Negotiating Stigma: Narratives of Displaced Children of the Kuki–Naga Ethnic Conf lict

Introduction

The management of one’s identity constitutes an important process of adjustment with the social environment. For people belonging to a stigmatised social group the management of identity involves the creative strategy of defense known as passing (Goffman, 1986). Hitch (1983) defines the act of passing stigma as the process of concealment or downplaying of one’s origin. This act of passing is a means by which stigmatised people navigate their lives in the face of being excluded owing to certain attributes unique to them. The attributes can be the result of the legacy of their parents, ethnicity, status of living or social origin. In the interactional activity, the act of passing helps one build a resistance against the negative consequences of stigma. The children of displaced survivors from Kuki community of the Kuki–Naga ethnic conflict exhibit creative means of enduring the challenges of stigma labelled against them. While poverty as a result of the violence and displacement are yet to be fully mitigated, their upbringing in new places as members of displaced community entail everyday challenges of stigma in the forms of name-calling and exclusion from proper social relationships with others. The culture of fear and violence in the state of Manipur reinforces the notion of stigma imposed upon these people. However, memory-work prevailing within the families or among the community with a shared experience of suffering acts as an important mechanism of resilience that importantly constitutes one’s effort of learning family history. It is through the transmission of memories and the development of a sense of responsibility to one’s family memories that children could withstand the continuing spectre of violence and stigma.

Context of the Study: The Kuki–Naga Conflict (1992–1997)

This study is concerned with children of the aftermath of the Kuki–Naga ethnic conflict of the nineties in different north-eastern states of India. This period was a tumultuous time for India, particularly the Northeast region, as the borderland states witnessed an alarming increase of insurgent groups based on ethnicity with different political imaginations. There were also several conflicts between different ethnic groups of different states of the region. The issue began with varying crisis such as autonomy and boundaries (Haokip, 2013). According to Fernandes (2006), the conflicts in Manipur including the Naga–Kuki and Naga–Meitei conflicts are due to the conflicting issues of asserting for land and resources. While the Kuki–Naga conflict seemingly came to a halt with violence gradually subsiding by the later part of the nineties, a culture of fear and suspicion became inherent between these two tribal communities (Unnithan & Deka, 2012). The conflict of this study was infamous for being the most destructive, lengthiest and most widespread as it extended beyond Manipur to other states such as Nagaland and Assam (Haokip, 2013). Spanning for more than half of a decade, it took a toll of thousands of lives, and displacement of people from hundreds of villages. In a memorandum submitted to the Prime Minister of India, Kuki Inpi Manipur, a civil body of the Manipur Kuki population, claims that more than 1,000 Kukis were killed, 360 villages uprooted and the lives of over 100, 000 people were reduced to a state of homelessness (Kipgen, 2013).

These figures show the inevitability of a lasting impact of the violence in the forms of poverty, fear, stigma and a cycle of violence. However, a review of the existing literatures on Kuki–Naga conflict reveals the lack of proper analysis due to certain reservation or biasness. Also, the works of various disciplines on this particular conflict are concentrated on the spectacle or extraordinary nature of violence and the causes (Haokip, 2013). The lack of literature on the disrupted everyday lives of the people impacted and transformed by violence is a concern that requires urgent attention in terms of mitigation of challenges, including the possibility of endemic violence and poverty, as well as in the domain of scholarly approach. More than two decades later, survivors continue to navigate their day to day lives in the midst of chaos and disruption triggered by this violence. While the challenges of poverty continue to hinder their pursuit of a living condition of the nostalgic past, stigmatisation continues to remind them of a sense of victimisation and shame. For Kuki children of the displaced community, the stigma of ‘refugee’ nonchalantly imposed upon them by friends or neighbours becomes a grim reminder of a culture of violence to which their family or social circles are often associated with. Drawing inspiration from the intersection of kinship and memory studies, the study is concerned with creativity and resilience inherent in the children of displaced families as they endure the difficult transformation triggered by the critical event of violence (Das, 2007).

