At the Handicraft pavilion of the Hornbill Festival, visitors slowed their pace as they approached a small wooden stall where metal glinted softly under the dim lights. Behind it stood S Poangba Konyak, a 40-year-old gunsmith from Changlangshu village in Mon district: quiet, unassuming, yet carrying a craft that has survived through generations.
Months of work surrounded him. At the heart of the display were indigenous muzzle-loading guns crafted from steel, brass, and hand-selected wood. Each piece carried its own weight, not just in metal, but in the legacy and memory of a craft passed down through generations of Konyak artisans.
“For us, gunsmithing is not just an occupation. It is a lineage. My father practiced it, and before him, his father. When they had time to teach, we learned naturally,” Poangba told EastMojo.
He recounted how the Konyaks were already using guns, earthen pots, and machetes, locally called daos, by the time the British arrived.
According to Poangba, colonial authorities feared the tribe’s skill and influence. “They assumed that if they educate the locals, they’ll conquer the world, and so they introduced opium to slow down our progress,” he said.
In Changlangshu, a small village near the Indo-Myanmar border, gunsmithing is a craft taught from father to son. Poangba recalls helping his father in small ways: making tea, assisting during breaks, and gradually learning the hands-on skills that would one day become his livelihood. While farming remains a staple, crafting guns provides an additional and more reliable source of income.
“Making guns was considered easier than agriculture,” he said. “It was a way to earn without the backbreaking labour of the fields.”
Poangba’s workshop combines traditional knowledge with locally sourced and repurposed materials. Gun barrels are fashioned from jeep steering pipes sourced from Dimapur, while brass components are melted, flattened, and shaped by hand. Gunpowder, locally called khar, is produced by roasting a mixture of potassium nitrate (saltpeter), charcoal, and sulphur. Charcoal is made from the bark of a sour-fruit tree, ground and blended into the mixture, reflecting the ingenuity passed down through generations.
The guns vary in size and complexity. “The process takes roughly the same time for both long and short guns. In fact, the shorter ones are harder to make because the handgrip must be carved precisely. We have to use a vice and other tools to hold it securely. The joints are also challenging because we merge two different types of metal,” he explained.
Poangba emphasises that he is one among many. “It is not just me who makes these guns. There are a lot of gunsmiths in my village,” he said. Changlangshu alone has over a hundred artisans practising the craft, but only the work of the most experienced four or five is chosen for sale at the Hornbill Festival.
“We brought the best ones for sale. I’m not saying all are bad, but new gunsmiths are still learning the craft,” he said, adding that the work of senior artisans is trusted for its consistency and credibility.
Alongside guns, the village continues to produce daos and gunpowder, while women focus on earthen pottery and weaving. Together, these crafts preserve the cultural and economic life of the local community.
Interestingly, Poangba’s guns are not only displayed at Hornbill. They are sold beyond the state and even across the international border, including Arunachal Pradesh and Myanmar. He informed that most guns are purchased for hunting purposes.
Prices vary according to size and design: a double barrel sells for Rs 18,000, a single barrel for Rs 10,000, medium-length barrels for Rs 9,000, and handguns for Rs 8,000. On average, Poangba sells more than a hundred guns each year.
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“This is my third time at the Hornbill Festival. It is an opportunity to share our heritage, meet buyers, and preserve the tradition,” he said, a small smile crossing his face.
Poangba is married, with three children and a fourth on the way. The craft he inherited is a legacy he hopes to pass on, just as his father passed it to him. But when asked if he will teach gunmaking to his children, he smiled and said, “Time will tell,” stressing that his priority is to ensure they receive a proper education.
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