DANIEL KUMBON

WABAG - Clearly the government of Papua New Guinea is not in control of the escalating law and order problems in parts of Papua New Guinea, especially the Highlands.

The serious problems in Hela and the Southern Highlands have dominated the news recently but we continue to have grave and deadly issues in Enga.

Shocking news has just reached Wabag that a young teaching couple, their two children and relatives have been massacred at a road block as they were travelling home to Kompiam for the term break from Sir Tei Secondary School.

Soldiers from Moem Barracks deployed to Wabag to quell wafare between two tribes on the fringes of town were sent to Kompiam to retrieve the bodies and find those missing.

The people killed were teacher John Pyapenge, his brother Dalu Pyapenge and Luke Pano.

John’s wife, Faith Pyapenge, also a high school teacher, is in the Intensive Care Unit at Wabag Hospital.

Their infant son and Faith’s mother are still missing as well as other relatives who were travelling with them.

Reports say the Pyapenge brothers were from a different tribe and not from two tribes in the Kompiam area which have been engaged in prolonged tribal warfare using high powered guns.

There are also continuing tribal wars involving guns in Laiagam and Porgera.

The western and southern parts of the Highlands have descended into bloody warfare which police and army seem unable to bring to an end.

WARDLEY D I BARRY

This is a poem in Tok Pisin for PNG Attitude. It's the first one I've written in Tok Pisin. It is about politicians ignoring voters but coming back at the next election to once again seek their votes. During their term, politicians recognised voters as save pes (acquaintances whose faces are recognised but whose names are not known). However, come election time, the roles are reversed. Sick of being treated as nobodies, the people refuse to vote them back. The politicians have become the voters' save pes - WB

yu laik antap
bikos yu blo antap

mi blo tamblo
na mi bai stap tamblo

yu tok ‘To Mak’
na mi givim yu mak

yu tok ‘tura’
mi givim yu namba

mi baim takis
na yu kisim akis

tasol wanem
taim ba mi karim nem?

mi no save
yu kisim na go we

yu no save
lo ples mi stap tete

planti krismas
yu stap lo bikpla haus

yu kam lo ples
na tok mi ‘save pes’

tasol yu no
kolim nem blo mi moa

mi ‘save pes’
tasol na nau mi les

kam stap tamblo
olsem lo taim bipo

raun wantem mi
na kaikai wantem mi

spetim buai
na burukim tarai

katim kopra
na dring kulau wara

wara pudaun
lo skin bai go lo graun

yu bin memba
nau yu nogat namba

mi stap lo ples
na yu em ‘save pes’

Patrol officers course, Port Moresby, 1971

ROBERT FOSTER | CHRIS OVERLAND | Ex-Kiap Website

ROBERT FOSTER - The informal group photo of our ASOPA intake at Four Mile Camp in Port Moresby resurfaced about six months ago to illustrate a PNG Attitude article entitled ‘Kiaps:Ol narapela kain man who built a nation’.

We really were a scruffy lot. I have since wondered what the institutionally trained, corporate human resources specialists who police most of today's company recruitment would have made of those trainee kiaps.

There would hardly have been a straightforward CV amongst us. I estimate our age range at 19 to 41, I think 11 of the intake of 39 were married; seven born in the UK, one in Canada and two were Vietnam veterans. Perhaps half had secured a tertiary qualification.

The article described kiaps in general, not us in particular, as “an odd mixture” whose primary capacity was expected to be an ability to “experiment, improvise and innovate” within a testing working environment.

However despite being tagged “strange, effective and rare” it is now thought many of the younger kiaps who had to launch a second career found it difficult to find immediate mainstream employment when they began to return from Papua New Guinea after 1975.

It is said that personnel officers regularly rejected them without interview on the grounds they really were misfits and it was difficult, even impossible, to categorise them. Other objections centred on them being unlikely to “fit in” and more likely than other applicants to have “restless feet”.

Robert Forster, Bundi, 1968

I was among those who faced these problems and in my case it took the best part of four years before they were overcome.

So I would not be surprised if a high proportion of younger ex-kiaps began their post-PNG careers either as self-employed businessmen or were forced to tough it out on the margins of career-based corporate employment.

I also wonder, now that most of us have retired and take pensions, how many were able to pursue strong careers or become successful businessmen in their own right.

And then, for my own amusement, I try to imagine the reaction of a selection of the modern HR specialist or recruiters who finds themselves faced with applications from people who in their recent working past had been as hairy, scruffy and individualistic as the motley crew in our photo.

I suspect they would not have been impressed - to which I think most of us would have responded by saying "your loss mate" before moving on.

CHRIS OVERLAND - I take up the point made by Robert Forster about how kiaps were seen as “an odd mixture” and described as “strange, effective and rare”. These comments, together with those about how difficult it was for some of us to find suitable employment after leaving PNG, resonate very strongly with me.

I have previously written (in PNG Attitude) about the organisational culture that prevailed within the Department of Native Affairs and, later, the Department of District Administration.

I suggested it was a culture that valued intelligence, a sense of adventure, physical and psychological resilience, stoicism and courage (or at least no tendency to panic) in the face of adversity, and a strong orientation towards doing whatever it took to get a job done.

Many of the “hero” kiaps of the past - such as Jack Hides, Ivan Karius, Jim Taylor, J K McCarthy and many others - embodied these characteristics to one degree or another. I argued that, as a consequence, there was pressure upon new recruits to uphold the standards of the past and demonstrate they were what Bob Bell succinctly described as “the right type”.

Kiap recruitment advertisement, 1971

As a very young man entering the kiap service in 1969, I do not think that I properly understood just how odd a bunch we actually were. I would hesitate to say that the men I met during orientation training at Kwikila were misfits but, with the benefit of hindsight, we were a pretty eclectic bunch.

There was, so far as I can recall, no recognisable common trait except possibly a vaguely expressed sense of adventure and, perhaps, a slightly absurdist sense of humour.

There also did not seem to be any rhyme or reason in who would ultimately prove able to adapt to the demands of a kiap’s life.

My first posting was to the Gulf District which, by common agreement, was regarded amongst my intake as the worst possible place to be assigned except, possibly, the Western District. All those swamps, crocodiles, mosquitoes and mud, glorious mud, were regarded with undisguised horror.

The highlands were the place to be as far as my intake was concerned and that is where they almost all wanted to go. The Trobriand Islands in Milne Bay ran a hot second, for reasons that were as obvious as they were erroneous.

I was accompanied to Kerema by another young man who, by chance, happened to be from my home state of South Australia. He was, like me, only 18 years old, and straight off the farm. He was posted to Malalaua whilst I initially remained in Kerema.