Research Methodology

Based on observation and in-depth interviews with individuals having a childhood experiences of being brought up in a displaced family in the aftermath of the Kuki–Naga conflict, this study was intended to understand the challenges of poverty and stigma and the daily negotiation carried out by children of displaced families. A snowball method of sampling was used in choosing participants for this study. The aftermath of the Kuki–Naga conflict set into motion a cycle of violence. Displaced communities in different parts of the state could no longer sustain the stability of a desirable home. This also led to the involvement of many youths of the nineties to take up arms. Two decades later, narratives of children brought up in such a hostile environment constitute themes of individual and community resilience against various impeding factors unique to a post-violent society. Participants in this study are victims of such impediments. While some of them have the experiences of either a father or brother being involved in the insurgency movement, all of them share similar experiences of being brought up in a displaced family due to the violence. Poor living condition, school drop-out, premature entry into the workforce along with parents, and involvement in insurgency movement are the different experiences of participants in the study.

Violence, Memory and the Altered Lives

The culture of fear following traumatic violence contains a strong sense of insecurity and suspicion that challenges one’s daily existences (Jara, 2016) and also shapes the inextricable relationship of an individual’s memory with that of the collective including the family and the community (Gómez-Barris, 2009). Devised as a tool for domination, fear is channelised through the colonisation of the language and everyday routines of the society (Feitlowitz, 1999). Inhabiting such a social and cultural landscape of fear introduces a new mode of living that includes the conversion of fear into a generalised feeling, resulting in the affective distinction of ‘us and them’ (Constable & Valenzuela, 1993), and the uncomfortable way of life based on suspicion and fear of the other (Das, 2007). This highlights how violence of the nineties triggered a sense of fear and othering among people of the two tribal communities of Manipur. While the vicious cycle of violence continue to harness different forms of challenges to the displaced, their burdens are worsened as they began to face stigmatisation owing to their new identity based on their status as displaced individual or community. In the case of this study, this destructive process of stigma is inherent to all displaced individuals and families irrespective of their new place of settlement. This highlights how the impact of violence continues to extend its venom in the family and society through the culture of fear and stigma.

Events of violence transform or alter the mode of sociality in a society and entail the penetration of the spectres of the larger political situation into the realm of the families or individuals (Das, 2007). In a similar vein, Carsten (2007) rightfully observes that the history of kinship is a political history. The present volatile nature of the borderland states of India’s Northeast region is an important context to redefine violence and its impact on the various ethnicities of these states. However, the resounding nature of spectacle violence blurs the need to concentrate on the systemic process (Zizek, 2008). The preoccupation of sociologists and anthropologists with spectacle violence (Spencer, 2007) complicate our understanding of its objective nature. The less visible effects of violence permeate the everyday lives of the individual and community in the form of poverty, a culture of fear, and othering.

Another resonant theme in the study of violence is the notion of traumatic memories common in the diagnostic categories used in the discipline of psychiatry. In this approach to violence and trauma, the notion of individual autonomy and agency are given emphasis while neglecting the socio-centric nature of human being (Lewis-Fernandez & Kleinman, 1994). However, the collective aspect of memory (Halbwachs, 1980) and its inextricable relationship with kinship and identity formulation offer a more appropriate approach to understand how an individual and community develop resilience in the aftermath of violence. The practice of memory-work is an important tool of resistance as well as regeneration (Carsten, 2007; Empson, 2007). From narratives to performances, the transmission of memories between different generations can withstand contesting memories imposed by other agencies or the state. Therefore, the layer of kinship or family becomes an important site of rebuilding lives in the aftermath of violence. Prioritising the significance of memory in and beyond the family, this article focuses on how displaced children creatively endure the everyday challenges of poverty and a culture of fear complicated by the prevalent experiences of stigmatisation.

