PHIL FITZPATRICK

DURING their time in Papua New Guinea, I think most kiaps and some teachers, health professionals and certainly missionaries encountered sorcery.

To the western mind, the inexplicable and malevolent nature of sorcery was difficult to understand and explain.

It was easy to dismiss it as a silly superstition that would disappear with time when education and the Christian belief became more widely available.

Some people thought the western churches would stamp it out, although this was unlikely because a lot of what they preach requires a suspension of rationality in the same way sorcery does.

Papua New Guineans readily recognised this.

Sorcery, of course, is still alive and widespread in PNG, its existence best exemplified by the burning of witches in the highlands.

My most recent encounter with sorcery occurred about four years ago. I was doing social mapping at Amau, about 150 kilometres east of Port Moresby.

Amau was a major outpost of the Kwato Mission. Missionaries arrived in the area in 1934 so, if anywhere would be sorcery-free, you’d think Amau would be the place.

Not so.

I was talking to a local councillor and elder of the church. He was blind in one eye and I asked him what had happened. He leaned close to me and whispered, “Sorcery”.

That night one of those big winds that occasionally blow up along the Papuan coast hit the village.

There were coconuts bouncing off roofs and stuff flying everywhere. At about two in the morning I abandoned the flimsy bush material house I was staying in and went to huddle with villagers on the road, well away from the trees and buildings, until the tempest blew over.

In the morning I sat listening to the people discussing the identities of those who had called up the wind. They finally decided it was an old man who lived at the edge of the village.

He was apparently getting revenge for some sort of snub he had received several months before. No one was game to confront him, it was generally believed his supernatural powers were too dangerous.

It is very tempting to feel superior in this sort of situation. Sorcery in our own western societies was discredited a long time ago.

Or was it? Exorcism is still on the books of many churches.

I spent my early years in a rural area in southern England and there were some strange beliefs around. None of them was particularly malevolent but they still defied logic: spilt salt thrown over the left shoulder; horseshoes nailed to doors; certain plants reputed to keep Satan at bay; that sort of thing.

In 1965 Jerzy Kosinski published a novel called The Painted Bird about a young, abandoned boy wandering through Eastern Europe during World War II. Kosinski was a Polish Jew who had lost most of family in the Holocaust. He came to America in 1957. Many people thought the novel was autobiographical.

The book is unrelentingly brutal and most of the violence is related to the superstitions and sorcery practised by the peasants the boy encounters in his desperate fight to survive.

The novel brought Kosinski a lot of ferocious criticism from people in Eastern Europe, where the book was banned, but he remained unmoved and unrepentant until he committed suicide in 1991.

More recently Australian author Hannah Kent published a novel called The Good People. It is based on a court case in Ireland in 1826 when an old woman was accused of the infanticide of a disabled boy she had been attempting to cure by trying to ‘put the fairy out of him’.

The novel goes into great detail about the superstitions and sorcery prevalent among peasants in Ireland at the time. The old lady was acquitted.

I’m a great believer in truth in fiction. In fact, I think there is often more truth there than we realise. Fiction gives us the opportunity to explore ideas in a way we might not be able to do elsewhere. That’s one of the reasons it is important.

That aside, both of these books do two things. The first is to put paid to the idea that we westerners have any claim to superiority when it comes to things like sorcery. The second is to provide a more familiar basis for understanding sorcery.

It seems that sorcery is on the rise in Papua New Guinea. I’d suggest there is a correlation between that, the failing education system and a waning economy that is failing to meet people’s aspirations for a good life.

As the churches have discovered, you can’t fight superstition with other superstitions. And sanctions have proved not to work. A strong economy is a driver and education is the key.

The rise of sorcery is another unintended consequence of falling educational standards and availability.

I don’t think the Papua New Guinean government realises this.

LORETTA BELE KUWALU

SINCE I began work with the family planning service Marie Stopes International in 2014, I have learned to embrace the simple fact that choices change lives.

Many women in Papua New Guinea are deprived of their right to be independent thinkers. This is evident when our cultures, customs and traditions label women as domestic assets and only let men - the hierarchical leaders - make decisions.

Many times women are forced into early marriage, often as young girls. Deprived of their right to education they later become disempowered.

These women have no choice but to fend for their families: they toil on the land, collect firewood, do the laundry, cook dinner and much more besides.

It is a complex and silent struggle for these women, who cannot exercise their ability to choose freely and responsibly the number and spacing of their children.

I started my career with Marie Stopes Papua New Guinea as an Outreach Coordinator in Arawa, Central Bougainville.

As a young Bougainvillean woman, I was ecstatic to be back home and working.

My job involved going out into communities and providing quality and friendly family planning services.

I did not realise then the magnitude of the work I was doing until I saw firsthand the difference that being able to decide and make a choice for oneself brings much more rewards than ever imagined for women.

I met Grace on outreach at one of the villages. She had black curly hair and smooth skin. Despite her smile and calmness of voice I could tell by her stance and the wrinkles on her young face that she was shouldering a heavy burden.

When we spoke, I found out she had six children. The eldest was 10 and the youngest six months. Her husband was a drunk and she was left to cater for the family’s needs. Furthermore, he had abandoned her and their children for a younger woman but often visited Grace for a one night stand.

Grace was trapped in a vicious cycle of pregnancy and could no longer contain her silence.

Adding to her troubles, she was afraid of falling pregnant again. If she spoke up or refused to have sex with her husband, she would be reprimanded and most often beaten up.

A sense of confidence and relief filled Grace when she learned she could freely choose the spacing of her children. She was overwhelmed with a feeling of empowerment because she never dreamed she could make this life changing decision herself.

I visited Grace 10 months later and was astonished to see that she was robust and full of life.

She said she was now able to spend more time in the garden and sell what she could at the market. She sent her two elder children to school and had a little extra money to support her family. But above all, she spoke with confidence that she now lived a happy and satisfying life.

Grace’s situation, like many others in Papua New Guinea, had been unrecognised. In a country like ours, where many women and infants die due to complications during pregnancy or childbirth and families live in poverty, having the ability to choose freely the number and spacing of children opens many possibilities for women and their families.

They can complete their education, have a long-lasting relationship and feed, clothe and educate their children.

There are many sensitivities that surround family planning and work that is done in the sexual and reproductive health field.

Stigma, religion, culture and gender norms hinder women’s access to these important services.

Despite these challenges, there are organisations of passionate and committed people who are courageous and break boundaries to continue delivering services to marginalised and vulnerable groups.

I encourage all of us to work together and empower every girl and woman with the knowledge and ability to think and decide freely and responsibly for themselves as choices change lives.

My story is based on a true account and the name of the client has been altered to protect her privacy. This is in no way a representation of Marie Stopes PNG but an individual submission on my part - LBK

LEIAO GEREGA

One day the males all bargained for a price
Worth twice an elephant’s size
Who was it, we thought
But it was for a skinny little,
Skinny little girl
Hiding behind her mama’s skirt

Through big brown eyes she watched
The big bellied bouncy man
with pocketful a money
And her mouth watered at the thought
Of how many lollipops she could buy

She was seen as proper and fit
a song was sung on the mountain tops
A song for the contestants
This time a young woman stood
beside her mother
somewhere a pig behind her skirt

And she bravely faced each pocketful male
No longer she wished for lollipop, no longer was she envious
The bouncy belly had grown twice an elephant size
He strutted about showing all his glory
and in her heart she laughed and laughed with contempt

Her mother was pained and bore her daughter’s misery
marked that day for a lump sum price
she pretended to agree with the choice
come next week when pigs were slaughtered,
in the valleys the song of feast was heard
tanget leaves and feathers displayed amongst the huts below

But on the mountain top watchful and waiting a ploy was hatched
by that once little girl behind her mama’s skirt
with glee she took flight as fast as she could away
she followed another song
away and away she ran to the city
soon the feast turned to wailing and a search began

Too late, it was told she had gone away to find liberty
they screamed and screamed and sent word for her
but she had found favour in her work
behind the counter she served
steadily she earned enough to buy books and files
and she promised herself
Someday she would write
stories of girls and of women
and their freedom to choose how they should live

Leiao Gerega, 28 years, graduated last year from the University of PNG and is working as a reporter with South Pacific Post Ltd. She says there is nothing more she would like to see than PNG women embracing the culture of literature and arts

PHIL FITZPATRICK

EVERY hunter who goes into the forest knows that one of the most dangerous creatures he is likely to encounter is a wild boar.