By the time I returned from my first short patrol some six weeks later he had already fled south, a victim of “culture shock”. This was, I discovered, not unusual: it really took a certain type of personality to cope with the demands of the job and, I think, the sheer strangeness of life on an outstation.

Anyway, fast forward five years and I am in a plane flying out of Popondetta, going finish. I had no idea what I was going to do with myself when I got back home. I was leaving because I knew there was no future for kiaps in PNG, not because there was something better I wanted to do. I would surmise that many other ex-kiaps were in the same boat.

In fact, in a very real sense, I never got home. The place I had grown up held no attraction or interest for me and my family had moved elsewhere. I felt oddly disoriented and detached back in Australia and really struggled to find any connection with the place.

My school friends had moved on with their lives and were busy pursuing study or careers. They could not relate in any way to my experiences in PNG and were, frankly, after some initial curiosity, indifferent to them. I understood this but it tended to isolate me: it was as if five years of my life was rendered meaningless.

Getting a job proved to be a problem because I did not fit any known set of employment criteria. Sure I could read, write and add up, but my work experience simply had no parallels in an Australian workforce.

In desperation, I applied for a short term commission in the RAAF, where my paramilitary type background would make some sense. I also sought entry to university as a mature age student (at 25) as well as a job in the South Australian public service as bursar of a high school at Whyalla, 350 kilometres north of Adelaide.

To my amazement and disbelief, and after being unemployed for six months, all on the same day I was offered a commission, entry to university and a public service job. I ended up knocking back the commission, deferring entry to university and taking the public service job.

I only got this because I was willing to live and work in Whyalla which, in SA public service terms, was the equivalent of the Gulf District (only worse).

I will not dwell upon the details but suffice to say I was very good at the job I was asked to do and soon allocated many more responsibilities than had originally been envisaged. While my relations with the people I worked with were usually excellent, I soon ran into trouble with the bureaucrats in the department’s central office.

The essence of the problems was that I was strongly oriented towards getting the job done as quickly and efficiently as possible using whatever means necessary, while they were strongly oriented towards following “due process”.

Unlike in PNG, where a radio conversation with the DC or ADC was enough to initiate a patrol or some other action, there was an exceedingly lengthy, slow and paper driven process for decision making.

Opportunities for taking independent action were negligible: what mattered was following due process and that meant writing a succession of memos and minutes that followed a majestic route up and down the “chain of command”.

Patience is not my middle name, so I rapidly developed enhanced kiap-type skills at variously short circuiting, subverting or simply ignoring what I regarded as cumbersome and unnecessary processes and rules. I did whatever it took to get the job done.

My immediate colleagues and bosses absolutely loved this but various shiny bums in the central office regarded me with undisguised loathing. For this reason the powers that be decided not to confirm my permanency after six months service owing to what they deemed to be my “poor interpersonal skills”.

My immediate reaction was to say “fuck you” and resign so that I could take up my place at university. My then boss, who went on to become the Director-General for Further Education, persuaded me to keep my head down for three months while he sorted things out. So I sat fuming for that period but behaving nicely, while he did as he said he would and convinced the Director-General to ignore other advice and make me permanent.

As soon as my permanency was confirmed, his first instruction was to resume my previous activities.

So, despite initially being a very poor fit within the SA public sector bureaucracy and very frequently, the odd man out, I was able to go on and have a very successful career, retiring as chief executive of a major metropolitan hospital.

I learned to play the game better than most and achieved zen mastery of the dark arts of bureaucracy. Yet, despite this, I never felt as though I truly belonged: I always felt slightly out of place and out of time. This feeling has, if anything, grown more pronounced as I have got older.

I suppose that such feelings are not unique to me or to ex-kiaps generally. War veterans are one obvious group who sometimes really struggle with reconciling their war time experience as soldiers, sailors or airmen with those of their post military lives.

This may also be the case for others like doctors, nurses, commercial pilots and so forth, whose work life experiences are quite unlike those of most people.

However, my suspicion is that the collective description of kiaps as “strange, effective and rare” is probably pretty accurate. Of course, I could be deluding myself, seeking to find specialness in myself that is, in fact, not really there.

Maybe it would be more accurate to say that ex-kiaps are mostly ordinary people who had the good fortune to be able to see and do extraordinary things.

Whatever, my time in PNG left its indelible mark upon me and, I believe, upon anyone else who did the job for any length of time.

I am very grateful for having had the chance to work as a kiap in PNG and count myself amazingly fortunate to have done so during the dying light of European colonialism.

We collectively made history and that is no small thing.

PHIL FITZPATRICK

TUMBY BAY - One of the greatest pleasures available to humankind is spending a lazy afternoon browsing in bookshops. It is a pastime at least on a par with messing about in boats.

Unfortunately, it’s a pleasure eschewed by modern, electronically tuned generations and, most tragically, something that has never really been available to Papua New Guineans.

Like many other simple pleasures of life, it now looks like going the way of the dinosaur.

A couple of years ago a frustrated Scottish second hand bookseller, Shaun Bythell, took a Kindle e-reader outside and blasted it with a shotgun.

He then mounted the shattered remains on a trophy board in his shop.

It was a symbolic gesture. In recent times bricks and mortar bookshops have been closing all over the world.

The main culprit is the manufacturer of that e-book, the seemingly unstoppable juggernaut Amazon.

What started out as a great idea has somehow morphed into a ruthless, profit driven enterprise that is slowly and surely destroying many of the age-old delights surrounding books.

The joys of browsing in a local bookshop is now a thing of the past almost everywhere, thanks to Amazon.

Nowadays people are more likely to go into a bookshop to look at a book before they order it online for half the price.

People like Shaun Bythell have been forced to commission Amazon and its subsidiaries, Abe Books and The Book Depository, to sell their books online at rock bottom prices to survive.

But it’s not just Amazon that creates problems for booksellers and book lovers. Google and Project Gutenberg are busily creating digital copies of everything they can lay their hands on that is out of copyright.

Instead of paying people like Shaun, a seller of second hand books, a good price for an old book, you can now get it for nothing as a free download or as a print-on-demand hardcopy for a couple of kina.

This relentless pressure to make books cheaper may sound good but think of the publishers and booksellers it is putting out of business.

And if that doesn’t impress you, think of the writers – already poor - whose output has diminished in value to the point where some of them think the effort is not worth it. So why write at all?

I was a great fan of Amazon’s CreateSpace printing and distribution network when it began but now I’m starting to think its main driving force is not literature but profit.

So where does that leave Papua New Guinea?

Well, strangely enough, Papua New Guinea is one of the few places where Amazon has done a lot more good than bad.