Everyday Challenges of Poverty and Stigma

Kim was born in the year 1989, at Chahkap village of Ukhrul district. It was during the initial part of the genocide, in 1992, when the threat of ethnic conflict was evolving into a reality, that they arrived to Imphal. During the period of conflict, several villagers from different districts of Manipur such as Ukhrul and Tamenglong were scattered all over the state. For Kim’s parents, Imphal was the last resort as they had a relative to arrange an accommodation in a small room. Losing his source of livelihood, the father took up a daily labour job in a construction site. Through some benevolent neighbours, he was later suggested to continue providing for the family as a rickshaw puller. Her mother looked after the siblings while also continuing weaving traditional shawls and clothes that earned them meagre yet indispensable amount. After the demise of her father in 1999, the family had gone through another transition and the responsibility of the household fell upon the mother who was compelled to make a decision to move to Churachandpur district. Another breakdown in the family took place in the year 2006 when her mother left the children leaving the responsibility of the household to the hands of Kim who was still a teenage then.

Kim’s childhood memories reveal the challenges of poverty and stigma. It also shows how relatedness serve an individual or family in their times of disparity. Along with children of some other displaced families in their neighbourhood she formed her childhood bond of friendship. Narratives of kholui (former village) are a significant theme during their conversations. Even for a child without a vivid memory of the natal village, parents’ constant recall of old homes and their nostalgic remembrance of the serenity and abundance before displacement constitute a vital element of the transmitted memories. Being in the company of peers with the same experience of displacement and poverty was generally preferred to other social circles including children of their streets. This was because of the sense of a shared experience of hardship.

As a child Kim experienced the shame of being always at the receiving end of charity works around her new locality in Imphal. She asserts that the attitude of the giver inscribed a notion of ‘be grateful for whatever you receive’ upon the displaced communities. This reinforced the idea that these displaced communities were left with no choice but to adhere to whatever was imposed upon them. It is evident in her statement

When we were given clothes and utensils upon our arrival, I overheard one of the philanthropic activists mumbling that the sizes of the clothes do not matter. To them it seems we were supposed to receive whatever was given to us. We continue to live in different places bearing the shame of being called refugee. I tried my best to avoid being marked with such label by working hard at school. It also brought me confidence whenever I achieve good results. I feel normal with such grades. But when I go home, I reminded myself that I am not like others. I need to put more efforts. My mom also assured that there were many like us and that I have to avoid luxury my friends have.

While passing the stigma is exhibited through Kim’s efforts of being at par with other students through a good performance in the examinations, the stigma of being a displaced community is what resounds daily at home. In the locality, the stigma of being displaced recurred on a daily basis. To neighbours, they were a menace to the society. Despite her knowing of the relevance of education to counter the label of stigma, Kim was forced to give up education after her twelve standards. The problems of poverty, manifested in the forms of everyday activities such as the shame of being without complete study materials, delayed fees, and incomplete uniforms, created a sense of chasm between Kim and her classmates, while also reinforcing the notion of stigma. After dropping out from school, Kim continued to provide for her siblings by opening a shop until she found a job as a school teacher in a local school. Her story of persistence and hard work reveals the creativity of an individual in facing the obstacles of poverty.