With razor sharp tusks, these formidable animals can disembowel a man and leave him dying on the ground.

When a genteel man ventures forth in the cities, towns, suburbs and villages of the modern world, he knows that one of the most dangerous creatures he might encounter is a liberated woman.

Why should a man be afraid of a liberated woman?

Perhaps some of the blame lies with the early feminists, who could be very prickly indeed.

If you watch archival footage of Germaine Greer eviscerating male panellists and audience members it’s easy to understand the basis of this fear.

Germaine tended to go straight for the jugular, or should I say testicular? She was very good at ridiculing men and their sexuality in front of appreciative female audiences.

Papua New Guinean men may not be aware of Germaine and her peers but the fear of having their sexual prowess and egos ridiculed might have something to do with their preference for wild boars over liberated women.

Whatever the cause, this fear of the strong woman is deeply entrenched in the psyche of many men.

However, if such men choose to read the forthcoming anthology of Papua New Guinean women’s writing, My Walk to Equality, which I have had the opportunity to do, they will realise this fear has no basis.

Far from being a diatribe against men, the anthology is more an invitation from Papua New Guinean women for men to join them in their quest for equality.

As Elvina Ogil says in one of two scintillating forewords to the 300-page book: “If Papua New Guinea is to claim its place among civilised nations, its women must walk with its men. Not behind, not beside but with [them]”.

The invitation is also extended to Papua New Guinean women still labouring under old world beliefs that see men as naturally superior.

This sentiment is expressed and underpins the essays, reflections, stories and poems in this first collection of PNG women’s writing.

The message is clear: We are liberated women, come join us as liberated men.

There are criticisms of men, of course, but these are not presented so much as censure as genuine attempts to illustrate archaic and misdirected thinking that is no longer relevant in modern Papua New Guinea.

The days of strident feminism are gone and this is a good thing. Feminism has matured and is a lot more confident of itself and its aims.

The anthology is a first for Papua New Guinea and while its value will be measured by the veracity of its arguments, it is only a first step.

The next step has to be a lot more highly personalised.

Oxytocin is a hormone that produces a sense of well-being and happiness when people interact and socialise.

Men and women who have happy and fulfilling relationships with their partners and neighbours produce lots of this hormone.

The chemical, however, is influenced by other hormones, notably estrogen and testosterone. Too much testosterone can overwhelm oxytocin and nullify its effect.

Men have to learn to not feel threatened by women who exert their rights and then respond with testosterone powered aggression.

Women must be careful how they exert themselves. They should not do what Germaine Greer did in goading men.

To achieve equality women must be much smarter than that.

And perhaps one day being a liberated Papua New Guinean man will be a mark of pride and represent a major step in gender relationships and building a more effective society.

ROXANNE AILA

She is a Delena woman.
She is a daughter, a sister, a mother, an aunt, a grandmother.
She has her garden, the sea is her backyard.
She cares for her family.
She cares for her extended family.

She is part of the United Fellowship Group.
She and her team work tirelessly through the year to fund raise with bake sales.
She leads the fellowship and cares for her community.
She will travel from Delena, over the open road on the Hiritano Highway.
She will go past Age Vairu, past Brown River, past Laloki.

Once in Port Moresby she will cook and visit Port Moresby General Hospital.
And share food and presents with patients.
The hospital has patients from all over PNG, some without family or friends.
Does she do it for money or to be recognised?
She does it because she cares about our people, our country.

MARTYN NAMORONG

IMAGINE you are a rugby league supporter attending your team’s grand final match. Five minutes before the match, the referee consults the opposing team and announces there will be new rules.

That is exactly what is about to happen in Papua New Guinea during this election year.

Papua New Guinea’s electoral commissioner Patilias Gamato is reported to prefer the deferral of PNG’s national elections in order to facilitate new rules proposed by the unpopular O’Neill regime.

Gamato told The National newspaper:

“In light of the decision by NEC (National Executive Council) to recommend the proposed legislative changes on election to reduce the campaign period from two months to one month, that will slightly affect the dates that I’ve announced.

“The government, through NEC, is focused on calling parliament on 24 January for the first reading of the amendments that they are proposing to parliament.”

Gamato however is not the villain as he will be only implementing the law of the land if parliament passes the changes.

The real villain is the O’Neill regime.

In this PNG vs O’Neill regime match, the referee will be forced to change to rules of the game.

Gamato further explained how the election will be rigged by the O’Neill regime:

“The second reading will be in March. NEC and the caucus are adamant to make those changes.

“If that goes through, I will have to recommend new dates to the governor-general to approve. Once that is done, I can announce new dates.

“Most likely, it will come down to 20 May, which is still within the fifth anniversary (of return of writs). So there’s no problem with that.

“I will say that the dates as announced will remain. If in the January session parliament decides to make the first reading then I’ll have to ask the governor-general to change the dates.”

Papua New Guinea’s elections have never been deferred previously to facilitate changes to the goal posts.

Papua New Guineans must oppose the changing of the rules just when the political match is about to start.

Do not let your democratic rights be flushed down the toilet by an unpopular regime.

FRANCIS NII

THERE is something special about schoolteachers which makes me curious - and that is they don’t seem to get old like the rest of us.

They do, of course, in terms of the passing years. But physically there appears to be some restraint on the ageing process.

I know this because most of the teachers who taught me in my primary school journey during the 1970s, and also in high school, are still strong and look younger than me.

One of them is Alphonse Sil from Kup in the Kerowagi District (pictured with me above).

Alphonse taught me from Grades 3 to 5 in 1975-77 and is now in his seventies but, as you can see, looks tough and youthful for his age.

Alphonse attended Rosary Kondiu Primary School in 1959-69 and in 1970 was employed by Bulolo Commonwealth New Guinea Timber.

While working there, he applied for teacher training and was accepted, graduating in 1974 after a one-year teacher training program at Holy Trinity Teachers College.

The following year he started teaching at Diani Primary School in the remote Salt Nomane area of Simbu. This is where he taught me until he was transferred in 1978.

What always impresses me of this great pioneer of modern education is the pride he has in his Kumai culture.

At school, Tuesday was the designated day for teachers and students to wear their traditional finery as a way of promoting heritage and culture.

But Alphonse would wear his Kumai bilas anytime of the week and earned the nickname ‘Kumai Skin Diwai’ because of the tree bark that he wore around his waist.

Alphonse resigned from teaching in 2014 after 40 years of service and, with his wife Lina, he now lives at Kup along with their four children and very many grandchildren and great grandchildren.

It’s not just me who has experienced this phenomenon of the ‘forever youthful teacher’ but many others have done the same.

The consensus among us is that teachers spend most of their time with children, talking and acting like them and therefore their brain, body and feelings have been conditioned to stay young.

I have done no research on this theory but it would be interesting to hear from readers.