Amazon won’t make Papua New Guinean writers rich but in a country with few bookshops and even fewer publishers, not to mention a truly apathetic government, Amazon is really the only game in town.

For Jeff Bezos, the multi-billionaire owner of Amazon, Papua New Guinea probably represents, in theory at least, the ideal marketing environment.

There are no competing publishers and no bricks and mortar bookshops to force out of business.

And that is the scenario that he now seems hell bent on forcing on the rest of the world.

Thank heavens for diehards like Shaun Bythell. Keep shootin’ up those  Kindles, Shaun.

Prime Minister Peter O'Neill & a child are vaccinated against polio

ELEANOR AINGE ROY | The Guardian

SYDNEY - The first cases of polio in Papua New Guinea in 18 years have been detected, with a six-year-old boy from the Morobe province the first confirmed case of the virus.

The boy presented to health authorities on 28 April with weakness in his lower limbs and the virus – a vaccine-derived poliovirus type 1 – was confirmed on 21 May.

Last week, the United States Centres for Disease Control and Prevention found the virus was also present in the stool samples of two children in the boy’s community; prompting health authorities to declare an official outbreak.

The World Health Organisation (WHO) declared the impoverished island nation polio-free in 2000, along with the rest of the western Pacific region. Only three other countries in the world continue to battle the virus; Pakistan, Nigeria and Afghanistan.

So far the three cases are isolated to the Morobe Province, where polio vaccine coverage is low, and only 61% of children have received the recommended three doses. WHO has assessed the risk of polio spreading to other countries as low, because travel in and out of the region is relatively limited.

In the weeks after the first case was confirmed, WHO deployed health workers for a “mop up” immunisation campaign, targeting children under the age of 15. To date, 845 children from the Lufa mountain settlement have been vaccinated.

Water, sanitation and hygiene are serious challenges in the region, adding to the crisis of controlling the highly infectious virus which mainly affects young children.

Pascoe Kase, secretary of the National Department of Health, said: “We are deeply concerned about this polio case in PNG, and the fact that the virus is circulating.

“Our immediate priority is to respond and prevent more children from being infected.”

The Papua New Guinean government is now working closely with WHO and other organisations to begin a large-scale immunisation campaign, as well as stepping up monitoring of vulnerable children.

The virus spreads through faecal-oral contamination, multiplies in the intestines, from where it spreads to the nervous system, causing paralysis.

Worldwide, cases of polio have decreased by over 99% in 30 years, largely the result of a co-ordinated global health campaign to eradicate it.

There is no cure for polio once contracted; it can be prevented only by a series of vaccinations during childhood.

Johnny Blades

JOHNNY BLADES | Dateline Pacific | Radio New Zealand

WELLINGTON - Political and tribal violence in Papua New Guinea's Highlands is compounding the struggles in a region devastated by a major earthquake nearly four months ago.

The two provinces worst hit by February's 7.5 magnitude quake - Hela and Southern Highlands - have been thrown into further disorder recently by violent unrest.

In Hela, frustrated landowners have attacked the major LNG gas project, while in the Southern Highlands, disputes related to last year's election have reignited in shocking fashion.

PNG's government declared a state of emergency in Southern Highlands after supporters of a losing candidate in the regional election went on a rampage in Mendi.

When a court ruling upheld the election result, a mob destroyed a commercial aircraft and set fire to the local courthouse, the provincial governor's residence and other buildings.

Prime Minister Peter O'Neill went to Mendi earlier in the week and called on people to respect the court decision and the rules of the state of emergency which includes deployment of extra police and soldiers to the region.

The man tasked with overseeing the nine-month state of emergency, Thomas Eluh, admits political divisions in the province run deep:

"The province is ever divided. People have taken sides, and it's extremely difficult to try and convince them. But what I have been banking on is consistent awareness and dialogue with the people. I hope this time we can be able to convince, particularly the ringleaders, that this is not the right approach. The right approach is that there are courts there and things there to sort out whatever differences they have."

A Komo warlord claims Tari police assist in smuggling guns into Hela Province

Meanwhile, in neighbouring Hela Province, tensions rose around LNG gas project operations. Landowners frustrated about non-payment of promised project royalties damaged project equipment in Angore.

They also blockaded a main access road and airstrip. A local NGO worker who works on tribal reconciliation and disaster relief James Komengi says the unrest in neighbouring Southern Highlands is having an impact on Hela:

"Yeah the problems up there are actually affecting Hela with movement of people and movement of supplies travelling in, and the free movement of people, and vehicles have been hijacked and people are harassed on the road, and that sort of thing is happening."

The police commander in Hela's capital Tari, Thomas Levongo, says there are a lot of firearms in the province:

"They've got a lot of high-powered guns. Some of the guns they have, I've never seen before. They come from Indonesia, you know, West Papua, and along that border Papua new Guineans, including people in Hela, can go and get the guns."

James Komengi says many families who have lost homes or sustained major damage to their homes are struggling for basic services:

"Nearly all schools are closed. So some parents have had to sell everything they had, and not even bother about rebuilding their homes, but with whatever funds they had they have taken their kids out to better education, so it's really a confusing situation here. And with the ongoing tribal fights, it doesn't give some parents the opportunity to go back and try to rebuild."

Mr Komengi says it's approaching two months since UN aid workers were forced to withdraw from Hela due to the security problems.

He says Hela was barely coping with its own complex set of violence around tribal conflict, election disputes and frustrations over the gas project when the earthquake occurred. According to him it's a double disaster, and the ensuing chaos showing that it's not manageable.

A G SITORI

PORT MORESBY – For some time in the place that I work I was fortunate to act as human resources director.  Part of my job was to shortlist applicants for each position that was advertised.

The large numbers of dubious looking certificates that crossed my desk were cause for concern.  The computer-scanned copies were almost as good as originals.

In the end, we had to institute measures to stop people pulling wool over our eyes. This included asking for a show and tell of the original certificates.

I believe that more than half the workforce in our organisation comprises people with qualifications and credentials that are dubious. There are just a few dedicated officers who carry the load here. Others with high qualifications just do not pull their share of work.

So, for mundane things, we end up hiring consultants to produce simple outcomes. Many people we hired claim credentials that are not their own. Damned dicey world of employment if you ask me.

The famous Enga Teachers College saga of fake receipts echoed the same problem that was faced by UPNG. Some teachers colleges have been allowing in trainees with no verified Grade 10 or 12 qualifications, so the quality of education our children receive gets further eroded.

Now we have places where you don’t have to enrol in an institution; you just buy your academic credentials and you’re home and hosed.

