Kids' posers on home haunt displaced mother
Source: Chronicle News Service / Graciya Chanambam / Brenda Naorem

Imphal, July 22 2025: "When my children ask me when we will return home, I get lost.

I cannot find an answer," said a displaced woman sheltering at Akampat relief camp in Imphal East.

The question, repeated almost every day by her young children since they fled Moreh on May 3, 2023, remains the hardest one she faces even today.

Speaking to this daily, the woman recalled how her family's life was upended after the violent mob attack in Moreh forced them to abandon everything.

More than two years later, the uncertainty remains unchanged, with no clear path home and no concrete rehabilitation policy in sight.

Kids' posers on home haunt displaced mother

Although the government had assured closure of relief camps and the resettlement of internally displaced persons (IDPs), those displaced from Moreh, Churachandpur and Kangpokpi have been told they would be relocated to prefabricated houses, which she and many others cannot accept.

"If the government wants to close the relief camps, let us return to our homes.

We cannot move into prefab structures," she said, expressing the growing frustration among the displaced communities.

Life in the camp has been difficult.

Many families survive by doing menial jobs just to afford food and keep their children in school.

Some women try to make household items and sell them door-to-door or by the roadside, but they are often met with rejection.

"We are not welcome," she said, urging the government to introduce a marketing policy or provide dedicated space where displaced people can sell their products without fear or humiliation.

Despite the hardships, she said that children at the camp are still pursuing education.

Many have passed their Class 10 and Class 12 board exams in the first division, attending private schools amid financial strain.

However, she noted that private tuition remains unaffordable, leaving many parents feeling helpless about their children's future.

"We do not know what plans the government has for our children.

We see money being spent on prefab houses in the foothills, but not on our proper rehabilitation and security," she alleged.

The woman also recalled her daughter's traumatic experience during the first day of violence in Moreh.

Her daughter, who had been studying at a school run by the Kuki community and staying at its hostel, was injured while trying to flee and got her most horrifying experience of life.

"She has not recovered from the shock even now and is still on medication," the mother said, her voice trembling.

Another critical concern she raised was the lack of proper healthcare access for displaced families.

"We cannot afford to visit hospitals.

Doctors do come to the camp, but they only treat and prescribe medicine for seasonal illnesses.

For anything that needs hospitalisation or proper diagnostic tests, we are left with no option," she rued.

As months drag on, uncertainty continues to cloud the future of hundreds of displaced families.

For many like the woman at Akampat relief camp, the only demand is to be allowed to return home with adequate security, and for the government to treat their rehabilitation not as a temporary shelter plan, but as a matter of dignity and justice.