JEFFREY FEBI

This road is unlike a river
Though like a river it meanders
With large and tiny bends
And mighty and feeble swirls
Oft in silence and secrecy

Though like a river it braids
With channels like blood veins
And many an eroding bank
Oft with energetic sound
This road is unlike a river

I am certain of it
Like the Okuk Highway
Like the Hiritano Highway
It goes uphill and into the clouds
It goes through countless swamps

This road is certainly unlike a river
Though it becomes murky at times
And clear at other times
You can't drink off it
Nor bathe in it

This road .... is my road.

MADLYN BAIDA

I AM the eighth child of 10 in a family from Egefa village along the Hiritano Highway in the North Mekeo area of Central Province.

Now I live in Madang Province and want to share my experiences of how the Tropical Gems Rhythm Foundation changed my life.

My father was a subsistence farmer and we spent our time making gardens while my elder brothers would go hunting or fishing.

Because of the remote location of our village, I was unable to complete my education, leaving school after Grade 6 in 1992.

My father and mother passed away when I was young, and it was difficult for me as a young woman growing up in a community where women, according to our Mekeo chieftain custom, have a lower status than men.

In a twist of fate I met a man who was educated and had a good job and I married him in 2002 and moved to the big city of Port Moresby and raised three beautiful children, two boys and a girl. I had always prayed about going to school to further my education but this did not happen.

In 2011, when my husband got a new job with the Ramu Nico mining company we moved to Madang Province.

Even though I had lived in a big city, I remained dissatisfied with my understanding of life as a village girl and still had a desire to learn and maybe one day to get a job.

Around June, 2013, I joined Tropical Gems which had established a school teaching about ‘mind setting’. The theme was ‘Making a Difference and Never Give up (MADANG)’.

I was encouraged because the school accepted anyone, even people without a formal education. I saw this as a golden opportunity and challenge to make a difference in my life.

With the support of my husband and three children, I paid my fees and started attending classes.

My first task was to pick up rubbish every morning around Madang Town before we went to school. I felt this was odd, but, regardless of comments from the public, mainly my friends, I continued to pick up rubbish and do town cleaning.

This was my first lesson: humble yourself, work for others and rise up through the ruins.

Most classes were conducted under the coconut trees at Kalibobo Beach. Regardless of the rain or hot sun, I continued to attend.

The lessons taught were about personal viability; how to make a difference in our lives by thinking positively.

Some of these lessons included the value of time, faith and attitude, the rules of life, God's law of reward, God power to get wealth and studying a book called Cross the Line. These lessons were practical and were real life experiences that had meaning for me.

I started to put these lessons into practice. Although I did not work, I learned how to save a little of the money provided by my husband while I continued to attend daily classes.

Tropical Gems had 10,000 members when the program was launched in 2014. Sadly now it is left with only about 100 faithful members. However, we continue to go to meetings and discussions.

One of the most important impacts in my life was learning public speaking; having confidence and sharing what ‘mind setting’ can do to change lives. Also important has been networking and moving into the rural areas of Madang Province and conducting awareness in villages about healthy living, learning to do more for yourselves and not depending on other people like the government and politicians etc..

One of my greatest achievements was changing my understanding about what life is really about. I went from a simple village girl with a confined outlook to someone looking at the big picture. I learnt how to type on a laptop, access the internet and use Facebook and other social media. Today I have many friends on social media.

I would now like to reach out to as many people as possible who do not know much about what ‘mind setting’ can do and get them to take on the challenges and learn more and make a difference and never give up.

PHIL FITZPATRICK

ORGANISING Papua New Guinea’s national Crocodile Prize literary awards wasn’t particularly difficult.

In 2011 Keith Jackson and I were still actively working: Keith running a public relations company in Sydney and I fully occupied as a social mapper in Papua New Guinea and Australia.

The vast bulk of the planning and organisation was done by email. All our sponsors were contacted by email, including the Australian High Commission, which hosted the early awards ceremonies.

Even making the winner’s trophies was easy. I made up the wooden bases, stuck china crocodiles to them and attached a plaque engraved with the winner’s name by a local shop.

The most time consuming aspect was editing the entries. Producing the anthologies took up a bit of time, but it was a learning experience and once I’d mastered the system it was easy.

Even the costs were minimal. I just attached attendance at the awards ceremonies to my travel to PNG. The companies I worked for were understanding and supportive.

We did, of course, put extra money into it, especially Keith, but that was voluntary and wasn’t related to the actual organisation of the competition.

Given that experience, and the great success of the Prize, I remain mystified about why it seems so difficult to move the competition into Papua New Guinean hands.

When the organisation was handed over in 2013 it crashed badly and Keith and I had to rescue it late in that year.

The reason for the problems? Shall we say that certain vested interests were milking the Prize, which had quite a bit of money attached to it, before abandoning it when the hard work had to be done.

The 2014 and 2015 competitions went off well. Keith dealt with sponsors and edited and published selected entries on PNG Attitude as usual, I edited and prepared the anthology and produced the trophies and, in 2015, the Simbu Writer’s Association organised a splendid awards ceremony and writer’s workshop.

The Crocodile Prize had been once again placed in PNG hands and, in the craggy mountains around Kundiawa, had performed wonderfully this time around.

What happened in 2016 is still largely unknown. I’ve given up trying to find excuses for the delay in announcing the winners and producing the anthology.

Turning simple propositions into complex debacles seems to be a PNG specialty.

At the highest level you can see this happening in government. PNG receives massive royalties from its resources and generous aid from Australia (a billion bucks annually) and elsewhere.

There are plenty of competent professionals in the country capable of handling the more sophisticated aspects of government.

On that basis, the country should be humming as the envy of developing countries everywhere. Instead it is well on the road to becoming a basket case.

You might blame corruption, but even after the pigs have had their fill at the trough there should still be plenty left over for everyone else.

Australian politicians have also got snouts firmly planted in public trough but we still manage to run a reasonably successful democracy. So why can’t PNG?

PNG has been independent for more than 40 years now. That’s at least two generations and heaps of time to wrinkle out any problems Australia left behind. Plenty of time to produce honourable people capable of running the show efficiently.

Everyone knows what the problems are; they are paraded daily on social media and in the mainstream press.

And they are all fixable with a bit of effort, organisation and commitment. There are a lot of talented people in PNG capable of the task.

But, like the Crocodile Prize, except for one or two dedicated individuals working against the odds, that effort, organisation and commitment never seems to surface.

It is an enduring mystery to me and a great disappointment. And I know a lot of Australians who were in PNG prior to independence feel the same way.