I thought faking academic credentials was just a Papua New Guinean phenomenon until I began to hear of cases in Australia of doctors who knew nothing about doctoring. Here are bachelors and masters degrees and even doctorates that are fakes.

And we in PNG dealt with fake Grade 6, 10, 12 and some lousy diplomas, especially teaching certificates. Now that seems like chicken feed as we confront bogus degrees and doctorates of all kinds.

Fake transcript purporting to come from the Australian National University

That international phony certificates can be so easily obtained doesn’t augur well for the local workforce in our strategic mining and LNG industries. From England, we spotted a Nottingham University College certificate that looked the goods with a convincing crest and perfect holograms.

We found it was fake when the college confirmed the named person on the certificate was never a student at any time.

An offshore certificate from some dubious place will always meet with caution. But a Nottingham University College certificate that looks authentic in every respect makes my head dizzy.  Usually British academic credentials are good but if legitimate-looking fakes can be so easily produced, I don’t know what the world is heading for.

A 2017 report from the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation told of a person in America, a psychologist, practised there for 20 years with a fake master’s degree and, hallelujah, turned up in PNG. What on earth did this college professor teach his students? How to live a double life?

We beg those with fake international credentials, please don’t come here to take our jobs; we have our own share locally. It’s one aea where we don’t need to rely on imports.

And those already in the workforce with giaman credentials need to know we are getting smarter and will expose the fakes and that time is coming soon.

Vanessa Gordon

VANESSA GORDON | My Father’s Daughter

‘My Father's Daughter’ (link above) is a collection of poetry and stories by Vanessa Gordon which are designed to share, empower and raise awareness of important issues affecting women in the Pacific. Born in Papua New Guinea and raised in Hawaii, Vanessa is the only child of the late New Zealand cinematographer and storyteller Chris Gordon, whose creative intuition was inherited by Vanessa and, following his passing, became the inspiration for ‘My Father's Daughter’.

BRISBANE - A few years ago I wanted to find out why I was always so sad. I was happy enough on the outside. I was hilarious on the outside but on the inside I was always sad.

I thought that grief and loss just kind of lingered and that the feeling would eventually pass but it never passed. I decided to do some research and find out why I felt the way that I felt and how to stop feeling perpetual sadness.

According to google and a two minute quiz in a magazine I ticked the boxes.

I was depressed. Next plan of action was to find a cure.

At first I tried meditation, church and food. The meditation helped kill time on sleepless nights. Church seemed like the right place to go to seek peace. Food filled a void.

The meditation helped put me to sleep. The food helped me gain forty three kilos and church became a place to go on Sundays.

In my attempt to find happiness I read every self-help book I could get my hands on. I made vision boards with positive quotes and goals. My mental health became one big arts and crafts project. I liked and followed inspirational and motivational pages on social media. I tried to speak out and reach out to one of my 986 Facebook friends but each time I tried to speak up I just couldn’t.

I had so many reasons why I couldn’t talk about this internal torment.

I don’t want to be a burden, I can’t possibly talk about depression on a Wednesday, my socks don’t match, they’ll laugh at me, maybe tomorrow, they’ll laugh at me, they’ll talk about me or tell me I just need to get over “it” oh and they’ll laugh at me.

I stopped trying to talk about it instead I came up with my own perfect plan.

The Ten Minute Plan

On bad days I broke every moment down into ten minute blocks.

My “bad days” became a daily thing.

An average day for me would begin waking up and feeling overwhelmed.

Before the panic could possess every part of my being I would tell myself everything will be ok in ten minutes.

Ten minutes later I’m standing in the shower. Sobbing and praying that this too will pass. I close my eyes and remind myself that ten minutes ago I thought I couldn’t get out bed and here I am standing in the shower. Yay for me.

In just ten minutes everything will be ok.

Just ten more minutes.

Ten minutes later I’m making breakfast and lunches for my family and ensuring everyone has the correct bus fare, school bags packed, homework done, I have assigned chores and made a mental note of bills to be paid, overdue bills to be paid, what to have for dinner, how to make a healthy balanced dinner for a family of three with exactly eight dollars.

Before I can step into another state of panic and before the anxiety can hinder my ability to function I remind myself everything will be ok in ten minutes.

Just get through the next ten minutes.

My ten minute therapy helped me navigate through many dark days.

I still couldn’t talk about this constant struggle. There are social stigmas that placed me in a specific box that made my search for a cure difficult. Society put me in multiple boxes.

I am a woman, I am a woman of colour. I am a pacific islander, I am a single mother, I am single mother with two children from different men, oh and I am an overweight woman.

Then there was the cultural flip side I’m too white, too light, a little too loud and outspoken and now I want to talk about depression. There was a shame and sense of dismissive dialogue that the subject of depression is irrelevant.

With everything against me I decided to stick to my ten minute rule.

In ten minutes I will be fine. In ten minutes these feelings will magically disappear.

In ten minutes I will be able to get up from this paralysed state and be able to function.

In ten minutes I will feel better.

I ten minutes I will make that phone call.

In ten minutes I will talk to someone.

In ten minutes I will seek help.

In ten minutes I will pray.

In ten minutes I will stop crying.

In ten minutes I will force myself to be happy.

In just ten minutes.

One day I decided that in ten minutes I will seek professional help.

I made the call and I sought professional help and started therapy that same day. It was one of the best decisions I have ever made. My life changed. I started eating right, I started exercising and looking after myself.

Most importantly I am not sad all the time.

I still have my ten minute moments.

Life is full of ten minute moments I just deal with them differently and I’m no longer ashamed of my ten minute moments.

PNG damaged both by fake credentials & the persecution of genuine achievers like Dr Schram

CHRIS OVERLAND

ADELAIDE - A G Sitori (‘Fake academic credentials: a world problem we’ve inherited’) is right to regard fake qualifications as a serious threat to Papua New Guinea’s professions, trades, economy and overall credibility.

This rise in the incidence of fake qualifications in PNG closely parallels what has been happening across much of the world.

In part, this is because so much emphasis is now placed upon having post-secondary or tertiary qualifications to do jobs that were once typically held by people who had only completed their secondary education.

Thus, many employers now demand a degree level qualification for jobs that, in truth, merely require average intelligence, secondary level literacy and numeracy and a good work attitude.

It is also a function of technology, in that it is now possible to relatively easily produce exceedingly good fraudulent documentation such as the fake University of Nottingham certificate mentioned by Mr Sitori.

And, of course, there are still so-called institutions of higher learning that cheerfully issue degrees to those willing to pay for them and who have done little or no work in their purported area of study.

A far more insidious problem is that more than a few qualifications are issued by entirely legitimate institutions to people whose academic achievements are, in practice, very modest indeed.

