one of countless others, but her story brings home the human cost of this conflict. A mother’s dreams for her children, a wife’s hopes for a future with her husband—all shattered by a single bullet.
For the bereaved family, an overwhelming sense of loss permeates their home. The dreams that Surbala had for her children will now remain unfulfilled, a haunting reminder of the price that ordinary people pay in times of violent conflict. For Mahesh and Ingo, life will never be the same, their world is irrevocably changed by a conflict that has taken so much from so many.