VAGI SAMUEL JNR

When will the act of gathering oneself from the debris of yesterday happen? Listen to the voice that is calling out to you from the sea, the wind, the river, the garden…  can you hear your home? The most likely place I think of as an idea to find comfort in the uncertainties in life. If you can relate, I convey 2017 Lagani with a beautiful smile. A voice from the Lakwaharuan Calendar - VSJ

Listen! My people from all clans
In the abundance of noise
You have not a choice
But to acquaint with this plans

Tell your heads I am here
My name is Biriakei
I have come with Laurabada
Sent by Hitolo, our foe in terror

Tell your hearts I am here
It is I, Biriabada who brings songs of love
I have been summoned by Ori on a dove
To find Lalokau, a gift to share

Tell your souls I am here
Son of Lagani the third, Guiraura
Dressing the sea with Lahara
And Dinagu with fish inside Marogerea

Tell your hands I am here
I am Goha, the slave of Goada
I have come for you to toil the Uma
And make a fireplace for our care

Tell your minds I am here
Do not resent me? I am Lailai
I maybe short but I love Hado-hado
Toboka and Maniota is just near

Tell your spirits I am here
Your forefathers know me as Darodaro
I am radiant as the sun and humble as Lahudiho
The courage for marriage please do not fear

Tell your children I am here
I, the more powerful Darovabu
I am he who is filled with Hekokoroku
Ready the Gagama for a fruitful dare

Tell your daughters I am here
I am Veadi, the eight glorious moon
I am known for Gei-gei and a shining pool
Of Sinavai, prawns and talapia I wear

Tell your sons I am here
Take me, I am Veadi Hirihiri
Hoist the sails and trawl with Mirigini
Soar like the swaying Lagatoi steer

Tell your grandmother I am here
I am Garia, the Gwauta Huana
Of nature and man, I preserve the Revareva
On the succulent skin of a Hiri Hanenamo’s tear

Tell your grandfather I am here
Laga, noble and sanctified path-finder
Collate your offerings in the Kiapa
And cheerfully give it to the Ekalesia

Tell your Hanua-Lohiana I am here
Manumaura, the unpredictable one
I am happiness and joy
Let us feast with Kitoro all the way there

JULIE L KESSLER | Asia Times

PAPUA New Guinea’s remote Hela province, in the north-central part of the country’s southern highlands, is home to the indigenous Huli tribal clan of hunter-gatherers.

It’s also the only place in the world where you will find the King of Saxony bird of paradise, and a plethora of other winged wonders. It is a region steeped in history, mystery, myth, and diversity.

Between them, Papua New Guinea’s seven million people speak more than 800 indigenous languages. Some 80% live in rural areas where modern services have never existed and more than a third of the population is illiterate.

On a recent excursion, my travel partner and I were the only guests at a small lodge atop a hill near the isolated Tari Gap. Our hosts had both running water and electricity – luxuries after several days spent on the Karawari River, a tributary of the mighty Sepik.

As we were seated for dinner, a dozen enormous men suddenly entered the dining room. Were it not for their black camouflage fatigues, knit hats and AK-47s, one might have pegged them for a Melanesian rugby team. That we were practically in the middle of nowhere made the scene even more surreal.

We sat on silently as they reconnoitred the dining room, guns cocked. Finally satisfied with their scan, they quietly departed and, as I took stock of my cardiac health, a short, dapper, bespectacled Papuan walked in, sat down and ordered wine.

“I believe that independence came too fast for PNG, and our biggest challenge is to get people ready for the future”

And so my meeting with the Honourable Ambeng Kandakasi, a justice of the PNG Supreme Court who was in Tari for a few days to conduct a land-dispute mediation, came to pass entirely by chance.

Why all the heavy-duty security? For starters, the Australian government’s travel guidelines for PNG are one long warning list covering landslides, carjackings, gang violence, venomous snakes and civil unrest.

And then there are the controversial ongoing mining and liquefied natural gas (LNG) extractions in Tari, for which local landowners believe they are not being adequately compensated.

Pursuant to customary and land law, traditional landowners own 97% of the land, but the Mining Act of 1992 and Oil & Gas Act of 1998 provide the State with apparent absolute ownership of mineral and petroleum resources.

This makes land disputes a high-risk endeavor for anyone to wade into, never mind a high-court justice.

In December the PNG government stated it would deploy military troops to the region to stem violence resulting from tribal conflicts that has resulted in several deaths near the Exxon-Mobil LNG project.

“I’m aware of one case last year in Tabubil, in the Western Province, when a child’s arm was eaten”

Justice Kandakasi is originally from a very remote part of PNG’s northern Enga province, and grew up in a tiny village with parents who described World War II planes overhead as “large, strange, featherless birds.”

Showing promise and drive, he ultimately graduated in 1988 from the University of PNG Law School in Port Moresby. Kandakasi then received his LlM degree from the University of San Diego in 1991.

Returning to PNG, he taught at the law school and worked in private practice before being appointed to the National and Supreme Court of PNG in 2000.

Julie L Kessler: If you had a magic wand and could immediately change something in PNG law, what would that be?

Ambeng Kandakasi: (chuckling) Well, the first thing I would do would be to remove sentencing guidelines completely. Instead, I would have some kind of committee oversight to aid in determining appropriate sentences for particular cases.

While committee oversight might be cumbersome, I still think it would be an improvement over the current guidelines. For example, PNG currently has on the books the death penalty for capital cases, though it has not been implemented since 1954. This is so despite the fact that the PNG’s parliament reintroduced the death penalty for capital cases in 1991. PNG also has life sentences for aggravated rape cases.

The other thing I would do with that magic wand is make certain that there would be no vestige remaining in PNG of the 1971 Sorcery Act. While the Act was repealed by the government in 2013, altering long-standing traditions is difficult. Though there are good kinds of sorcery, such as [that related to] fertility and health, there are also bad kinds of sorcery, such as hexes, misfortune and the like. But the punishment aspect needs to be changed.

JLK:In parts of PNG, illnesses or deaths are sometimes blamed on suspected sanguma, witches, generally women, and the Act legitimized attacks on those suspected of witchcraft. How can extra-judicial punishment in these kinds of cases be combated?

AK: If the formal system isn’t equipped to handle petty criminal acts, then it’s OK to punish in the field. It is much more complicated with major criminal acts, such as murder.

JLK: PNG has had a history of cannibalism. Does it still take place today in remote villages?

AK: I’m aware of one case last year in Tabubil, in the Western Province, when a child’s arm was eaten. This area of PNG in the past was known for cannibalism. Cannibalism was also prevalent among the Kukukuku and the Oksapmin peoples, but not since PNG independence (from Britain, in 1975).

JLK: How do you manage the complexity of the long bridge between your tribal upbringing in a tiny, remote village, and your travel, education, and knowledge of the rule of law?

AK: I have found strength in the traditions of Papua because I understand them. And because I understand those traditions, I can aid in positive change. Papuans are tribal people, whereas capitalism is uniquely about the individual. I believe that independence came too fast for PNG, and our biggest challenge is to get people ready for the future. Education is the key, starting with pre-school and basic Christian values.

JLK: Perhaps then Prime Minister Peter O’Neill should be concerned you may run against him in the next election?

AK: I’m happy right where I am.

Julie L Kessler is an attorney based in Los Angeles, a freelance writer and the author of the award-winning book ‘Fifty-Fifty, The Clarity of Hindsight’. Her personal website is www.vagabondlawyer.com

INTERVIEW

THIS week My Walk to Equality, the first ever collection of women’s writing by Papua New Guinean authors was made available to the public through Amazon Books prior to its dual launch in Port Moresby and Brisbane on International Women's Day in March. Leiao Gerega of the PNG Post-Courier newspaper spoke with the book’s editor, Rashmii Amoah Bell….

Leiao - As the woman behind this remarkable project, please can you tell us a little about yourself, your journey with writing, the challenges you face and your current profession.

Rashmii - My name is Rashmii Bell and I am from Sio in the Tewaii-Siassi local level government area in Morobe Province.

Reading has always been a part of my life so it feels like a natural progression to move into writing. I grew up surrounded by books in my family home and I have been able to access community libraries in Australia.

My professional background is in criminology and mental health working predominantly with boys and men in secure-care settings like prisons and youth detention centres.

I exited the full time workforce in 2008 to become the full-time carer of my three young children and, since 2014, I’ve focused on developing my writing technique under the mentoring of Keith Jackson and PNG Attitude’s community.

My writing published on PNG Attitude is predominantly opinion, commentary and essay with a focus on socio-economic and gender equality issues in contemporary PNG society.

PNG Attitude is the only space that I’ve found where individuals, particularly PNG women, can engage in respectful debate, discussion and sharing of creative writing about issues within PNG and its relations with countries such as Australia, New Zealand and in the Asian region.