I began teaching the nurseries and younger students of a high school in our town from 2010 to 2013. I had completed 10th standard when I began and continued till I passed my Class 12. So despite the pain of losing my parents, I had to aggravate myself to look after the needs of my siblings and myself. Along with prayers to God, I moved on. In 2014 I was engaged in some other occupations and took a leave from teaching. My business consisted of selling firewood and vegetables which I continued for the whole year. In 2015 I resumed my teaching profession in the same school. As the teacher’s salary was not enough to sustain the needs of my siblings, I decided to sell vegetables in the morning after which I was engaged for the whole day at the school. So after every school hour I would go home happily with enough money to buy something for the siblings waiting impatiently at home. Owing to the demands of home, I quit the job of teaching and joined an embroidery training through some local NGOs from the Catholic church. However, I could not afford a machine, therefore my skills were in vain. Desperately, I took up a business of selling clothes and curtains. At a regular interval I went to Nagaland along with my aunty to collect clothes, bedsheets and curtains and sell them at my newly established shop. Gradually the establishment attained such a progress that I was finally able to borrow a tailoring machine. The business then remained stable and I was able to work on my own, without anyone’s supervision. With such freedom I was also able to take part in some social activities of the church. I joined the church choir of our locality. Being in the choir was important to me because as a woman running a business people generally felt that we are indifferent to a spiritual life. Daytime I was engaged in my humble shop, and at night I joined the choir for the practice of songs for the ensuing Sundays. Sadly, I could not continue with this because I had to give back the machine. Moreover, with the growing financial demand I was in no way able to afford the sustenance of the family. I would need at least 3 to 4 machine to make the business successful. In 2016 one of my sisters got married. I was then bereft of a helping hand. And it was during these times business dwindled. However, fortunately my sister was called to be a housemaid to a family in the city. The same family looks after the financial needs of my brother. We admitted him to a boarding and I was finally able to pursue my dream of coming to Delhi.

With the assurance of a relative who assured to help me find a livelihood in the city, I arrived in Delhi in 2017. However, communication was a problem and I could not find a job. These extra efforts were really hard for a woman. My journey all through those years was filled with several experiences of shame due to my extra effort for the family. Leaving Manipur was really difficult. I was filled with loneliness and found problems in adjustment. This distant relative of mine is married to a North Indian and they were running a grocery business in Gandhi Vihar. They provided me shelter and in return I look after the shop. Honestly, I found the work too hectic as my role was more burdened with daily household chores in order to give her time to look after her new born baby. By the end of the year, in December, I was paid some amount as a token of gratitude. With that amount I went home to spend the winter festivity with my siblings. I was also able to repair some parts of our old house. It was a source of great pleasure to finally buy a new tin roof for the house. I came back to Delhi to open my own shop with whatever money I had and I believe and pray that I will be able to sustain my stay here for a while.

The narratives of Kim highlight the inextricability of kinship and survival. Her aunt’s assistance in her business, the space provided by a relative upon her arrival in Delhi and the shared responsibilities between the siblings are a strategy to enable her coping and negotiation. Her participation in the social such as the choir shows how the passing of stigma was attempted for a brief phase. However the demand for survival and her responsibilities to the need of the siblings demanded more serious attention. She continues,

I want them (siblings) to live with dignity that we had before leaving Ukhrul home. It is the same thing my parents would have done. So I have many things pending ahead of me. The first is my brother’s career. In the meantime it is my responsibility to further the renovation of our house. Our house is in shamble. One day it will not look like that of a ‘galjam’ (violence-induced displaced person). I will also erect a smart tombstone for my father because he is buried far away from his native place. At least a proper tomb must compensate for it.

Despite the challenges of stigma and poverty, children growing up in the post-conflict society find solidarity and commitment through their experience of sufferings. This echoes Butler’s (2003) notion of the ethics of responsibility and the development of strong affiliation from vulnerability. At this critical juncture kinship provides a safe haven to members of a family as they look after one another in every possible ways. It was also the concern for a kin that one takes up certain responsibilities as reflected in the life of Kim. Her concern with her siblings and the help they rendered to one another shows how the fabric of a family, despite being heavily affected by violence, provide a support to her resilience. Moreover, family memories are given proper attention too. Kim’s commitment to erect a tombstone in remembrance of her father shows how poverty and stigma cannot override one’s commitment to family memory and legacy.

