Manipur's Surbala Devi, Shot In Head, Was A Devoted Mother Till The End

Amid the sound of gunfire and explosions that reverberated in the valley in Manipur, Ngangbam Surbala Devi lived a happy life centred around the love for and well-being of her family. The 31-year-old was more than just a homemaker; she was the glue that held her family together, managing their home with grace and determination, supplementing their modest earnings, and ensuring her children received the education they deserved, her relatives said.

On September 1, the unrelenting ethnic violence shattered her world, ending her life in the place she had once called home.

Surbala Devi's killing is not just another tale of loss; it is a heartbreaking reminder of the innocent lives torn apart by senseless conflict. Her death has left behind a grieving husband and two young children.

At her home in the quiet, green village of Phayeng, Surbala Devi was the heartbeat of her family, balancing multiple roles with an unwavering commitment, her relatives said.

Her husband, Ngangbam Ingo, served as a village guard, a role that often kept him away from home amid the ethnic violence. In his absence, Surbala Devi raised their two children - Mahesh, 14, and Rosia, 8.

She ran a small piggery and a local rice liquor brewery to support her family. Despite her small income, her tireless efforts were enough to keep her family afloat during the Manipur crisis, her relatives said.

August 31 was a special day for Surbala Devi. She eagerly prepared to visit her son Mahesh at Kangleipak Modern School in Lairenkabi, where he boarded. His mid-term results were out, and she was anxious to see how he had done.

Knowing how much he loved chicken curry, she planned to surprise him with his favourite dish. She called her husband Ingo the night before, asking him to prepare the meal for their son. The next morning, Surbala Devi set off on her two-wheeler to pick up her husband. They shared a simple lunch together - a rare moment of family time - before she dropped him back and continued to the school with Rosia and a nephew.

"Mother came at 11 am and asked about my results," Mahesh said, his voice tinged with sadness. "I told her I got sixth rank. She said it was okay, but encouraged me to try harder for the final exam."

They enjoyed the chicken curry and other treats she had brought, savouring these precious moments together. Soon, Rosia and their cousin began insisting they visit their grandmother's house in Koutruk.

Giving in to their pleas, Surbala Devi decided to take them there, promising Mahesh she would see him again soon. Little did he know these would be his last moments with his mother.

Later that day, Mahesh was taken back home in Phayeng, blissfully unaware of the tragedy that had happened. As he approached the house, he was startled to see a crowd of people in white dress gathered in the courtyard.

A sense of dread filled him as he hurried inside, looking for his mother. It was only then that he learned the devastating news - his mother had been shot in the head and killed during an attack in Koutruk. The police later said it was an attack by suspected Kuki insurgents.

Koutruk, located at the foothills where the hills of Kangpokpi begin, had always been a vulnerable target in the ongoing ethnic violence between Kuki insurgents and the Meitei community.

On September 1, after Surbala Devi arrived at her maternal home with her children, the village was suddenly attacked. Suspected Chin-Kuki militants, escalating their aggression, used military-grade drones to drop bombs, coupled with indiscriminate gunfire.

Ingo received a call from Surbala, her voice filled with fear.

"We're in Koutruk, and there's firing from the mountains. They're even using drones to drop bombs. I've taken the kids, and we're ducking for cover," she told him.

Ingo, 8 km away, could only urge her to stay safe. These would be the last words he ever exchanged with his wife. Moments later, a bullet pierced the earthen wall of the verandah where Surbala Devi and Rosia were taking cover. The bullet struck Rosia in the arm before fatally wounding Surbala Devi in the head.

The news broke Ingo's heart. Consumed by grief, he could barely find the words.

"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?" he said, and broke down.

Romen Leishangthem, secretary of the Koutruk Youth Club, recounted the attack.

"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 lying on the verandah, trying to stay safe. The bullet that hit Rosia's arm passed through and struck Surbala, taking her life."

Surbala Devi's death adds a number to the casualties list of the unending ethnic violence that has ravaged Manipur, claiming over 230 lives, leaving many missing, and countless more injured, traumatised and displaced.

Homes and places of worship on both sides have been reduced to ashes. Despite recent efforts to restore peace, the escalation of violence with advanced weaponry signals a disturbing trend, suggesting that the road to reconciliation and normalcy is still fraught with danger.

As Manipur continues to grapple with its deep-seated ethnic strife, the memory of Surbala Devi stands as a sad example of the senseless loss of innocent lives. A devoted wife, a loving mother, and a pillar of her family, Surbala Devi's legacy lives on in the hearts of those she touched, a silent plea for peace amidst the chaos, reminding of the unbearable cost of conflict.

Inputs by Sunzu Bachaspatimayum