When did the project begin and how did PNG women respond to your call out for contributions?

Most importantly, My Walk to Equality is an entirely volunteer-run initiative with the collaboration of PNG women writers, Pukpuk Publications and PNG Attitude. I see the book as an outcome of the discussion, debate and sharing of creative writing published on the eleven-year and counting PNG Attitude blog, and its spin off creations, the Crocodile Prize awards and Pukpuk Publications.

PNG Attitude’s publisher and editor, Keith Jackson, is a former ABC general manager and managing director of one of Australia’s leading public relations firms. The blog receives the voluntarily written contributions of individuals from PNG, Australia, New Zealand, UK, US and around the globe.

Steering Pukpuk Publications is Philip Fitzpatrick is a former kiap, anthropologist and author of many books including Bamahuta: Leaving Papua. Pukpuk Publications, which he established, has over 40 titles in its catalogue of predominantly PNG authors.

The Crocodile Prize awards are the outcome of PNG’s annual national literary competition that encourages the development and promotion of PNG-authored literature. The best entries from the competition are compiled and published by Pukpuk Publications as an anthology. The sixth collection is being assembled at the moment.

My Walk to Equality includes an introduction detailing how the project came about. In brief, it is a result of four contemporary PNG writers - Daniel Kumbon, Francis Nii, Martyn Namorong and me – providing a panel presentation at the internationally-renowned Brisbane Writers Festival in September 2016. It was the first time a group of PNG writers had presented at an international literary event.

Our appearance was facilitated by the PNG Attitude community including Keith Jackson, Bob Cleland, Rob Parer and Murray Bladwell with financial support from former PNG director of education Dr Ken McKinnon and the Paga Hill Development Company.

What is the latest on this project?

My Walk to Equality will be launched in Port Moresby and Brisbane to coincide with celebrations for International Women’s Day on Wednesday 8 March. The book will be available for purchase on Amazon any day now in hard cope and electronic editions. It’s about 300 pages in all and features more than 40 writers.

How are you feeling about it now its nearing finality?

Above all, I am feeling inspired. My Walk to Equality has highlighted that Papua New Guinean women acknowledge the importance of literature as a mechanism of activism for social change. They have demonstrated a willingness to use My Walk to Equality as a platform to express themselves and to highlight to the PNG people and others that they are actively contributing to social change in their nation.  

I’d also like to acknowledge and thank the writers’ male partners and those people who supported them in preparing and submitting their writing.  

In what ways do you see literature as a means to addressing inequality affecting women in PNG?

Around the time Pukpuk Publications suggested a collaborative book project to me, I was reading Walking Towards Ourselves: Indian Women Tell their Stories” edited by Catriona Mitchell. That, along with an essay entry I’d written in 2015 for the Rivers Award, another initiative supported by Keith Jackson, triggered the idea for My Walk to Equality.

As it stands, I think that in PNG literature - particularly literature authored by Papua New Guineans - has been overlooked. My Walk to Equality also seeks to address that. I encourage Papua New Guinean women to embrace the avenue of literature to express themselves.

What are the biggest challenges that PNG women face as writers?

I think the biggest challenge for all Papua New Guineans who wish to pursue their passion for writing - particularly using literature as activism for social change - is being able to access a wide range of literature through community facilities such as libraries. It’s a given reality for writers that to be able to write, you must read – and read a lot.

Cultivating a culture of literature in PNG society has a long way to go but activities such as PNG Attitude, Pukpuk Publications, the McKinnon-Paga Hill Fellowship, regional writers associations in Simbu, Enga and Port Moresby, and the support received from public and private sponsors is slowly making headway.

Would you say there is a shared similarity in the way PNG women write? What determines the way they write?

In my own reading and the writing I have seen in contributions to My Walk to Equality, there are common underlying themes. Papua New Guinean male writers are more likely to write about politics and women about relationships.

The development of a sustainable literary culture in PNG is much needed, especially for Papua New Guinean women. Developing, publishing and promoting PNG-authored literature is a key factor which can uplift the confidence of PNG women writers to express themselves and speak out.

How do you rate the current gap between PNG female and male writers as compared to previous years?

I see a surge in talented, articulate PNG women writers who are able to match the male writers who have long dominated PNG-authored literature.

Is there any chance of involving PNG men in similar literary project in the near future?

As someone who advocates the reduction of inequality for both women and men, I hope so.

NOW ON SALE - 'MY WALK TO EQUALITY'

Essays, Stories and Poetry by Papua New Guinean Women edited by Rashmii Amoah Bell
With forewords by Tanya Zeriga-Alone and Elvina Ogil

Paperback edition - $US10.53 (plus postage)                       Kindle edition $US$1.01

Order your copy by clicking through here to the Amazon website

LEIAO GEREGA

Quietly like a mouse she slipped into the world
Oh, but dad she’s a girl
my fate he held that night
And like in ink he wrote my story
Page by page my journey went
None for me all but for his glory

Ten and tall I stayed at home
everything a women did I learnt so well
thin and wiry like a donkey
day by day stooped with loads
20 kilos and more

twelve and round my flowered skirt
I held between my knees
eyes downcast I moved among men
loud they talk, proud and strong
beside the fire my back to them

I sit and stare and watched my journey
with the flames up it went and disappeared
the fire crackled my tears dropped
no it wasn’t  from the smoke but
were they to look into my youthful heart
my tears they would not count

it came to pass a beat somewhere
an answer and a bust of light through the dark
a chance to fly away
oh my heart! But
tell me who could stifle a bursting flame?
A soaring heart or a running feet?

Anger and spat sparked amongst them
as father vented his giant breath
somehow my ears had heard the freedom song,
My feet had sunk firmly
With purpose to fulfil my dreams
I ran and not walked
I flew and not ran and I was free

Once upon a time a young girl’s
Fate was held in her daddy’s book
Priced in gold and worth a man’s pride
To please his bed and borne his child
To stoop with loads and bear his burden
To bear his anger and obey and please
To watch silently as he flirt
With anything in skirt
That journey ended in flames
of red and gold and yellow sparks

And Like a smoke she slipped past the flames
into the air she soared
and flew away to reach the heavens
and she was free
finally oh so free

BONIFACE KAIYO

FOR West Papua the winds of change are blowing steadily, but Christmas has come and gone and not brought any presents yet.

When it met at Port Vila, Vanuatu, in December, the Melanesian Spearhead Group (MSG) delayed a decision on the application for full membership by the United Liberation Movement for West Papua West Papua (ULMWP).

ULMWP officials met with the prime minister of Vanuatu on the sidelines of the MSG leaders’ summit (photo) and, in a traditional ritual, offered gifts to signify the connection between Vanuatu and the independence struggle in West Papua.

It was a further sign that, since December 2014, Papua’s international diplomacy has continued to gain momentum.

Papuan political factions no longer present themselves as different voices.

The three major Papuan political organisations - West Papua National Coalition for Liberation, Federal Republic of West Papua and West Papua National Parliament - have jointly stated “that all West Papuans, both inside and outside West Papua, are united under this new body (the ULMWP) and that we will continue our struggle for independence”.

The ULMWP has put on notice critics and skeptics who remain unconvinced of its ability to drive aspirations, articulate demands and mobilise popular mass support for Papuan nationalism.

The united organisation has secured international recognition from the Melanesian Spearhead Group and has gained more attention from the United Nations and the Pacific Island Forum. Papua has become an effective insurgency.

West Papua is part of the MSG family, a natural proxy to Papua New Guinea, and the issue of its independence struggle cannot be just wished away.