Like Kim who held it as an obligation to properly bury her father, and continue looking after the family, there were several individuals with similar history focusing on the everyday need of the family. Len arrived in Delhi in the year 2012 to pursue graduation. His parents’ poor financial condition owing to their displacement from Chandel district to Churachandpur forced him to look toward Delhi in order to complete his study while supporting himself by working the night-shift in a hotel. After his graduation in 2016, he joined a call centre at Gurugram while also preparing for competitive exam to land into a government job. He looked forward to providing to the needs of his widowed mother. Taking up a job at a call centre in Delhi, he meticulously schedules his daily routine in order to prepare for competitive exams to land into a proper government job. He said:

Life as a displaced is difficult. The stigma at home and in the city due to racism are nothing when I remember the responsibilities I have toward my family. Before the war they lived comfortably. My mother is still in need of that status and it is our duty to help her achieve it.

Kim and Len recall years of struggles and resilience against the lasting spectre of violence. While their childhood memories were fraught with bitter experience of stigmatisation by neighbours and peers at school, family history and parents’ narratives of home shaped their sense of identity as a displaced person. Memories of their former homes or villages were strongly prevalent in the intergenerational transmission of memories. It developed a strong degree of solidarity with other displaced persons too. Their solidarity and commitment to such memories inspired activism as they sincerely take active part in various philanthropic works organised by the Kuki community in Delhi.

Pao and Lun, both displaced from Tamenglong district to Kangpokpi town of Manipur in 1994, barely completed their lower primary school when poverty forced them to join their parents’ work. For Pao, his father’s work as a carpenter helped him adjust and adapt with a source of livelihood. He reported that school had never been his favourite place because of his inability to cope with an English medium of classes in the midst of people much younger than himself. He states, ‘they were too young for me and it is shameful to be less smarter than them’.

The inability of Pao’s parents to clear his fees added to the burden. Similarly, for Lun, there was an inherent stigma at school because of his poor background and family history of displacement. However, a sense of responsibility toward home modulated the gravity of stigma. The passing of stigma was not prolonged as they chose to accept a legacy of their parents. Their understanding of family history through experiences as well as the transmission of memories from parents, developed into a strong affective relationship (Lira, 2011). This affection brought with it a strong sense of responsibility while also keeping them committed to their family history despite the challenges of stigma. This is clearly evident in Lun’s narratives,

I remember being abusive with my behaviors at home as I could not fulfil any criteria, be it books or uniforms, at school. My friend Pao had the same experience as me. We were often called out during the assembly for incomplete uniforms or delayed payment of fees. It was shameful for a while. But I did not protest against my father’s decision when he asked me to quit my studies and assist him in his work. As a child I had always thought that following his occupation was an important part of myself. I was skilful with it too.

Accepting the Legacy of the Family

Affective ties of the children with families, family memories, and objects including places, are always in a process of development. This is strongly inspired through the inextricability of memory, place and kinship (Empson, 2007). Therefore, while the stain in a parent’s identity exposes the children to risk of exclusion or stigma, the predominant narrative of home can still withstand the child’s tendency to develop a feeling of guilt or shame. Among the displaced community of this study, it was found that involvement of a family member in insurgent movement is a common feature. Robert’s story is a perfect example of how children of an insurgent negotiate their way through the complexities involving parent’s legacy. It was in the year 2007 that his father’s mortal remains was laid to rest amidst a thunderous gun salute and in the presence of a large crowd. Obituaries of the day and exhortation from the congregation that attended the funeral assured twelve years old Robert that his father was a respected figure in the community. This realisation is in contrast to the daily experience of shame he had gone through at school. He narrates,

I have never talked with my father about why he joined the insurgency. But he made it absolutely clear that he was a displaced person who arrived in Saikul town after having witnessed people mercilessly butchered and houses destroyed to ashes. Upon his arrival to this town in 1993 neither education nor proper livelihood was possible because of poverty and landlessness. However he was smart and well-versed with the use of guns as well as the terrain of the hilly landscape as a young man. So some insurgent leaders managed to get through to him and as a man filled with vengeance for what he had seen he was not unwilling to join the group. According to my mother, it was after few months of my birth that he joined the group. They were seen as a heroic figure that saved several Kuki villages from being extinct during the nineties. But that did not last long because as the ethnic conflict came to an end they were seen by the community as troublesome and a menace to the society. I still remember some classmates disliking me because their parents hated my father. I have always had an uneasy feeling and a sense of discomfort at school. I was in high school when a firing took place between two insurgent groups. Even though my father’s name did not appear in the newspaper, I was sure that everyone knew it was my father who was involved with it. Moreover, there were extortions and monetary demands frequently made by his group. This aroused hatred amongst the community. Therefore, even though I was not being told very often, the stigma was felt. The information was in all around us as my grandmother would say that ‘the walls have ears too’.

