From Tulsa with love: Remembering friendship and faith amid Manipur’s crisis
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Manoranjan Haobam
In 2005, I was deputed to Tulsa, Oklahoma, USA, as part of my job with IBM Global Services. Tulsa may not be a large American city, but it holds significance as a hub for the oil and gas industry. It also lies at the heart of what is known as the Bible Belt - a region where conservative evangelical Protestant Christianity strongly shapes the social and cultural fabric. One of Tulsa’s well-known institutions is Oral Roberts University (ORU), a private evangelical university founded in 1963 by charismatic Christian preacher Oral Roberts. ORU draws students from across the globe who come to deepen their Christian faith and study theology. During my stay in Tulsa, I had the privilege of meeting many individuals from Manipur - including Naga, Kuki, and Meitei - who had come to the university in pursuit of spiritual growth and education. Some families, after completing their studies, chose to settle in the city and serve as pastors for churches that support new immigrants. Today, Tulsa is home to a vibrant community from Manipur, particularly from the Kuki community. I had the unique opportunity to live among the Kuki community for five years, and their warmth and generosity left a lasting impression on my family and me.
As I reflect today, in the shadow of the devastating Kuki-Meitei conflict that has plagued Manipur since May 2023 - a conflict that has polarized communities, spread hatred across social media, and torn apart relationships - the memories of my time in Tulsa offer a reminder that peaceful coexistence is not only possible but deeply rewarding.
Inspired by Dr Raj Singh’s moving piece, "From Hostility to Healing: Why Meitei and Kuki Must Take Ownership of Peace", published in the Sangai Express (July 11, 2025), I feel compelled to share the story of my Kuki friends in Tulsa - people who were like family when we were far from home.
Meeting Hegin Haokip: A Brother in the Desert
I first met Hegin Haokip unexpectedly during a Friday evening grocery run with my wife, Joyshree. In a small Indian store, we were speaking in Meiteilon when a cheerful voice suddenly asked, “Manipur dagi natro?” (“Are you from Manipur?”). That was Hegin. His joy was genuine - as though two long-lost brothers had reunited in a desert. The very next day, he came to our apartment bearing utensils (including a cast iron wok, “Khang”) to help us settle in. That simple act of kindness marked the beginning of a deep friendship.
Hegin loved the typical Manipuri sense of humor and often laughed heartily at our jokes. On one occasion, when we were preparing to visit Imphal, he wanted us to take a gift for the popular actor Olen (known as “Ta-Tomba” at the time). He deeply admired Olen's simplicity and talent.
To this day, the “Khang” Hegin gave us is still in use in our kitchen in Calgary, Canada - a quiet but enduring reminder of his generosity and friendship.
Seikam Touthang: A Host to the Community
Another unforgettable friend was Seikam Touthang, whom I respectfully called “Tamo Seikam.” He lived in Tulsa with his wife Lalam, their two sons, and three daughters. A warm and generous man, he never failed to invite us to every Kuki community event- be it a Kut festival, a family gathering, or Friday evening games.
Tamo Seikam’s home was a welcoming hub, almost like a community hall. He especially loved cooking and delighted in feeding everyone. I fondly remember long drives to nearby towns to buy fresh goat meat, followed by lively feasts at his house. His kindness and concern for my family left a deep impression. Even when we missed events, his calls conveyed genuine care.
Sei Touthang: A Gentle Soul with Deep Faith
Then there was Sei Touthang, my contemporary and dear friend, whom we affectionately called “Oja.” A gentle, learned church leader, Sei’s sermons left a profound impact on both American and immigrant congregants alike.
We often debated spiritual questions - “Do we go to heaven when we die?” “Does God monitor our actions?” What moved me most was his belief that our relationship with God should not be one of convenience. As he wisely said, “A friend who remembers you only when they’re in trouble is not a true friend. We must remember God through both joy and sorrow”. Sei was there for my family during some of our most difficult times, offering strength and comfort. Our bond endured even after we left Tulsa; he later visited us in Calgary after six years.
Conclusion: Let us rebuild - not just our homes, but our hearts.
As I recount these memories, it pains me to see how religion has also become a dividing force - labeling people as Hindu, Christian, or Muslim, and fueling hatred and violence, including the horrors unfolding in Manipur. But true religion, in its essence, teaches love, kindness, and the pursuit of good for all human beings. Just as a sports lover respects athletes across all games, a truly spiritual person respects goodness in all faiths.
In this spirit, and echoing Dr. Raj Singh’s call, I share these stories with hope. Hope that we, the people of Manipur, can wake up from this nightmare and return to the days when our identities were not barriers, but bridges.