It took 15 years for the Papuan leaders to convince the Pacific nations in the Melanesian Spearhead Group that they should be afforded recognition before, at the 2015 summit hosted by Solomon Island in Honiara, the MSG gave observer status to the ULMWP.

This decision marked a historic moment for Papuans. Backed by Solomon Island, particularly from the churches, Papua was born as an international legal entity.

Since then, Papua no longer needs Vanuatu or Solomon Islands flags to raise their voices at this forum because it has raised its own Morning Star flag. In fact, at the December summit, West Papua was expecting to be accorded full membership status in the MSG.

But a decision was delayed and the trajectory remains fragile.

Since 2014, the proposal to admit West Papua has split the MSG leaders into two camps: Papua New Guinea and Fiji are keen to maintain the status quo while Vanuatu, Solomon Islands and the FLNKS of New Caledonia want to see West Papua admitted.

So the decision was deferred until later this year; a development that might reflect irreconcilable differences in the MSG where agreements must be reached by consensus.

The Papua insurgency has also penetrated the Pacific Island Forum, which issued a recent communiqué saying: “Leaders recognised the political sensitivities of the issue of West Papua (Papua) and agreed the issue of alleged human rights violations in West Papua (Papua) should remain on their agenda. Leaders also agreed on the importance of an open and constructive dialogue with Indonesia on the issue.”

Pacific leaders are well aware that Papua is a sensitive issue for them. The sensitivity relates to their relations with Indonesia, a large and influential neighbour. For some Forum members - particularly Australia, New Zealand, PNG and Fiji - Indonesia is a profitable market.

In a parallel move, seven UN member states from the Pacific have raised their concerted voices on the issue of human rights violations in Papua.

But the continuing state-sponsored violence is not the only source of Papuan grievances. They must also confront the exploitation of their natural resources. The business interests of large corporations have put Papuans in a vulnerable position as the government continues issuing licences with little consultation with Papuans.

Dr Budi Hernawan of the Paramadina Graduate School of Diplomacy contends that such ‘internal colonialism’ has consolidated the role of ULMWP as the vehicle for pan-Melanesian consciousness.

As the drama at the Vanuatu MSG leaders summit unfolded, it was obvious the Christmas gift for Papuans was not coming easily. Indonesia's international diplomacy on West Papua triumphed again.

And while President Joko Widodo has endorsed an open-door policy for Papua to admit international observers, the Foreign Affairs Ministry and the Military remain reluctant to implement it.

The prompt from the international community for Indonesia to come good on the human rights situation in West Papua is not able to influence Indonesian domestic politics and is unlikely to change in the near future. It means that Jakarta is not be prepared to engage in any meaningful discussion with Papua.

It all comes down to how best ULWMP leaders can better rise to the challenge, consolidate the hard yards gained since 2014 and continue to build momentum.

Meanwhile, Jakarta still has to deal with the pebble in its shoes.

HUMAN RIGHTS WATCH | Edited extracts

THE Papua New Guinean government has failed to adequately address gender inequality, violence, corruption or excessive use of force by police, says the global NGO Human Rights Watchin its 2017 World Report.

In May 2016, Papua New Guinea’s human rights record came under detailed scrutiny during its periodic review at the United Nations Human Rights Council.

A month later, police opened fire on protesting university students in Port Moresby, wounding 23 people. The protesters had attempted a march to the national parliament to call for a vote of no confidence in the government of prime minister Peter O’Neill.

They had been protesting for five weeks demanding O’Neill step down over corruption allegations. Anti-corruption officers have held an arrest warrant for the prime minister on corruption charges since 2014, although a court order has prevented its execution to date.

In Papua New Guinea, police abuse, including of children, continues with little accountability even for fatalities and egregious physical abuse.

Between 2007 and 2014, 1,600 complaints of police abuse were received by the Internal Affairs Directorate with 326 classified as criminal cases. The government has not publicly said how many, if any, of these resulted in criminal convictions of police officers.

“People took to the streets to voice concerns about corruption, and the only government response was gunfire,” said Elaine Pearson, Australia director at Human Rights Watch.

“Corruption and abuse will only end when abusive officials are held responsible for their crimes.”

Despite some worthy legal and institutional initiatives, inadequate implementation has meant few genuine improvements for victims of human rights violations in PNG.

Since passing the 2013 Family Protection Act to tackle widespread gender-based violence, there has been no meaningful reduction in the alarming rates of family and gender-based violence. Three years after the act was passed, the legislation has not been implemented.

Police respond inadequately, rarely pursuing investigations or criminal charges, and services for victims such as safe houses, counsellors, financial support or legal aid are inadequate.

“Despite a law that was lauded when it was passed, the government is failing miserably to protect women and girls from discrimination and family violence,” said Pearson. “There is still a dire lack of services for people who have suffered family violence.”

Papua New Guinea continues to accept Australia’s forcible transfer of asylum seekers to Manus Island for refugee status determination and settlement.

In April, the Papua New Guinea Supreme Court ruled that the indefinite mandatory detention of asylum seekers on Manus Island was unconstitutional, and O’Neill promptly agreed to close the centres.

But since then, neither Australia nor Papua New Guinea has taken significant steps to shut them down. In October, a leaked report by the UNHCR noted the endemic and deteriorating mental health of asylum seekers and refugees held on Manus.

“Closing the centres on Manus once and for all, and promptly resettling the refugees to Australia or suitable third countries needs to be a top priority for Australia and Papua New Guinea,” said Pearson.

“Refugees and asylum seekers on Manus have suffered enough, it’s time to let them move on with their lives in safety and dignity.”

MAX UECHTRITZ

ONE picture. A thousand stories, let alone words, from a rich tapestry of connections woven from people and events spanning 135 years of Papua New Guinea’s history.

That’s what’s come from this single photograph of a group of tennis players taken in post-war Rabaul in 1951 or 1952.

An avalanche of information was sparked by the sharp recall of a former Rabaul resident who celebrated her 88th birthday on Friday.

It was followed by a blizzard of information on Facebook– some from people who wouldn’t exist except for the incredible tales of survival and heroism of their forebears in World War II.

The photo is from the collection of my mother, Mary Louise Uechtritz. She was Mary Lou Harris then and is the young, blonde British woman second from the right in the back row.

When the photo was taken, Mary Lou was teaching at the Rabaul Chinese School and running the local girl guides.

The Chinese girl guides would soon be in the guard of honour at her wedding at Francis Xavier Catholic Church, just down the road, to my father, Alfred Max Parkinson Uechtritz.

When I dug out the photo and emailed it to Mary Lou a few days ago, she hadn’t seen it for decades. But as quick as her 1950s forehand return, she identified several of the players for certain and some as educated guesses.

Two were her fellow teachers at the Chinese school – Thomas Mow (second from left, front) and Jean Sargeant (second from left, back).

Her good friend Col Parry (middle back row) went on to a stellar career in the combined Royal Papuan Constabulary and New Guinea Police Force; Samson Wong (far left, front) forged a distinguished commercial career in Lae; and the two other women at the back, were immediately identified on Facebook by their nieces Claudia Chan and Wendy Cheungas as Lillian Squires (neé Leo, third from left) and Pauline Leo (third from right).

The Leo family went through great privations in a Japanese internment camp during the war and one of them – Linda – would have died if not for the actions of Lillian who later married copra inspector Alan Squires (far left, back).

But to the man standing next to my mother on the far right at the back.

He’s Dr Eric Wright who Mum describes as “a caring, innovative energetic and courageous man” who believed passionately in equality and a cause.

He was her doctor and that of the Chinese community. She described how he’d been a medical orderly or liklik dokta in pre-war Rabaul and put himself through medicine at Sydney University.