The stains of being a child of a militant exposed Robert to stigmatisation. Like Robert, there were several participants who reported being marked at several occasions. However, these children have exhibited their own way of enduring stigma through their knowledge of family history as transmitted by their parents. Esther was a high school student in her eight standard when news of her father’s arrest became public through the morning newspaper. She recalls:

We received the shameful news in the morning before I went for class. It was shameful to see picture of my father in the newspaper being blindfolded with some accomplices. They were not apparently recognisable, but somebody who read would know that it was my father. I was afraid and concerned about his safety. But the more disturbing blow came when I had to dress up for school the same morning. I tried my best to avoid friends on the way to school, while back at home people kept coming. I had a feeling that not every guest that day was genuinely concerned about my father because there were people from the church who always preached against the faction and violence. At school during the assembly, I was quite silent unlike other days. No greetings and chatting like the regular days. I remember that every whispers and voices that day always alerted and gave me the impression that they were talking about me. I had the most uncomfortable feeling of being subjected to a topic of gossip because even though my father’s identity was not fully revealed to friends from school, there were some friends from the locality who went to the same school with me. So I was afraid that the relationship would be made public. At home and among family members I came to learn that it was not something to hide because my uncles and grandmother always talk about what kind of person he was. Even most of the church leaders still respected him too.

Children like Esther and Robert continue to face a series of subjugation in their everyday lives. The legacy of parents’ and family memory of violence continue to have an inalienable impact. The feeling of being marked or being stained (Jara, 2016), in the midst of other community or their peers who had had no experiences of such stigmas, generally compelled them to avoid others as a strategy of passing for a brief period (Goffman, 1986). However, their commitment and solidarity with parents’ memory helped them override a further need for fully concealing their identity. Memories play a significant role in re-strengthening their identity. This is also revealed from the experiences of Thomas who has a similar background with the former two. Thomas states

I totally object the idea of violence and ethnic conflict. But I believe that my brother had died for a cause. It was after his death that I reconciled with our family’s spell of curses. Neighbours would usually say that my parents were cursed. They take my brother’s death as the consequence.

Thomas’ eldest brother joined the arm movement in the year 1996. His induction added burden to the parents as they managed to rebuild home after a violent displacement from Tamenglong district of Manipur. After his death the parents felt being disturbed by the prevalent neighbour’s gossip of ‘a cursed family’. For Thomas, it was a challenge he took positively to counter such stigma-induced narratives. He managed to land himself into a government job and this was a source of huge relief for the long afflicted parents. As an educated person, Thomas claims that he is still active with community and philanthropic service within and beyond Kuki society. His inspiration for such participation is affectively connected to the memory of his brother who had also chosen to serve the community, albeit in a different approach.

Similar to Kim and other children of the displaced community, children of militant, both deceased and retirees, see a strong sense of affective relationship with their parent’s story. While giving into arms was not the preferable method for the children, their passing of stigma did not fully allow them to sever ties with family histories and the cause that their father or siblings sacrificed for. Lira’s (2011) work also reflects a similar finding where, despite the shame of bearing family legacy of stain and being marked, they did not choose to remain indifferent to the issue of the conflict.

