Churachandpur: In a psychiatric ward in Churachandpur, Chingnu Haokip answers only with nods. She vomits whatever she eats and, at times, mutters in a language her family members say they do not recognise. Haokip, a Kuki-Zo woman, was the partner of Mayanglambam Rishikanta Singh, a Meitei man who was killed by armed men on 21 January.
“Doctors say she is suffering from acute depression because of the trauma. We try speaking to her, but she doesn’t respond. Sometimes, without any warning, she mutters in a confused language,” said a family member caring for her at the hospital.
Every few hours, her sister checks on her: “Do you feel better?” Haokip shakes her head ‘no’, drawing in a heavy, shuddering breath. Tears slide down her cheeks.
When armed men took Rishikanta away, he left Haokip with a final sentence: that he was going to be killed and wanted his body to be buried in Churachandpur, the place of their love. For a couple of days, Haokip didn’t give his body to the police, insisting that she would bury him in her village, Tuibong.
“She was not letting us take the coffin. She kept saying that he had asked her to bury him here,” said a police official.
Days later, as Rishikanta was laid to rest on a hillock in Kakching district, Haokip was being admitted to a psychiatric ward in Churachandpur.
In the aftermath of the killing, Haokip found herself isolated by both sides of Manipur’s ethnic divide. For Meiteis, she became a suspect in the killing of one of their own. For Kukis, she was a traitor: she lived with a Meitei man, concealed his identity, and crossed a line that the conflict had rendered unforgivable.
Soon after, messages began circulating on WhatsApp groups. “Anyone who has married a Meitei, do not return if you want to avoid such incidents,” one message read. Now, not just Meiteis, even Kukis are calling for her arrest to set an example.
Haokip is the latest tragedy of the Manipur conflict. The violence continues to claim her—this time without guns. For women across Manipur, she is now a chilling reminder of what can happen when love crosses ethnic lines. It is a crime only punishable by death.
“She should not have brought the Meitei man here knowing that there is conflict between Meiteis and Kukis and no solution yet,” said Ginza Vualzong, spokesperson of the Kuki Indigenous Tribal Leaders Forum (ITLF) and the Kuki-Zo Council. “It’s unfortunate that this happened. But this could have been avoided in the first place by the woman herself.”
‘Her world came crashing down’
A clothing store owner, Haokip would visit the church with Rishikanta every weekend. Friends say it was her way of helping him find a place in the Kuki community. The village knew she was with a Meitei man, one even willing to convert to a Kuki. At first, neighbours started distancing, and the couple faced some resistance. But eventually, they accepted him.
Haokip was over five years older than Rishikanta—a trivial detail that has now drawn the attention of the village community. Some allege that the Meitei man was involved with an older woman because he was a spy.
Rishikanta celebrated Christmas with Haokip in Tuibong in full public view. He prayed to Jesus as he would place his arm around her. But it was a well-kept secret buried in the village.
Before she could process how her world had turned upside down, Haokip’s WhatsApp flooded with messages accusing her of betraying the community. Threats followed, warning that she could be killed. Soon, Rishikanta’s family demanded her arrest.
Now, after his killing and Haokip’s worsening condition, Tuibong has fallen silent. The love stories of young couples, especially those with Meitei partners, have been cut short by fear.
Haokip’s wooden house, with its sloping roof covered in tin sheets, was once the heartbeat of a love fed on passion and rebellion. It inspired the young to dare for romance and have the courage to follow their hearts. Once full of life, it now sees sorrowful visitors trickling in to offer sympathy to Haokip’s 76-year-old mother, Lamkho. Even the pet dogs have fallen silent, as if they can sense the grief.
Every hug brings Lamkho to tears. Between sobs, she repeats the same words: “My daughter is innocent.”
It was this house that armed men barged into on 21 January, grabbing Haokip and Rishikanta and shoving them into a car. The journey was brief and brutal—Haokip was thrown out in the middle, while Rishikanta was taken away. The next thing she knew, he was dead.
Before she could process how her world had turned upside down, Haokip’s WhatsApp flooded with messages accusing her of betraying the community. Threats followed, warning that she could be killed. Soon, Rishikanta’s family demanded her arrest.
“She could not take all of this at once. Her world came crashing down, and she began having episodes of unconsciousness,” said one of her relatives.
As the demand for her arrest grew louder and the governor met the family of Rishikanta, Haokip was picked up from her house for investigation, and her phone was seized.
Also read: In Manipur, Meitei man’s funeral procession becomes a public reckoning, with a ‘martyr’s burial’
‘Haokip listened to no one’
When Rishikanta was in Nepal, Haokip spoke to him every day on WhatsApp messages and video calls. He told her that he could leave his family for her, that he was ready to do anything for her sake, and that he wanted her to come to Nepal. But Haokip was a businesswoman and also managed her home.
“She felt committed to her community,” said a friend. “At a time when ethnic violence had rocked the state, she felt she should stay with her people. And Rishikanta was ready to live with her.”
But Haokip’s family didn’t support this. Although their relationship began before the violence, the family gradually grew opposed to Rishikanta because of his identity. “They knew what this relationship could lead to, but Haokip listened to no one,” a relative said.
In Tuibong and across Churachandpur, no one wants to speak about the couple. Conversations drop mid-sentence when their names come up. People lower their voices, look over their shoulders. The silence is born of fear.
Haokip was not the only one with a Meitei partner. A member of a Kuki human rights group said that the Meiteis who had married before the violence and wanted to live in Churachandpur had converted to Christianity. Those who didn’t convert do not visit the Kuki belt. “They go and meet their partners in Guwahati,” said a woman activist, who is also married to a Meitei man. Since the violence in 2023, she has met her husband only once in Guwahati. Now, she lives with her kids in a rented accommodation in Churachandpur.
Another woman, who did not wish to be named, said that although she and her husband can no longer meet, they continue to argue over their communities. “We have been married for 15 years, and he blames me for the violence,” she said. “The violence has crept into our relationship and ruined it.”
Also read: A casket, poster & 3 photos—what’s left after the Meitei man’s funeral in Manipur
Silence in Tuibong
As the process to transfer the case to the National Investigation Agency (NIA) begins, the police say they are also investigating who leaked information about Rishikanta’s Meitei identity to the armed men. They are examining whether his identity alone motivated the killing.
Several theories are circulating. Some allege that Haokip leaked the information after discovering that Rishikanta was involved with someone else. Others suggest that the killing was driven by anger over the death of a sexual assault survivor, and that information about a Meitei man came at a moment when tensions were already high.
However implausible or contradictory these narratives may be, the police say they are investigating all possibilities. One of the accused, who circulated the video of Rishikanta’s killing online, has been arrested.
The police are now trying to trace the conversation that took place between Rishikanta and the armed men as the video was being recorded. The clip shows Rishikanta begging for his life before a gunshot hits him and he collapses instantly. However, he appears to say something moments before the shooting. His words aren’t audible as the audio is muted.
Now, in Tuibong and across Churachandpur, no one wants to speak about the couple. Conversations drop mid-sentence when their names come up. People lower their voices, look over their shoulders. The silence is born of fear.
“The town is now full of informers for the armed men and the police. You can’t trust anyone now. Another fallout of conflict,” said an activist.
Many are afraid that if they say anything at all, the armed men will come for them next.
“I know she made a mistake. Everyone makes a mistake once. And she should be forgiven. Many want her to be forgiven—but we cannot say this openly,” the activist added.
(Edited by Prasanna Bachchhav)