Wright returned to Rabaul post-war to set up a private practice and take up residence among the Rabaul Chinese. It was said there wasn’t a Chinese appendix he hadn’t removed!

Wright married his receptionist, Shirley May Chan Lou, and Mum delights in telling how informal they were – they even had their baby’s cot in the surgery.

Wright’s Australian Dictionary of Biography entry reads in part:

“Wright had rejoined the Department of Public Health in 1958 as assistant director of medical training. One of his first achievements was to see to fruition plans for the establishment of a nursing school in Port Moresby, at which he did much of the teaching.

“Under his authority a second school of nursing was established at Rabaul in 1959. As a foundation member (1964) of the Nursing Council of Papua New Guinea, he insisted on a thoroughly professional training for the country's nurses.

“Wright was largely responsible for the establishment of the Papuan Medical College in 1960 to train indigenous doctors (previously educated in Suva), enrolling its first 20 students in temporary accommodation. Wright was appointed principal.

“Despite the lack of buildings and equipment, he was able to attract motivated and dedicated staff. He acquired the nearby Boroko newsagency and used some of the profits from the business to supplement government funds for the construction of the college's permanent buildings that were opened in 1964.

“Wright became the mentor and advisor to a young nurse called Josephine Abaijah who went on to become the first woman elected to the PNG House of Assembly in 1972. He guided her health education career, helping her accumulate her overseas qualifications in London, India and the Philippines.”

Abaijah – with Wright as her campaign manager – founded and led the separatist Papua Besena movement, which agitated unsuccessfully for Papua to become a completely independent country instead of being linked with New Guinea.

They both got under the skin of Michael Somare and Gough Whitlam in the lead-up to independence – and, on the cusp of that event, Wright was deported in August 1975 for his “deemed interference” in the affairs of an emerging nation.

Sadly, Wright died of cancer four years later. My mother believes his last wish – that his ashes be spread off Port Moresby – was blocked by old guard Australian apparatchiks, the same colour-conscious folk who’d dubbed him “Nigger Wright” for choosing to live and work among his indigenous friends.

His protégé went on become Dame Josephine Abaijah. Her biography, A Thousand Coloured Dreams, was co-authored by Eric Wright. It was reviewed by Phil Fitzpatrick on PNG Attitude in 2011. You can read it here.

Mum vividly remembers the immense respect in which everyone at the Chinese School held Thomas Mow (formally Thomas Yuk Kwan Mow also known as Mow Sin Sung), who taught Chinese history and culture.

I am indebted to an article published by Gideon Kakabin in 2012 for information about Thomas Mow’s escape from Rabaul after the Japanese invasion. It is taken from an essay about Chin Hoi Meen MBE in A Book of Stories by Eric Johns:

“The invasion caused panic in and around Rabaul… Chin was taken prisoner along with many other Chinese and they were allocated houses at Chinatown in Rabaul…

“Some Chinese women and children, including Chin’s wife and three-year-old son Larry, had earlier moved south to Adler Bay to escape the invasion. When Chin informed the Japanese of this they allowed him and two friends, Thomas Mow and T C Wee to leave Rabaul.

“Some New Guinea men helped them on the trip to Adler Bay, but Wee was drowned while crossing the bay in a canoe.

“Mow and Chin joined their families at Sum Sum plantation. Japanese soldiers were camped on the plantation and at nearby Adler Bay but did not bother the families. More Chinese arrived at Sum Sum and there were 21 people crowded into the house.”

Sum Sum was my parents’ plantation, where their first six children – including me - were taken home after being born in Rabaul.

My father and his stepmother had been evacuated on MV MacDhui in December 1941, just before the Japanese invasion of Rabaul.

I doubt very much that – when the photo was taken – Mum knew that ‘Mr Mow’ had taken refuge at the place she would soon call home. Shades of separation!

I am not sure if Thomas Mow’s son Paul Mow (pictured second from the right, front) also spent the war at Sum Sum, but it makes sense given his age.

Chin Hoi Meen became a war hero, risking his life to help Australian coastwatchers against the Japanese and assisting two American airmen, downed near Sum Sum, to escape to a waiting US submarine.

As Eric Johns wrote: “If the Japanese had discovered these actions, they would almost certainly have executed the Chinese at Sum Sum and anyone helping them”.

Wendy Cheung tells a story – both poignant and chilling - about her family which illustrates how precarious life was for those civilians rounded up by the Japanese and interned in camps.

Wendy’s mum was Linda Fook Lin Seeto. Her auntie – the one in the photo – was Lillian Yuk Lin Leo. Wendy writes:

“The Leo family was interned [probably at Ratongor] by the Japs. Aunty Lillian, being the youngest, saved my mum’s life. She had dysentery so bad that the Japs put her out in a kunai hut to die.

“My grandmother bought a bottle of Maggi sauce from the black market, boiled water and made like a beef broth. Aunty Lillian was only tiny and the Japanese soldiers let her through to feed mum the broth.

“Mum didn’t die. She survived and had seven children and passed away at 58 years. I think her body was weakened by being in the Japanese camp.”

How many descendants would never have been born if tiny Lillian hadn’t got through to revive Linda with the Maggi sauce broth?

The other girl in the photo was Pauline Leo née Cheong. She married the eldest of the Leo boys, Leo Hong Wah.

Another Leo boy – Leo Henry Hong Ching – returned with the US Army at the end of the war. He was with the Red Cross and also did surveillance work, says Wendy.

Her father and grandfather (Seeto Chim) also escaped Wau just ahead of the Japanese with Chim’s good friend, the famous Horrie Niall, in 1942. They missed linking up with the Yanks and were lucky to picked up by missionaries and taken to Port Moresby then Sydney.

Someone who tragically did not escape the Japanese was the father of mum’s friend Colwyn ‘Col’ Parry, the blonde guy at the back of the photo.

Reginald Arthur Parry was the Senior Medical Assistant at Kokopo Hospital. Only weeks from the Japanese invasion, his wife Annie Barbara was evacuated on MacDhui with other wives and families (including my Dad who was aged 12).

Reg stayed on to look after his patients and was arrested by the Japanese after they landed 75 years ago this coming January 23.

He was one of the 1,053 Australians – civilians and soldiers – who perished on the prison ship Montevideo Maru while being taken from Rabaul as forced labour to Japan.

The ship was sunk by mistake by an American submarine and it has the grim title of being Australia’s greatest maritime disaster. Victims included the uncle of former Labor Party leader Kim Beazley and grandfather of musician (Midnight Oil) and former politician Peter Garrett.

I was privileged to be on the committee – with Keith Jackson, Andrea Williams, Elizabeth Thurston and my cousin Chris Diercke - which eventually got recognition for the victims of the Montevideo Maru in the form of a parliamentary resolution and a special memorial in the grounds of the Australian War Memorial.

Col Parry was born at Bitalovo near Kokopo in 1928 – two years later and in the same place my father had been born. He served post-war with the Royal Australian Navy then returned to the Treasury Department to run the government store at Rabaul.

Col was part of a big group of friends – including pharmacist Don Clarke and my Mum – who played tennis and socialised together. He was also at my parents wedding in 1952, the same year he was invited to join the combined Royal Papuan Constabulary and New Guinea Police Force.

He served at Lae, Madang and Port Moresby with three more stints in Rabaul. He acted as Commandant of Bomana Police College and as Assistant Commissioner of Police. Col was officer-in charge of the RPNGC Reserve before retirement to a property, ‘Bitalovo’, near Buderim in south-east Queensland. He died in 2014 aged 85. (Obituary information courtesy of Maxwell Hayes and E Sanders.)