Jara (2016) suggests that children inherit political stigmas and identities of the family. It is a stain on their identity. Goffman’s (1986) notion of passing would imply a child’s anxiety to ensure a belonging to the dominant frame of values in the society. From the stories of Robert, Esther and Thomas, it is apparent that father’s or family member’s involvement with insurgency movement puts the child’s identification at a risk. However there is also an alternative in the form of mimicry or simulation (Ashcroft et al., 1995; Jara, 2016). Contrary to the assimilation suggested by Goffman (1986), an individual choosing the alternative responds to dominations that appear as passing from a particular layer of perspective. However, the strong loyalty and responsibility born out of the transmission of memories as well as one’s lived experiences cannot be outweighed in the face of hegemonic notion. This echoes Butler’s (2003) popular idea of affiliation inspired by the experiences of vulnerability.

Remembering to Rebuild

Chavangphai village in the Indo-Myanmar border town of Tengnoupal district is home to the displaced communities from different villages of Ukhrul district of Manipur, who were forcefully dislocated from their home at the beginning of the ethnic conflict in 1992. In 2017 November the villagers commemorated the twenty-fifth anniversary of their arrival to Moreh town and the establishment of the village. The event marked an important milestone in the history of Chavangphai as villagers collectively recall the names of the deceased members. For children of the village, it was an important event of relearning their history of struggles against the difficulties of violence and poverty. A souvenir published on the occasion contains songs and stories of the establishment. For children born after the settlement, it was a history book to remind them of the struggles of their parents as well as their seniors. The stories narrated and songs written for the occasion reveal the truthfulness of everyday parents’ narratives of survival at home. The public display of remembrance affirms that their elders were a resilient community overcoming hardship of violence and losses. While the general or dominant notion against Chavangphai villagers were always a form of stigmatisation, the event finally brought clarity to the complexities. Listening to elders’ narratives of their old homes and reading the souvenir enables the younger generation, born much after the displacement, to understand the complexities surrounding version of Chavangphai they have learned through stigmatisation.

Twenty years old John belongs to the younger generation of Chavangphai as described above. As a college going student, he was often bombarded with questions regarding the authenticity of rumours and stigma surrounding Chavangphai village. However, the narratives prevalent during the commemoration as well as family memories of the violence and displacement from Ukhrul district provide John with the knowledge and conviction to resist the diminishing power of stigma. As the youngest of 5 children in the family he was endowed with the opportunity to pursue his studies under the support of his father and eldest brother who runs a small business in the border town. To assist the parents in supporting the family the eldest brother gave up education before completing high school. His first daily income was received as a labourer involved in the transportation of goods for traders across the border gate in Moreh town. For children around the town it was an opportunity as it did not require skills. However, the involvement of children into such kind of livelihood placed them at a risk against several forms of deviance. As they began earning at an early age they realised their own sense of independence from parents. Their long absence from home and the development of strong bond with peers at work slowly paved way for intoxicants and other indulgences. John’s brother was a victim of such indulgences leading to his brief involvement with an insurgency group operating around the town. After his rehabilitation through a church pastor his parents financially supported him to help him earn for himself.

Leaving high school prematurely and joining the parent in their livelihood activities are common to children of displaced families in Chavangphai and Moreh town. Like John’s brother, such early involvement with work and frequent absence from home paved way for the diminishing authority of parents over child. As each families began their new lives in unfamiliar place and ways of work, school drop-out or child labour were never given a second thought. Their daily struggles against the challenges of poverty obscured the critical nature of other problems. However for the younger generation like John, parental or familial support was ready by the time they join high school. In comparison, one can find an improvement in the social environment between John and his brother’s period of childhood. As episodes of violence permeate deep into the social fabric of the society, norms and values are altered to foster a resilient culture of violence. This new culture promotes or tolerates violence in the society (Scheper-Hughes & Bourgois, 2004; Steenkamp, 2005).

