Another December returns : From Nupi Lan to today’s unrest The unbroken courage of Manipuri women

Nishikanta Sagolsem
“Another night has gone by,
Another day has passed.
O women, tie your hair—
Your tresses are flying in gay abandon.

Have you forgotten?
One December 12 has passed,
The next approaches.
Forget that this day may never return;
O women, tie your hair.”
Hijam Irabot Singh
Every time Manipur trembles, every time the land cries out, these lines of Irabot echo through the valley like an ancestral warning. They are no longer just a remembrance of December 12, 1939, when the women of Manipur rose against injustice of the mighty British Empire. Today, they resonate with a deeper urgency — an urgency born from the unrest, displacement, fear, and fractured harmony that mark present-day Manipur.
Jananeta Irabot’s poem is no longer just about the past. It is about now. It is about us. It is about the women who still stand at the frontlines.
History Repeating Itself : In 1904, and again in 1939, Manipuri women did what history rarely expects from them—they fought, they resisted, they protected. When the men were silenced, imprisoned, or powerless, the women tied their hair, stood shoulder to shoulder, and confronted empire and exploitation.
Today, the sounds are different — gunfire instead of colonial orders, fear instead of famine — but the soul of the struggle is the same. Manipur is in pain again. Families are separated. Houses are burnt. Entire communities live in camps, waiting for peace that seems to move further away each day. And once more, like the keithel mothers of old, the women rise.
“O women, tie your hair”—A Call for the Present Irabot’s “tie your hair” was not about grooming. It was about preparation. About readiness. About stepping into responsibility when the world collapses. Today, Meitei women have tied their hair again: standing guard at night in their Leikai gates, protecting their neighbourhoods, advocating for peace, helping the displaced, mediating in moments of chaos, and refusing to let violence define our land.
They are the voices demanding justice. They are the hands feeding the hungry. They are the shields against further destruction. Their courage becomes the continuation of Nupi Lan—not in the marketplace, but in the burning streets, the relief camps, the community kitchens, and the silent nights of watchfulness.
Women as the Memory-Keepers of the Land
“Have you forgotten?” Irabot asks. It is a question that strikes deeply today. Have we forgotten the unity we once had ? Have we forgotten the shared grief of 1891, of 1904, of 1939 ? Have we forgotten that we belong to the same land, the same sky, the same future ?
In moments when Manipur feels broken beyond recognition, it is often the women who remind society of its conscience. They remind the people:
“Ima gi Manipur asi eina pumnamakta leirammi.”
This land belongs to all of us.
While politics divides, women heal. While violence burns, women rebuild. While fear isolates, women unite.
Another December Is Here
Irabot wrote, “One December 12 has passed, the second is approaching.”
He was speaking about the second Nupi Lan. But today, these words gain a new meaning.
Another December has come — not one marked by a colonial famine, but by a humanitarian crisis of our own time.
The poem becomes a prophecy. The past becomes a mirror. History becomes a teacher. And the women of Manipur, once again, become the torch bearers of resilience.
Just like the Ima Keithel warriors of the past, modern Meitei women have stepped into roles that history forces upon them: They guard their localities, negotiate tensions, and prevent violence from escalating. From preparing food in community kitchens to supporting displaced families, they hold society together. They call for unity, for justice, for peace—not through politics, but through lived experience and moral authority. They refuse to let Manipur forget its own identity, dignity, and cultural wisdom. Even in unrest, they choose presence over weapons, solidarity over division, echoing the spirit of Nupi Lan.
The Unbroken Thread
If we trace the history of Manipur’s struggles, one thread remains unbroken — the courage of its women. From the fields of Khongjom to the markets of Imphal to the burning lanes of today, their spirit has never wavered.
Irabot’s words have become a timeless anthem:
“O women, tie your hair.”
Tie it not as ornament, but as armour.
Tie it because resistance is not new to you.
Tie it because Manipur still needs you.
Tie it because every December reminds us that your courage is the backbone of this land.