The dashing young fellow front left in the photo was Samson Wong (Samson Yuk Chong Wong) who, like my parents, went to Lae in the 1960s. He established a very successful camera and electrical goods shops, Samsons, in 4th Street and later retired to Brisbane.

When the photo was taken, little did Mum or Samson know that their yet-to-be-born sons would end up at The Southport School in Queensland. I was in the The Southport School Class of 1976 with his cousin Derek Wong.

The person in the middle of front row is Chan Yuk Ping – identified by John Lau and Charles Yip. He owned a taxi service. Donna Harvey-Hall remembers Paul Mow “and his beautiful wife Diane”.

Adam Peripatus Liu has interviewed many people and provided a wealth of information on the Chinese community of PNG. It’s heartening to hear of his efforts given that so much PNG history is unknown, unrecorded or forgotten. He’s provided extraordinary detail on the formal Chinese names of many people.

This story started with Mary Lou Uechtritz née Harris so here’s a final note on her own story and contribution to PNG.

Mary spent early childhood (from 1929) with her English parents on Biwa plantation in New Ireland then went to boarding school and university in Britain before, aged 21, returning post-war to Rabaul with her mother. They lived in New Britain until 1960 and in Lae from 1968-90.

Her PNG story is supplemented - though far from defined -  by her husband’s ancestry of Parkinson grandparents and Queen Emma, dating back to 1882 in New Britain and 1878 in the nearby Duke of York Islands.

Mum contributed enormously to numerous PNG communities through teaching (Rabaul and Markham Valley) and at senior national levels in the girl guides movement and St Vincent de Paul, for which she was honoured by the PNG government.

She is passionate about PNG, its people of all backgrounds and its rich history.

Just one photo shows how rich, varied and volatile, wonderful, fascinating and fraught that history is – and how much more needs to be recorded before it’s too late.

One last thing. This photo could only reveal a mere sliver of history. By virtue of its vintage and the social settings and straitjackets of the time, it does not include indigenous faces.

Thankfully, thousands and thousands of historical photographs that do pay due credit to the PNG people are now being found and published in places like Gideon Kakabin's New Guinea Islands Historical Society and Peter J Tate's Taim Bipo photo history of PNG.

Now the stories are being discovered, told and recorded.

W D BARRY-IGIVISA

The pen in the hand of fools imprisons,
but when the wise wield it, it liberates.
And there are many who have built dungeons
for dissenters that pen as heart dictates.

But as the heart is free so must the pen,
and a poet is he who can speak his heart
even when it brings him hell or heaven,
for to be free and fearless is true art.

Cursed be the fool who tries to dictate art!
In the school of poetry there is no dean,
but geeks and gurus who are very smart,
and all are equal for they speak from within.

It's foolish to control art or subscribe
to a thought. The pen must have a new vibe.

ELVINA P OGIL

The publication of My Walk to Equality– the first collection of women’s writing from Papua New Guinea – has been a landmark event. In planning the book, editor Rashmii Amoah Bell invited forewords from two Papua New Guinean women whose writing has impressed because of its candour, insight and intellectual honesty. To celebrate the anthology, today we publish Elvina Ogil’s contribution; tomorrow, Tanya Zeriga-Alone - KJ

IF PAPUA New Guinea is to claim its place among civilised nations, its women must walk with its men. Not behind, not beside but with.

When conceiving of a united nation of a thousand tribes and hundreds of languages, our forebears took the first steps in this walk, articulating the unequivocal role of women as equal partners in our development and progress in that magnificent document that is the Constitution of Papua New Guinea.

Our Constitution, richer than so many others in the sheer depth of rights it accords to its citizens, chief among them is its direction to equality.

It is not so much the words on the paper in our National Directives and Goals within our Constitution as it is the tone – for women are not to be passive in this progress and development but active and equal participants.

Forty-one years on, our joint progress as equal partners in nation building has atrophied. How our forebears would measure our progress, we may never know however my presumption is that many would share a large measure of disappointment at how far we have regressed.

My Walk to Equality is the first anthology of its kind. At the core of this collection of short stories, essays and poems is a collective acknowledgement of the path still to tread.

Gender equality remains on the fringes of mainstream conversation in Papua New Guinea. When a woman marks a personal achievement in her life, we still remind her she is a woman and her achievement is only relative to that of men.

I pray never again to read a news article that contains the words “despite being a female” as if being born female is to be born with an impediment. Equality of the genders in PNG must be the norm and not the exception.

With the publication of this anthology, it is my fervent hope that we move away from the reductionism that has permeated our national conversations about our women.

A Papua New Guinean woman’s intellectual and professional contributions are still measured relative to her marital and reproductive achievements.

We do not enquire as to the reproductive and marital pursuits of our men why then are our women reduced so blatantly to their biological functions?

At a more base societal level, women remain the most persecuted for their perceived contributions to societal and familial ills. How we apportion blame for our apparent societal ills has veered largely in favour of our men and quite often in direct contrast to the rights our forebears bequeathed to each of us to claim as our own without question and qualification. 

We remain in danger of citing dubious cultural norms when justifying our continued appalling treatment of our women and it is incumbent on each of us to change this norm.

The path to equality isn’t an isolated, single-issue journey but one which traverses how we behave in our villages, our homes, in our work places and even in our larger institutions.

Marlene Potoura writes of the covert and insidious sexism of some of our Christian institutions. This appropriation of apparently biblical concepts of submission have entrenched the subjugation of our women and we must rise above this.

We each may have encountered women among us who have made us question our own views on gender roles. Vanessa Gordon’s bubu reminded me of my own grandmother – a woman so quietly fierce in her intellect she has held her own in a traditionally patriarchal society.

She is the ultimate feminist if ever I was to see one yet her life is a reminder that our path to equality is an organic process – one that each of us, men and women, must own.

Then there are women like Regina Dorum’s mother who would probably admonish us to just quietly get on with this gender equality business - women whose fight for equality was thrust upon them by life’s circumstances. I encourage you to dig a little deeper into Regina’s piece and absorb the greater message.

Each piece of this anthology reminds us that the walk to equality is for each of us to take. 

It begins with a conscious effort to raise our daughters with an unwavering belief that they can do anything.  We must raise our daughters to have ambition, to take possession of their own lives independently of anyone else, to own their own bodies and to make their own decisions about their bodies.

We must never shame our daughters for wanting their own freedoms – both personal and professional. We must instil in our daughters that they can make their own choices without a male reference point. 

Let’s begin also by banning that oft-repeated phrase I’ve heard in PNG: “yu man ah?” when chastising our daughters for small misdemeanours. The correct behaviour should not be relative to how a male is expected to behave. We must teach our children early that the sexes while fundamentally different are equal.

This anthology is also so much more than a collection of work about women. It is about our collective progress – men and women– in a forging a way forward as Papua New Guineans, finding a way that is uniquely ours….

Samantha Kusari writes of that profound need to practice the ancient art of our languages – something very dear to me as a Papua New Guinean and something also of great importance to our forebears who spoke of this in the National Goals and Directives Principles.

In commending this anthology to you, I must also commend the work of the author, Rashmii Bell.

It is through her tireless effort and vision that this body of work has come together. Each contributor has shared a personal and human story of their own path to equality and for each; a debt of gratitude for their contribution is owed.

May this also be the way forward for the advancement of literature in Papua New Guinea - for what is a civilised nation without literature to record our progress?

Elvina Ogil was born in Mt Hagen and has lived and worked in Australia and PNG. She is currently practising in corporate and commercial law as in-house counsel in Sydney. Elvina has also worked in the oil and gas industry during which period she advised on addressing gender-based violence and on advancing gender equality in the workplace.