Stories of the middle-aged adults like Mark and John’s brother testify to the rampant culture that did not resist violence as a norm or values. Mark of Chavangphai village had been through the same trajectory as John’s brother. However, he had managed to complete a post-graduate degree from a reputed university. His persistence to earn a degree after several years of break was a testimony for the youths of Chavangphai. He states,

Children who have witnessed the violence and early days of Chavangphai village are unfortunate. You cannot blame them for what they are now. Children of today are fortunate because they can do whatever they want to. Back in our times it was only work. We were also very close to one another. People from our neighbouring village and the town were afraid of us because when it comes to fight we were brave and always ready. Chavangphai was infamous because of us.

Stories of Mark and John reflect the difficult period that villagers of Chavangphai had to endure. From traumatic experiences of violence and painfully parting with home, the villagers of Chavangphai went through a long period of hardships in the form of homelessness, poverty, separation with kin and a breakdown of family and social values. Therefore stigmatisation and the questions of identity bothering the younger ones like John are not a surprise to the elders. The commemoration was an enlightening event to reflect on how the larger political event penetrates deep into the fabric of the family. As a settlement for displaced families, the village had been constantly under suspicion by neighbouring villages. In the year 1995, a misunderstanding with their neighbours from Tamil-speaking community of Moreh town instigated communal tension resulting in the loss of four lives and destruction of several houses. This happened at a critical period as the new settlers of Chavangphai were yet to recover from the trauma and realities of poverty. While this particular conflict with their neighbours was resolved amicably, the event imprinted in the minds of the displaced as well as their other neighbours that a sense of stigmatisation has always been rampant. For the younger generations of Chavangphai village, a lot of complexities surrounding memories of their family and the community are yet to be explored. Therefore, events like the commemoration and the daily narratives of parents or elders in the domestic realm of the mundane affairs are vital to their learning processes. In their work on memories, Hirsch and Spitzer (2003) define nostalgic memories as a form of resistance. It is an instrument to reinforce an identity. Memory become a tool of refashioning perspectives and strengthening collectiveness within a group (Carsten, 2007; Empson, 2007; Jara, 2016). In Chavangphai too, nostalgic tales of home and stories of abundance and fraternity that had existed in their old homes of Ukhrul district are testament against the prevailing stigma attached to the people of Chavangphai. Kinship sociality and narratives of home resist the dehumanising work of stigma and sense of victimisation.

Conclusion

Underneath the layer of suspicion and stigmatisation, there exists in Chavangphai village, a rich interweaving of memories and strong nostalgia for the hilly terrain of their native place. Elders occasionally gathered around to write songs in remembrance of their old tradition permitted by the vast stretches of land under their authority. Such narratives were also passed onto the grandchildren or the younger generation. These narratives evoke the tranquillity of old homes and the strong form of relationship that had existed then. But it is also with the undertone of pain that such memories are often recalled. On the occasion of the commemoration in 2017 participants witnessed a festival of story-telling by elders. For a person regularly fed with rumours about his own family and villagers, the event marked an important point of departure from the common narrative that vulgarise their suffering and inappropriately labels them wayward and dependent. John’s exposure to classmates from different communities imprinted a negative idea about his village. The intergenerational transmission of memories, fully backed by the commemoration, override the impediments of stigma while encouraging more affective investment in kinship. It also inspires in the mind of the children a great sense of responsibility (Butler, 2003; Lira, 2011) to the familial and social relationship against the disruptive nature of poverty and stigma. Such an outcome of affective tie is also evident in all the other stories described in this article. Narratives strongly inspire the regeneration of family and social values. Thus, the passing of stigma are momentary and never chosen as the last resort because one’s sense of loyalty and responsibility gain predominance with transmission of memories.

The article shows the interrelationship between memory and kinship. It also highlights how the social and political atmosphere of a place never fails to permeate the layers of family relationship. While it can bring disruption to the continuity of lives and serenity of home, resilience inherent in a person and in the family or society are strongly capable of reformulating lives. As the depressing culture of violence, fear and poverty dominates the sociocultural environment and common narratives labelled against the displaced families, one can also observe the efficiency of relatedness and responsibility emerging from these families.