In early June, an ambush on an Indian Army convoy in Manipur under the National Socialist Council of Nagaland (Khaplang) leadership was sensationalised by both the national and local media. It led to high debate, and the questioning of India’s strategy towards dealing with the North-east as well as its border relations with Myanmar.
Within 30 km of the same location lies the worst-affected area of this year’s monsoon: Joumol. Entire villages and roads have been washed away. That there was not even a rescue team in place for more than two days.
While the media is quick to project the North-east as a violent area, yet it is happy to ignore the hardships endured by the people of the during times of calamity.
Joumol, in the thick jungles of the Dingpi Ridge in Manipur was, until recently, a small hamlet of 23 houses.
Located in Chandel district, 73 km away from the nearest town along the Indo-Myanmar border, it takes two to three days of trekking through the jungle to reach the village. On August 1, Joumol lay buried under mud, joining the ranks of Pompeii — to live only in the narratives of future generations.
A panic-stricken villager who escaped the tragedy recounts the last minutes of what began like any ordinary morning. While he was cleaning his house, a few wall hangings suddenly fell off. Within seconds, his house slid down the hill. He managed to jump out and saw that the entire hill was sliding down. It swept everything away within seconds; all he could remember was clutching a log. When he regained consciousness, he saw his village buried two km down the hill. Covered in mud and unable to find any other survivor, he hobbled 10 km through the dense jungle to the nearest Army camp to report the incident.
Thankfully, most of Joumol’s inhabitants were not at home — they had gone to the nearest towns and cities — to schools, business, or other work. Only 19 people remained in the hamlet when the catastrophe struck. Nine survived. Five corpses are yet to be traced; they lie buried along with the debris of the village.
The only thing that remains today is the site of the mudslide, approximately 2 km in breadth and 3 km in width, as testimony to a forgotten village. Three days after the tragedy relief and evacuations reached the village.
Despite its historical prominence and strategic location, the frontier region of Dingpi has been forgotten by India. After Independence, insurgency became the mechanism to attract the attention of Indian leaders towards the north-eastern frontiers, and the United National Liberation Front declared Dingpi region as a ‘liberated zone’. The inhabitants underwent untold misery — thanks to landmines, bombs and constant shelling between the Indian Army and the heavily armed insurgents. Many people were maimed, some died, but no one received any compensation, as India and some insurgent groups have not signed the Mine Ban Treaty.
Not that life in Dingpi has ever been easy. Children have to trek two or three days to get schooling in the nearest Indian towns. The nearest markets are a day away by foot on the India-Myanmar border. The sick have to be carried on bamboo stretchers for two or three days to reach the nearest hospital. Electricity is still a dream and roads are few. Development and modernity seemed briefly within reach when the Border Road Task Force launched its projects in the early 1980s, but insurgency spoiled the hope for a better life.
Ironically, in official government records, a majority of the villages in this region have schools and health centres with teachers, doctors and nurses. The reality is different. Government offices can’t function since most of the officials are valley inhabitants who cannot even locate the hill villages they are posted to. The Indian Constitution and its Panchayati Raj institution is a mockery in the hill areas of Manipur.
If the BJP government has to stand by Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s much publicised intent to develop the North-east, Dingpi needs to be at the centre of government policies. The Indian government has announced Rs.10 crore for this year’s flood and monsoon victims of Manipur. Will interior villages such as Joumol get their share?
For over half a century, the mechanism of government has evaded this region.
The Dingpi Ridge is completely cut off from the rest of India, unless visited by air. Both the Chakpi Karong Bridge, the only bridge that connects Dingpi on the western side to the Imphal-Moreh road, and Asian Highway No.1, which connects to its northern side, have been washed away by the flooding and landslides.
It is time for Dingpi to be physically and emotionally re-introduced into the Indian mainland.
The Indian masses need to rise from the shackles of their myopic casteist mindsets and perspectives and reach out to the eastern border region in times of natural disasters and calamities, when they are most needed. Waiting for a quake like Nepal may be too late to show our solidarity and Indianism.
The writer author is a doctoral candidate at Manipur University. He can be reached at mikehaokip@gmail.com