Basically, some institutions appear to be certifying that their students have achieved under graduate or higher degree standards of competence even though this is not really the case.

This is because, in the eternal struggle for paying students, many institutions of higher learning are “dumbing down” both their entry and learning standards.

They are responding to a market whereby if students find the entry and academic standards too hard to achieve, the fear is that they and their money will go elsewhere, to attend more accommodating institutions.

This is no minor matter. For example, when recruiting medical practitioners, the possession of the relevant degrees is not, of itself, enough to secure approval to practice in Australia.

Quite rightly, governments, registration boards and hospitals are very interested in the issuing authority for those degrees.

The truth is that the standard of education offered across the world’s tertiary institutions can vary quite strikingly. A medical qualification from Harvard or Cambridge or Paris or Moscow or Tokyo or Beijing is likely to be of the very highest calibre, whilst one issued from a more obscure university may be rather less so.

In truth, it is the quality of the teaching staff and facilities available that is at least as important as the efforts of the student.

If the professorial staff contains a number of winners of the Nobel Prize or the Mills Medal or similar awards, the academic standards are likely to be pretty solid. This is why a degree from a place like Harvard or Oxford is more highly regarded than one from my alma mater, Flinders University of South Australia.

I was awarded what Flinders University described as an “ordinary” bachelor’s degree. It certainly felt rather extraordinary to me but I know that it really represents merely a certificate of competence in reading, understanding, analysing and writing about relatively complex information and ideas.

Flinders is a good university that has produced a long line of successful graduates in many fields, but it is never going to challenge Oxford or Cambridge for prestige.

In a world that seems to be growing more complex and difficult to understand by the day, a small, emerging nation like PNG needs all the indigenous intellectual horsepower it can get.

For this reason, the problem detailed by A G Sitori therefore is more than a mere nuisance: it threatens to undermine the reputations, capacity and integrity of PNG’s most important institutions and businesses.

For this reason, he is right to bring it to public attention. The real question is what are the various relevant authorities in PNG actually going to do about it?

I recommend that, as a useful start, they might care to stop trashing the reputation of PNG’s tertiary system with absurd and damaging performances such as the recent persecution of Dr Albert Schram.

The significance of this incident is that, apart from the damage done to Dr Schram, it is a powerful disincentive for world class academics to ever come to PNG to teach. Why would you join an institution that has shown a willingness to treat its academic staff so badly?

Right now, there is neither prestige nor advancement to be obtained from being appointed to such an institution, so the brightest and the best will simply go elsewhere, to PNG’s great disadvantage.

Now that is a problem that seems to deserve immediate attention.

Marijuana face painting - drug use in PNG has become a destroyer of culture

PHILIP KAI MORRE

KUNDIAWA - Each year on 26 June we try to tell people of the danger of drugs in Papua New Guinea; without much success so far. The problem is getting bigger, much more complicated and workable solutions are not presenting themselves.

Many of us working in the area of drug rehabilitation and education are fed up and frustrated.  We feel helpless and unable to do much - voices in the wilderness.

We work in isolation with no coordination, support or funding from either government or international donors.

Drug related problems are a serious dilemma affecting the development of PNG. Socio-economic problems are getting worse, they are exacerbated by drugs and people no longer live in peace and harmony.

Our cultural values and norms which once were our guide and discipline have been thrown to the winds. There is confusion our youth consuming more drugs – marijuana, homebrew and even harder stuff - that triggers more social problems.

The effects have become unbearable and there seem to be no known solutions. The consequences have become far greater than the problem itself.

Cannabis or marijuana has just become like another cigarette. It is sold in the open markets in both rural and urban areas.

The overall impact is an upsurge in law and order problems and increasing addiction and mental disorders, setting up a need for more specialist doctors, addiction counsellors and social workers that we simply do not have.

Nor do we have the facilities that government would usually provide – like drug clinics and detoxification units. Addicts become criminals; there is no fair treatment and rehabilitation filter.

Law enforcement bodies cannot do much to arrest the cultivators because most of the drugs are grown in remote places in the highlands provinces and are extremely difficult to identify and control.

People are ignorant. They need to know – but don’t - that drug issues are the main cause of social and other problems, including family problems, domestic violence, murder, rape, HIV AIDS and a range of other health issues.

And right at the top of the chain, we have no comprehension of the transnational crime syndicates which exchange high powered guns for the drugs we grow. This is hidden crime and it is complicated and beyond us..  The recent Southern Highlands and Hela violence may have been an eye-opener for the government in terms of weapons proliferation but we are blind to it.

Community support is needed to combat drug problems and also we need to revive our traditional laws, taboos, rituals and problem-solving methods that were once so effective.

But we have virtually lost our culture, and a person without a culture has a spiritual emptiness and this vacuum is often compensated for by taking drugs.

We need to adopt a cooperative model to reach a solution, understanding that the drug problem is not an isolated issue but a communal problem that needs a collective solution. All institutions – government, non-government, church and secular - must cooperate to achieve the desired result.

We have to assist our youth to do away with drugs, to live in peace and harmony and become better citizens.

More specific awareness of the dangers of drugs is required. Ignorance is a killer. Knowledge is a key part of the solution.

The PNG government must provide funding for awareness and training and for law enforcement bodies to tackle the problem on the ground – whetehr in cultivating, selling or using drugs.

If nothing is done, the worst is yet to come.

Governor Taboi Yoto

TABOI AWI YOTO | DevPolicy Blog | PNG Blogs

Taboi Yoto MP is governor of Western Province and an opposition member of the Papua New Guinea national parliament

DARU - There’s a public perception out there that members of parliament have a lot of money. In Western Province, many assume that MPs and the Governor are supposed to have all the money and goodies to dish out for every personal/family/group request.

Though it’s a fact that what we MPs receive in a fortnight is more compared to the rest of our ordinary citizens, the list of requests we receive is way beyond what our fortnightly pay can offset.

Since I won, there has been a never-ending list of requests that continue to flood my office via my Facebook inbox, Whatsapp, text messages, emails and phone calls.

Many requests that I have received have tagged phrases used to try to squeeze something out of me. Tagged phrases such as “I’m your voter”, “I campaigned for you”, “I gave you my first preference vote”, “I sacrificed my time for you”, “I’m your die-hard supporter since 2012”, “I was your scrutineer”, “I lost my tears for your victory”, “mi hard wok man yah” etc. etc.

You can continue the never-ending “I did this and that for you” list.

I understand, everyone played a part, one way or the other to contributed to my election victory. However, it was done for a purpose bigger than the personal benefit or the minority group benefits.

