GRANT WALTON & HUSNIA HUSHANG | DevPolicy Blog | Edited

Read here the full article complete with graphs & explanatory material

CANBERRA - Papua New Guinea’s law and justice sector is set to receive a 22% increase in the country’s 2019 budget.

Treasurer Charles Abel says this demonstrates the government’s commitment to the sector, and to addressing crime and corruption.

Look beyond this headline figure, however, and the rise is not so impressive. Indeed, it doesn’t even make up for recent years of budget cuts: economist Paul Flanagan shows that with the recent increase, the sector will still have suffered a funding cut of 17% relative to 2015.

Focusing on the law and justice sector also overlooks organisations specifically tasked with addressing corruption.

Most of the 13 organisations making up the sector – including the Department of Justice and Attorney General, Royal PNG Constabulary, Department of Defence, National Judiciary Services and Correctional Institute Services – are not primarily anti-corruption agencies, although they do help address corruption.

Here, we home in on what the 2019 budget means for dedicated anti-corruption agencies. We examine the 2019 allocations for the Ombudsman Commission, the National Fraud and Anti-corruption Directorate, Taskforce Sweep (and its replacement: the proposed Independent Commission Against Corruption), the Auditor-General’s Office, and the Financial Analysis and Supervision Unit (previously known as the Financial Intelligence Unit).

We also include funding for PNG’s relatively new Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative.

First, the good news. The government allocated the one anti-corruption organisation included in the 13 agencies that make up the law and justice sector, the Ombudsman Commission, an additional 23% of funding compared to 2018.

The Auditor General also received a small increase over last year — its funding increased 7%: from K17.7 million to K18.9 million (in 2018 prices). These increases mean that combined funding for the six anti-corruption agencies we examine increased, in real terms (that is, allowing for inflation), from K42 to K48 million between 2018 and 2019.

In addition, the funding gap between how much the government budgets for anti-corruption agencies and how much they received, remains closed. In fact, in 2017, anti-corruption agencies received 2% more than their allocations. This is a vast improvement on years gone by, even though anti-corruption agencies are not faring as well as other areas of the budget.

That is where the good news ends.

Recent gains are not enough to make up for a history of cuts and underspending. Between 2013 and 2019, the six anti-corruption organisations we examine saw their funding cut by 56%: from K75 million to K48 million (in 2018 prices). Between 2008 and 2017, these organisations failed to receive K49 million that the government allocated for their operations.

The bad news is compounded by the lack of funding for the much-anticipated Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC). It received only K400,000, which is K100,000 less than last year.

So don’t expect to see an ICAC in PNG anytime soon. While the Financial Analysis and Supervision Unit maintained funding of just under K300,000 between 2018 and 2019, it is well short of the almost K500,000 allocated in 2017. In addition, the Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative has had, in prices adjusted for inflation, its funding cut slightly from K2.7 million in 2018 to K2.6 million in 2019.

The most tragic anti-corruption agency has to be the Fraud Squad, which sits within the Royal PNG Constabulary (RPNGC), the country’s police force.

While the RPNGC had a bump of K50 million– a 19% increase – between 2018 and 2019, funding for the Fraud Squad will not make up for a history of significant cuts.

Next year it is set to receive K640,000 (2018 prices), which is slightly less than 2018, and a full two-thirds lower than its 2016 allocation. The agency that bravely but unsuccessfully led efforts to arrest prime minister Peter O’Neill over allegations of corruption has been reduced to a shadow of its former self.

With K1.3 million to spend on musicians and musical instruments, in 2019 the government allocated the police band more money than the Financial Analysis and Supervision Unit and the Fraud Squad combined.

This continues a long-running trend: it was ABC journalist Liam Cochrane who in 2015 first pointed out that the PNG government directed more funding to the police band than the Financial Analysis and Supervision Unit.

While it is a welcome relief that the government has tempered the savage cuts of previous budgets, the 2019 budget does not make up for years of shrinking anti-corruption budgets and underspending.

Moreover, this budget leaves PNG’s most potent anti-corruption agencies under-funded and under-resourced, which is exactly what some of PNG’s political elites want.

PHIL FITZPATRICK

‘Dogger’ by Philip Fitzpatrick, Independent Publishing Platform, ISBN: 978-1791741747, 390 pages. $A22.89 plus postage from Amazon; ebook for $US1.00. Available in Australia soon

TUMBY BAY - When I left Papua New Guinea in the 1970s I went to work with the South Australian Museum as a researcher and site recorder, carrying out extensive fieldwork in what was then the North West Aboriginal Reserve where people were still largely living in their old ways.

Over the next 50 years or so, between forays to Papua New Guinea doing social mapping, I continued to operate in the Australian outback with Aboriginal people.

In many cases I ended up working with the children and grandchildren of the tribal people I’d first met in the 1970s.