In 2005, I was deputed to Tulsa, Oklahoma, USA, as part of my job with IBM Global Services. Tulsa may not be a large American city, but it holds significance as a hub for the oil and gas industry. It also lies at the heart of what is known as the Bible Belt - a region where conservative evangelical Protestant Christianity strongly shapes the social and cultural fabric. One of Tulsa’s well-known institutions is Oral Roberts University (ORU), a private evangelical university founded in 1963 by charismatic Christian preacher Oral Roberts. ORU draws students from across the globe who come to deepen their Christian faith and study theology. During my stay in Tulsa, I had the privilege of meeting many individuals from Manipur - including Naga, Kuki, and Meitei - who had come to the university in pursuit of spiritual growth and education. Some families, after completing their studies, chose to settle in the city and serve as pastors for churches that support new immigrants. Today, Tulsa is home to a vibrant community from Manipur, particularly from the Kuki community. I had the unique opportunity to live among the Kuki community for five years, and their warmth and generosity left a lasting impression on my family and me.
As I reflect today, in the shadow of the devastating Kuki-Meitei conflict that has plagued Manipur since May 2023 - a conflict that has polarized communities, spread hatred across social media, and torn apart relationships - the memories of my time in Tulsa offer a reminder that peaceful coexistence is not only possible but deeply rewarding.
Inspired by Dr Raj Singh’s moving piece, "From Hostility to Healing: Why Meitei and Kuki Must Take Ownership of Peace", published in the Sangai Express (July 11, 2025), I feel compelled to share the story of my Kuki friends in Tulsa - people who were like family when we were far from home.
Meeting Hegin Haokip: A Brother in the Desert
I first met Hegin Haokip unexpectedly during a Friday evening grocery run with my wife, Joyshree. In a small Indian store, we were speaking in Meiteilon when a cheerful voice suddenly asked, “Manipur dagi natro?” (“Are you from Manipur?”). That was Hegin. His joy was genuine - as though two long-lost brothers had reunited in a desert. The very next day, he came to our apartment bearing utensils (including a cast iron wok, “Khang”) to help us settle in. That simple act of kindness marked the beginning of a deep friendship.
Hegin loved the typical Manipuri sense of humor and often laughed heartily at our jokes. On one occasion, when we were preparing to visit Imphal, he wanted us to take a gift for the popular actor Olen (known as “Ta-Tomba” at the time). He deeply admired Olen's simplicity and talent.
To this day, the “Khang” Hegin gave us is still in use in our kitchen in Calgary, Canada - a quiet but enduring reminder of his generosity and friendship.
Seikam Touthang: A Host to the Community
Another unforgettable friend was Seikam Touthang, whom I respectfully called “Tamo Seikam.” He lived in Tulsa with his wife Lalam, their two sons, and three daughters. A warm and generous man, he never failed to invite us to every Kuki community event- be it a Kut festival, a family gathering, or Friday evening games.
Tamo Seikam’s home was a welcoming hub, almost like a community hall. He especially loved cooking and delighted in feeding everyone. I fondly remember long drives to nearby towns to buy fresh goat meat, followed by lively feasts at his house. His kindness and concern for my family left a deep impression. Even when we missed events, his calls conveyed genuine care.
Sei Touthang: A Gentle Soul with Deep Faith
Then there was Sei Touthang, my contemporary and dear friend, whom we affectionately called “Oja.” A gentle, learned church leader, Sei’s sermons left a profound impact on both American and immigrant congregants alike.
We often debated spiritual questions - “Do we go to heaven when we die?” “Does God monitor our actions?” What moved me most was his belief that our relationship with God should not be one of convenience. As he wisely said, “A friend who remembers you only when they’re in trouble is not a true friend. We must remember God through both joy and sorrow”. Sei was there for my family during some of our most difficult times, offering strength and comfort. Our bond endured even after we left Tulsa; he later visited us in Calgary after six years.
Conclusion: Let us rebuild - not just our homes, but our hearts.
As I recount these memories, it pains me to see how religion has also become a dividing force - labeling people as Hindu, Christian, or Muslim, and fueling hatred and violence, including the horrors unfolding in Manipur. But true religion, in its essence, teaches love, kindness, and the pursuit of good for all human beings. Just as a sports lover respects athletes across all games, a truly spiritual person respects goodness in all faiths.
In this spirit, and echoing Dr. Raj Singh’s call, I share these stories with hope. Hope that we, the people of Manipur, can wake up from this nightmare and return to the days when our identities were not barriers, but bridges.