One thing that stresses me is that, though I try to assist within my limits, I don’t know how much is enough. For instance, I had to assist a desperate man with a ticket and K2,000 when he was in need and called for help.

Though I knew he needed more than what I could assist, I couldn’t do much so I had to give him how much I could. After receiving the little assistance from me, he calls me up and here is what he says:

“You Governor or tool boy lo workshop? Mi-key man yah. You papa blog rich Province na how? Bara You no fit lo painim money lo Mosbi, K2000 em peanut yah. Mi mas wastim taim lo supporting you ya, em orite yumi stap liklik na lukim lo 2022.”

[“Are you the governor or a tool boy (tradesperson/apprentice) in a workshop. I am a key man (influential person/broker etc). You are the father (leader) of a rich province (resource rich province). Brother, you are not fit to look for money in Port Moresby, K2000 is peanuts. I must be wasting my time supporting you. That is ok, let’s wait and see what happens in 2022 (referring to the National elections in 2022)”.]

Many do not appreciate that at least their request has been considered among the many requests.

I’d like to inform my people here that such demands and expectations can drive your leaders down the wrong path, particularly force MPs to do something out of the normal to entertain your request and get into trouble. Later you will join the rest to spoil him/her for the wrongdoing. I have seen it happen and I know such traitors and opportunists do exist.

Unless our people become self-reliant with no or little expectations from the MPs, MPs will continue to have to remain straight and not fall into the trap of trying to do something out of the normal to try to entertain the never-ending list of requests.

Being a son of former politician and having associated with people with perceptions about former politicians in the past, I have also learnt that in Western Province, if you are not able to entertain whatever personal request, even due to the lack of financial and material resources, you are deemed a bad leader by a majority of our illiterate voting population and so you should be replaced in the next election. Such words go around very easily and intending candidates usually capitalise on it to gain favour.

I am not afraid to be replaced but I fear that we will continue to have the political instability in the province and kill the continuity of good policy initiatives simply because of defaming leaders for their lack of capacity to entertain personal request of the illiterate voting population rather than measuring what an MP has delivered.

The implication of this is that it can drive an MP to a corner where he is forced to do something illegal to entertain personal requests and end up being dismissed or jailed as has happened in the past with Western Province leaders.

This post was first published on PNG Blogs

After Digger Annand left PNG he played rugby league in Australia. Here he prepares to take a ball for Taree United

ALLYN HICKS

SYDNEY - During Port Moresby rugby league’s off season in the 1960s and 1970s, some players turned to boxing to keep fit.

Bouts were usually held at the old Nita Theatre in Tabari Place, Boroko, though sometimes bigger promotions were held at Lloyd Robson Oval or Sir Hubert Murray Stadium.

The biggest boxing attraction from rugby league ranks was the big James ‘Digger’ Annand, a talented and tough second rower cum centre from the DCA club. Digger was also a competent heavyweight boxer.

After a series of bouts against second rate opponents from Port Moresby’s league ranks, a group of expatriate promoters matched him with a known fighter from Australia, a man named Doug Beer.

Beer claimed to be the “heavyweight champion of the Riverina”, whatever that meant. In reality he had featured in only 14 bouts, winning a few but on the losing end of most.

Moreover he had been knocked out in his last two fights which had taken place about two years before his appearance in Port Moresby.

The Annand-Beer fight was held at Sir Hubert Murray Stadium and a big crowd was in attendance to see the local boy take on the Riverina champ.

At the opening bell, Digger came out with a two-fisted attack that send Beer reeling towards the ropes.

Those at ringside could see by Beer’s expression that he already wanted out of the contest, and fast.

Beer took the option of diving through the ropes and landing on the surrounding grass. Then he refused to continue, claiming a back injury.

The referee had no option but to declare Digger the winner. The contest, if you could call it that, lasted about 30 seconds.

The crowd was in uproar and Beer would have been in even more trouble had he not scurried off in the direction of the exit.

He later turned up at the bar of the Aviat Club where he was seen quaffing a few beers with no sign of any back problems, but at least he’d found something he could knock down.

This fiasco virtually killed professional boxing in PNG until boxers of the calibre of Martin Beni and John Aba came on the scene and were matched with genuine top class opponents.

Annand versus Beer had not been pugilism’s finest hour.

Hela landowners set fire to buildings and machinery

FRANCIS NII

KUNDIAWA - The call by Angore landowners in troubled Hela Province for a forum to discuss the problems surrounding the gas project could be the beginning of meaningful dialogue among landowners and other stakeholders leading to a peaceful solution to the royalties crisis disgruntled.

The issue has been exacerbated by lack of landowner and political leadership on the ground.

All members of parliament from Southern Highlands and Hela mostly operate out of Port Moresby. They have avoided face to face dialogue to address the grievances of the people.

Frustrated landowners resorted to violence to draw the attention of their political leaders, resource developers and the PNG government to their marginalisation.

The two-faced statement by finance minister James Marape from the comfort of his base in Port Moresby was a clear indication of a leader who has lost touch with his people.

Marape said his constituents should invite him to pursue their grievances with the government. This was a foolish call by a confused leader.

The people had already given him a mandate through the ballot paper to shoulder their interests. What else does he want? Was he really awaiting an invitation or did he just not want to front his own people?

Armed Hela landowners - ready to fight for their rights if they have to

Then, after appearing conciliatory, the threat by Marape to use the army and police to fight his own people was also an indication of a leader who had run out of ideas and lacked a clear strategy.

The people are fighting for what is rightfully theirs. Their land. They must be given what belongs to them, the royalties and other benefits legitimately and contractally agreed.

Ignoring Marape’s words, the vandalism of Exxon Mobil’s LNG assets continued last weekend.

Decisions to use the army and police against landowners without addressing the core issue will only add fuel to the fire. This what happened in Bougainville triggering a 10-year civil war. Leaders like James Marape should be mindful that missteps on their part could be responsible for another tragic outcome like this.

A possible breakthrough opportunity has been provided by the call by Angore landowners for stakeholders – including politicians and resource companies - to come together in a public forum to address grievances.

Instead of local politicians like James Marape making ridiculous statements from his comfortable enclave in Port Moresby and Michael Nali trying to flex his muscles on the floor of parliament, they must get back up into those mountains and wisely negotiate with their people.

This is the answer: dialogue to develop an amicable pathway to end the violence and pay landowners their promised benefits without further delay.