Many of them were descendants of marriages and liaisons with dingo trappers, who were in the region up until the 1980s. The dingo trappers were paid to control the predatory dogs that killed stock.

Many of those half caste children had been taken from their tribal homes and put into orphanages by the authorities. They became what was later called ‘the stolen generations’.

The stories of the dingo trappers, or doggers as they were generally known, intrigued me and I undertook a lot of research about them. Most of that was in the government archives or came from oral histories.

I suppose the appeal of the doggers came about because they represented the kind of frontier men you see in American westerns – rugged individuals living in dangerous places.

I toyed with the idea of writing a conventional history but finally opted for a work of fiction. That seemed like the best way to capture the scope of events and to fill in the unknown gaps.

The book was first published as ‘Dingo Trapper’ in 2010. I wanted to call it simply ‘Dogger’ because that was how they were known, but my publisher seemed to think that could be confused with the doggers who work on high rise buildings.

That original book is still available in second hand bookshops and in many public libraries but, after I got the copyright back, I thought I’d tidy it up a bit, add a few extra details and publish it on CreateSpace using my original preferred title.

The book is set in the 1930s in Central Australia during the desperate years of the Great Depression when everyone was struggling to survive. Among them were the doggers.

The doggers were paid seven shillings and sixpence (about $36 today) by the government for every dingo scalp they could trap or trade with the Aborigines. It was a kind of ‘make work’ program similar to the programs the government set up for gold prospectors.

The doggers penetrated deep into the Central Australian deserts on their camels and often took up with tribal women. Apart from the physical attraction, it was a way to enter the social system and gain a form of protection. From that came the half caste children. 

Enter the missionaries in what they saw as a last ditch attempt to save the wild tribes.  One of their first steps was to try to rid the area of the doggers.

They offered better prices to the Aborigines for the scalps of dingos they trapped or bred and, using devious means, they forced the cancellation of the special leases the doggers had.

In the book the heroine is the half caste daughter of a dogger called Tjulki (Pitjantjatjara for ‘fairy owl’). She rescues dogger Martin McCarthy after he has been speared. One thing leads to another and they set out in life as couple.

Tjulki and Martin struggle to stay together and the battle they have with missionaries and the government makes up the narrative of the story. Their daughter is taken by the government, aided by missionaries, and put into an orphanage. Their pastoral lease is cancelled and handed to the mission.

The drama is played out against the backdrop of a little known period in Australian history. Many of the characters, suitably disguised, were real life figures.

Some of the government and mission people were hard line individuals but many others were sympathetic and that dynamic provides an interesting theme for the novel.

I dedicate the book to an old Aboriginal friend, Wintinna Mick, or Mungatja as he is correctly called. I met up with Mick when he was in his early nineties and we travelled for many years over his country recording all of the sacred places and the songs that go with them.

Mick had been a dogger and had worked on the vermin proof fence, which runs from the Great Australian Bight, west of Ceduna, right up into Queensland and is designed to keep the dingos out of pastoral country.

Mick and I travelled the fence quite often. On one memorable day I piggy-backed him over the sand hills to the water soakage where he was born sometime in the 1890s.

I took the photo on the cover of the book in the 1980s when doggers were still trapping and poisoning dingos with deadly strychnine. The vermin proof fence is in the background.

No one really knew how old Mick was, but I would guess he was well over 100 when he died. As a child in the desert he remembered when the first rabbits appeared in the area.

My late father came with us on some of our expeditions and he and Mick became great mates.

Kondom Agaundo's grave - the words above the tombstone read, 'Tomorrow my sons & daughters will come'. Even in the 1960s Kondom knew a good education was essential for a good future

ALBERT SCHRAM

VERONA, Italy - When I was vice chancellor of the Papua New Guinea University of Technology (known as Unitech) from 2012 to 2018, we worked hard to bring it into the 21st century.

The current management and university council, however, seem to be making an effort to bring the university back to its roots in the 1970s, whether intentionally or through sheer ignorance, incompetence or carelessness.

It is a sad tale of regression which forces me to speak out in an effort to reverse this trend.

The current chancellor Jean Kekedo apparently has a great nostalgia for the 1970s and has remarked several times that she wants to go back to those simpler times.

She believes no member of the university staff should travel abroad and that meetings and agreements can be done remotely through video-conferencing.

Of course, for council members and their friends, exceptions are made, but they can travel only to Australia. It is unclear why this is so, but Ms Kekedo also seems to feel she does not need to explain her decisions.

The University Act makes the chancellor the ceremonial head of the university, but Ms Kekedo acts as an executive, accountable only to the government. As a result, the council has lost its independence and become a rubber stamp controlled by Waigani.

The chancellor has also said frequently that the university should not waste money on the dining hall and in providing meals for students, suggesting that it may remain closed next year. Just like when she went to school in colonial times.

