Orphaned, tortured, severed from parents, and now brought to the city for education, Manipuris share heart-wreching stories...brace up

Rana Siddiqui Zaman | NT

Bengaluru: As reporters, we are taught not to get swayed by emotions, gather facts, inform readers the truth, detach and move on.

But you can’t listen and write about the facts about teenagers of Manipur without getting your eyes moist. Some 600 boys and girls from Manipur were brought to one of the orphanages in Bengaluru a couple of months ago.

Soon most of them were moved to charity homes, boarding or coaching centres and job spaces, while some 70 remain here, not knowing their journey ahead.

Orphanage’s owner doesn’t want to be quoted. But he shares with NT that it takes Rs.5k to 6k per person per month to sustain him on a shoe-string budget in the city.

He knows not, how much he shall be able to help them in future with such a fund crunch. Most of these children aged 10 to 25, walk in groups of three to six. They feign being busy, lost in themselves avoiding eye contact with any passers-by in the campus.

A day ago, some five of them were gathered near the exit gate, their stuffed bags indicating they were ready to move. A bus was seen waiting for them. This reporter noticed a teenager pushing her head between her knees.

An elderly lady tries to pacify her. One ruffles her hair, and asks, ‘May I help you?’ This is an unknown voice to her. The girl lifts her head, shrugs her shoulders and runs away, refusing to entertain.

At night three teenage girls are seen walking in the campus. This reporter asks if they mind talking. One of them has her headphones on, perhaps listening to someone. She hides behind another girl who is forthcoming. “I am Grace (name changed). We are going from here tomorrow. We would be sent to learn a beautician course from here.”

A 24-year-old comes running from upstairs and requests, “Madam, don’t ask much. They are all traumatized.”

He asks, what do I do? “I work with News Trail, a new newspaper.”

“Can you give me a job there?”, he asks. My brother has been helped to work as an office boy in Bengaluru. His salary won’t be sufficient for us three brothers and mother who is with us here,” he nearly pleads.

Next day is more charged. This time NT speaks with three teenage boys, 16, 14 and 13. Philip, (name withheld) the eldest one is forthcoming. Sam, middle one, is lost and largely keeps quiet. The youngest James, sounds more informed, level headed, certain and focused. They were neighbours and studied in the same St. Joseph School in Manipur.

“I come from village Sugnu in Manipur. We are three brothers and sisters. My mother is a housewife. The government destroyed our village. So many people came and burnt everything we had.” James chips in, “No! Before burning, they took our precious things, jewellery etc.”

We are 120 in number. Assam Rifles gave us some food for a few days. We were rushed to Guwahati relief camp, then to Bengaluru. We are here for one month. Sam looks in the air. He stiffens his body but his face gives in the vulnerability.

James has everything clear in his mind. He wants to say more. “They came exactly at 2 am at night in a gypsy. I saw my watch. They burnt all our property. One boy was beheaded in front of our eyes. They had slit the throat of many boys, then beheaded them, then hung their heads one by one on a tree in front of us. Then they cut the body they beheaded into so many pieces. Then they cut the private parts of the boys, and played with it like a football. They would throw it in the air; another one will jump and kick it. They will laugh while playing with it,” James goes on like he has to vent it out all in one go! The teens confirm the “killer Kuki boys were around 18-20 years old.”

James was rushed to Imphal, where he was hidden in Don Bosco School, but there too, he was not safe. Then he was rushed to Shillong to Guwahati to Bengaluru in these three months. He was with his parents – father; a government school teacher, mother a homemaker and other siblings. James at 13 knows what rape means.

He goes on, “They killed women and raped girls. They also used their women to fight with us. I know government is with them. It supplies them guns. Even our Chief Minister is on their side. I know.”

One deaf woman, Philip (45) recalls, was burnt to death with her house. “We are landless, moneyless…” he gulps words.

He “has not planned” what he wants to do now. “I am sad and angry,” he mutters. The reporter meets a 24-year-old an ex-Kuki Students Union President, living around the orphanage. He blurts but feebly, “We don’t kill. We just defend ourselves. They make stories too.”