WARDLEY D I BARRY

deflowered, abused
young girl married to bigmen
Papua Niugini

raped, ravaged, ravished
black woman raised by waitman
Papua Niugini

betraying their bubus
for waitman philosophies
Papua Niugini

selling their people
to buy a house in Aussie
Papua Niugini

a nation of chiefs
that become cowards and cheats
Papua Niugini

fat politicians
who turn prostitutes and pimps
Papua Niugini

take my hopes and dreams
crush them before my eyes
Papua Niugini

stuff my mouth with cash
if I open it to cry
Papua Niugini

alas! my people
welcoming, happy, cheated
Papua Niugini

ha! home of my heart
beautiful, loved and broken
Papua Niugini

In Melanesia, fingers may be ritualistically cut off to indicate grief

JIMMY AWAGL

MAI - Through the gorges of Kui Valley - the periphery of the land they call the ‘rain factory’ - strides a striking Angra.

Just ten years old, he lives with his parents, harmoniously attending to daily chores as they earn their livelihood in this remote location.

Angra plays marbles with his peers and hunts for birds in the nearby bush. It’s part of his daily routine, but it does not include attending the local primary school.

One time, for some reason, his dad attended a Grade 8 graduation at the school and heard several speeches from the guests, picking up a particular phrase from the guest of honour’s presentation.

“Value education as your life time asset, since a child attending school is a gold mine.”

The message touched his heart and, at home that evening, he sat beside the fire meditating upon it.

When Angra returned from hunting, his father called him to his side.

“Son, you are my asset. I will earn my future not from traditional practices but from education.”

“It sounds quite fascinating and worthy,” Angra replied cautiously.

“So, I will encourage you to get to school at age eleven,” his dad said, his eyes staring hard at Angra.

Handsome Angra assured his dad he would commence schooling as of the following year.

“I have to be responsible and I have a heart to be educated,” he told his dad.

The next February, Angra enrolled in Grade 3. He put his best effort into his studies and scored good marks in every subject. He turned out to be a top student and an obedient boy; a genuinely remarkable student.

True to his commitment to his father, he valued education as a way to transform his life. He studied hard and read a lot of books. Social time with his peers suffered. Weekends were bonus study time.

He finds time within no time to socialise with peers. And even over the weekends he does not waste time but finds time for continues study and reading unlike other students.

As a result Angra was dux of Grade 8 and secured a place in Grade 9 at Mai High School.

He continued along the same trend until, just before the final exams in Year 10, a couple of close friends introduced him to smoking and homebrew. Usually he rebutted peer pressure but this time he found the thought attractive.

Angra did not have the courage to refuse. For the first time he began smoking and drinking. He found the sweetness of the habits linger and they brought him closer to his peers – and they diverted him from his study.

As handsome as ever, Angra developed a close friendship with a girl in the same class. Their relationship grew deeper as Angra continued his smoking and drinking.

The assessments from tests and assignments began to weaken. By the end of term, it seemed his exam results would fall away dramatically. Angra was unworried. At the final day of the exams arrived, he and his lover agreed to marry if they were unsuccessful in Year 10.

After the exams, during the Christmas vacation, Angra’s cousin from the village returned for a field break from his job as a mining engineer at Porgera. He earned real money, and decided to put up his bride price.

To cut a long story down to size, Angra’s lover ended up marrying his cousin. She enjoys the wealthy life of an engineer’s wife despite only passing Grade 10.

Angra missed out on selection for Grade 11. He’d lost in love and he’d lost in school.

Having no hope to sustain his education, and with bitter regret, as custom dictated he chopped off one of his fingers to mark his great grief.

A G SITORI

Robert Atiyafa

PORT MORESBY - The Chairman of the Constitutional and Law Reform Commission, Robert Atiyafa MP, has just bought a two-page advertisement in each of the two national daily newspapers to publicise reforms in Papua New Guinea’s electoral laws.

Papua New Guineans have over the years voiced concerns on problems associated with electoral laws and processes and this is our chance to put in our own ideas for reform. I encourage everyone to contribute to the process.

There are twelve terms of reference indicated under the headings of pre-election, casting votes, limited preferential voting and electronic counting.

You can find more detail by going to the Commission’s Facebook page here and browsing through the information provided. It covers electronic voter registration, national identity cards, extra time for polling and more choices for preferential voting.

You can also find more information by emailing ericlkwa@gmail.com or olnllge2018@gmail.com or writing to the Constitutional and Law Reform Commission at PO Box 3439, Boroko, National Capital District.

Contemporary Boroko home

STAFF WRITER | Hausples.com.au

PORT MORESBY – It’s not always easy to find the ideal location to rent or buy in the National Capital District. Not that there isn’t overwhelming choice; but there are so many price tags, wantoks and road conditions to consider when searching for a place.

We all want our homes to be affordable, accessible, versatile, secure and have aesthetic appeal but, aside from your own house, you should always carefully consider the neighbourhood and the suburb before you begin your search.

According to the 2018 PNG Real Estate Survey, most people think that Boroko and Waigani have attractive neighbourhoods because the majority of people opted for these two as the most sought after suburbs to live in.

So in this article let me explore reasons why Boroko is such a cool suburb for your home.

1. The happenings of Boroko

From the map you can already work out reason nambawan for choosing Boroko. There is easy access to many sporting and recreational facilities. Fact is that the National Football Stadium, the Rita Flynn Netball Centre and the Bisini Parade grounds are all located along the same road and are an easy walk to each other. Many national and international events are hosted along this stretch of road.

2. Affordability

Whether a home is affordable is relative to your income. What you find within your budget may be extremely expensive to someone else. But this is one of the best things about Boroko. There is a price tag just right for everyone. You can find apartments as low as K800 a week to serviced townhouses at K4,000 a week.

3. Accessibility

When we talk about access we mean the convenience with which you can get to other suburbs and also the condition of the streets for drivers. In an important sense, Boroko is the centre of Port Moresby city. From Boroko there is easy access to other suburbs and one of the city’s main public bus stops is here, so getting to and from work or school is easier.

Boroko offers a police station, a fire station, a post office, two banks, a craft market, many grocery stores, service stations, pharmacies and health services, beauty parlours, schools and an assortment of churches. The general condition of the roads and the security reputation make it one of the most choice suburbs in the nation’s capital.

4. Versatility

Boroko is a most nifty suburb. You can live just a street away from your place of work and perhaps a block away from your soccer or netball club training ground with a grocery store two blocks away. You will find large four bedroom houses and bedsits, daycare, primary schools, high schools and tertiary institutions. Whether you like church, club or betting shop, it’s here. Residential, commercial, retail and industrial property. Boroko has so much packed into this little suburb.

5. Security

Security is a factor most Papua New Guineans consider very seriously when deciding where to live, and it’s a powerful reason why many people prefer Boroko. Considering the human traffic and the big events that happen in Boroko, it really is a pretty quiet neighbourhood to live in. The major police station here also helps to keep things orderly.

6. Aesthetic appeal

Boroko is built on what in the 1930s was swampland. This means it is a pretty flat suburb with fertile soil that makes for good gardens if you have the time. It is surrounded by pleasant rolling hills and many streets are lined by white frangipani and orange ixora plants that remind you that you really are in the tropics.

7. Fresh organic food at affordable prices

Boroko has one of Moresby’s three fresh food markets. Boroko market is located opposite the National Football Stadium and has a huge variety of fresh fruit, vegetables, poultry and, at times, seafood. Everything sold is organically grown and by buying here you support local small business. And there’s a bonus - prices that are cheaper than supermarkets.

8. Boroko craft market
   The best kalsa spot

From early June to late September various provincial culture days, kalsa days, and pre-independence celebrations happen weekly in Port Moresby. No other province has as consistent, colourful and dedicated a show of cultural pride as NCD, where every cooking pot has at least one of all 800 cultural ingredients in it.

During this period, people living in other suburbs send word back home for someone to bring an item or two for bilas or go searching from market to market for their provincial dress. Boroko residents however can relax and take a casual stroll down to the craft market that’s open every Monday to Saturday, from 9am until 4pm.

So that’s Boroko. Pretty good place to live, eh?

John Momis & Peter O'Neill at the referendum conference in Arawa, Bougainville - the main decision was to meet again next month

KEITH JACKSON

ARAWA – Friday’s top level meeting between Papua New Guinea prime minister Peter O’Neill and Bougainville president John Momis deferred the crucial issue of what questions will be put to the Bougainville people who will vote on their political future in a referendum on Saturday 15 June next year.

The joint PNG-Bougainville supervisory body agreed to defer the matter until its next meeting in Port Moresby at the end of July.

It was a further instance of the PNG government’s longstanding tardiness – whether deliberate or because of institutional inefficiency – in its handling of almost every issue relating to Bougainville.

At the meeting Dr Momis stressed that PNG was still not providing Bougainville with the grant committed to enable its public service to operate effectively, including meeting salary costs.

He said the Autonomous Bougainville Government (ABG) is “in extreme budget crisis” due to the national government’s failure to make a range of payments.

“The ABG should be receiving K70 million annually under the restoration development grants of which has accumulated to nearly one billion kina.

“This year the national government budgeted K15 million to ABG but until today the ABG has not seen one toea,” Dr Momis said.

“I realise that the national government has its own budget crisis. But the lack of funds being received by the ABG is leading to a desperate situation for us.

“We simply do not have the money to do anything.”

He said he hoped restoration development grant payments in 2019 will reach the agreed level of more than K70 million.

Peter O’Neill said that a trust account has been created and the promised funds will be deposited “soon”. He said he “had brought K5 million with him today” for the restoration development grant.

The meeting noted the “very limited progress” that has been made in transferring national government powers to Bougainville.

This includes the promised transfer of 17.4% of Bougainville Copper Ltd shares from the PNG government to mine-affected landowners. It was said this will be done “in the near future”.

Former Irish prime minister Bertie Ahearn will chair the group that runs next June's Bougainville referendum on its political future

The one matter that was resolved was the appointment of former Ireland prime minister Bertie Ahern as chair of the Bougainville Referendum Commission which will oversee next year’s vote.

But while the two Bougainvillean appointees, Patrick Nisira and Ruby Mirinka, were accepted as members, the PNG government had not decided on its two representatives, which it was asked to do “as soon as possible”.

The meeting also agreed to establish a “post referendum planning taskforce” by the end of 2018 to report on how to ensure peaceful acceptance of the referendum results, develop an agreed basis for the ongoing relationship between Bougainville and PNG, and agree on the holding of a post referendum summit.

ALLYN HICKS

SYDNEY - One of my favourite Australian novels is David Ireland’s ‘The Glass Canoe’. It is set in a mythical suburban West Sydney pub, The Mead, during the 1960s.

It featured the usual cast of misfits, characters and odd balls that seemed to frequent suburban hotels in that era.

The term ‘glass canoe’ referred to a schooner of beer. The regulars would escape the dismal reality of the outside world for the warmth and companionship of the public bar and, once inside, they would slip into a glass canoe and drift off into oblivion.

Naturally the novel contains a lot of swearing and frequent use of Australian slang. Most of the latter I could understand but there was one phrase that completely baffled me.

My quest to find its meaning puzzled me for a long time until the mystery ended in the convivial surroundings of the Boroko Sports Club in Port Moresby many years later.

The phrase in question was used in the novel to describe a well-clothed stranger who walked into The Mead as being “all dressed up like a pox doctor’s clerk.”

The first time I heard the expression, my interest was immediately aroused. What or who was a pox doctor’s clerk, why would he be elegantly adorned and how had this become a very Australian idiom.

The answer, or at least part thereof, came that sunny afternoon at Boroko Sports Club; a haven for those who wanted to have a quiet beer away from prying eyes during working hours.

It was also a hangout for sporting types, being home to the Port Moresby Australian Rules Club, the Magani Rugby League and the Colts cricket team.

The manager of the club, former kiap and politician John Stuntz, drew my attention one day to a gentleman sitting in a corner quietly sipping a beer and asked if I knew him. I didn’t.

John went on to explain that this guy was a genuine pox doctor’s clerk. My interest was piqued. Was my long search over? Could this be the end of my quest?

According to Stuntzi (let’s be informal), this guy was the superintendent of the sexually transmitted diseases clinic at the Port Moresby General Hospital at Taurama.

He was not a doctor but a senior clerk who looked after the interests of the medicos specialising in gonorrhoea, syphilis and other venereal conditions – in other words, a pox doctor’s clerk.

Stuntzi added that the fellow didn’t often come to the club as the enthusiastic nature of Port Moresby’s social scene seemed to keep him very busy catering to what would be a pox doctor’s clerk’s clients.

I must add that my quest was not quite fulfilled as there was nothing special I could discern in the way he was clothed to suggest he was “all dressed up like a pox doctor’s clerk.”

Just the usual short sleeved shirt, shorts and long socks. Perhaps it was accompanied by a tie.

Anyway, it’s been very many years, but my search for meaning continues.

____________

According to Word Wizard, it’s an Australian expression used since around 1870 with a derivation that remains unclear. The best guess is that doctors’ assistants (clerks) dressed flashily but in bad taste and the expression caught on as a disparaging remark. There's further interesting discussion on the idiom here http://www.wordwizard.com/phpbb3/viewtopic.php?t=3669. But it seems Allyn’s quest has some way to go yet - KJ