Jean Kekedo

The current university management has failed to understand simple commercial realities and continues to accuse the catering contractor of overcharging although there has been no breach of contract conditions.

This same contractor has acted with goodwill and in good faith. For example, at its own expense it rebuilt a temporary mess facility after the old mess burned down in the riots of June 2016. The management this year frittered away funds to rebuild the dining hall so there will be no new mess building any time soon.

Currently, the university owes the contractor for several months service amounting to almost K4 million, making it the largest private creditor. The university management has stubbornly refused to find a solution and is now on a long vacation.

In these post-colonial days, it has become acceptable to insult foreigners and expel them from the country for no reason other than dislike. The recent debacle of my hasty separation from my job and subsequent arrest on false charges by corrupt police in Port Moresby, destroyed the international reputation and credibility of the university which I had worked hard to restore.

As a result, it is now virtually impossible for Unitech to hire qualified academics with a PhD who have had experience working at world class universities. The university is now bottom feeding and only foreign academics with few options are coming to work at the Unitech.

The university model the council seems to have in mind is of an autarchic (self-sufficient) village, not caring about the rest of the world, closed off from it, brandishing a unique knowledge uninformed by recent scientific advance or the ideas of outsiders.

Leaving aside these absurdities, let’s focus on the basic conditions for research, teaching and learning which represent the core mission of any university. Unitech is becoming an example of a unique experiment - not in education but in the replication of ignorance.

The late Chimbu chief Kondom Agaundo's vision of the 1960s is not being realised: he had wanted a well-educated PNG but the current generation of Papua New Guineans are mostly not getting a better education.

As with many developing country universities, when I became Unitech vice chancellor in 2012, students had no access to learning materials, since the library did not contain current or useful books or other literature.

A survey found that over 35,000 books had probably been stolen and never replaced. These were, of course, the most useful books. In 2012, there was no reliable internet and students did not have access to or possess internet enabled devices such as smartphones, tablets or laptops.

In just the few years after 2014, we improved the power supply, established a good internet service and provided students with laptops. This was done without any extra funding or help from the government.

O3B satellite earth station

At first, internet access seemed an unsolvable conundrum. PNG had (and still has) no reliable fibre network. In 2014, the president of Divine Word University made me aware of the O3B satellite system.

During leave, I visited O3B headquarters in The Hague and convinced them to take on their first and only university client. We then built an earth station with two tracking satellite dishes, which was opened by then higher education minister Malakai Tabar and went operational on 1 June 2015.

The need to upgrade the internal campus network was immediately evident but, regrettably, this is where things went bad. The newly recruited IT director seemed to have other priorities and his eyes left the ball. A large investment in upgrading the wifi network turned sour and coverage got worse. New investment was needed to address the situation.

Another spoiler attempt came from Huawei, which wanted to provide the routers. The offer however was not transparent. The company made a promise to set up a service centre in Lae, which never materialised. As a consequence, the university wisely stuck with Cisco, which offered good support.

Sharing and exchanging knowledge is multiplying knowledge. Since no country in the world has a monopoly on knowledge or talent, universities from their inception in Italy in the 11th century have always had an open, international outlook. In fact, this is a condition for assuring a vibrant academic learning environment.

During my tenure as Unitech vice chancellor, I was proud to have hosted the first visiting professors in 2016 from India and in 2017 also from Australia and Europe at minimal cost to the university. Many of these visitors stayed for a whole semester and taught both undergraduate and graduate courses.

The failure of management to follow through on arrangements with foreign universities, which in 2018 and 2019 would have sent dozens of visiting scientists a year, means that this type of knowledge exchange has stopped.

The current generation of students do not have post-colonial hang-ups. They just demand better services and qualified and experienced lecturers. The recent actions of the current council and management do little to create an acceptable learning environment or improve the education of students.

The PNG government’s and Unitech council’s hostile actions this year towards me and my colleague vice chancellor John Warren (of the University of Natural Resources and Environment), also forced to flee the country, have now made it virtually impossible to recruit qualified and experienced foreign academics.

Without knowledge exchange and the appointment of strong academic leaders, the external professional accreditation of engineering programs will not occur. Industry support will diminish. This year the annual graduate survey did not take place, showing there is no interest in finding out whether students are employable.

A university has a different mission and requires a different kind of leadership than a village, whose purpose is to provide security and conditions for basic subsistence to its inhabitants.

It is painful to watch how the university council and management are discovering at the expense of students that it is much easier to throw rocks than to use them to build bridges. Let's hope better leadership will soon be restored.

JOSEPH TAMBURE

Corruption started as a speck of dust
Nourished by its mother wantok system
Seemingly innocent in its early stage
But gaining power an undue respect
Under the guidance of its mother

Once mature, there’s no sympathy
Nothing for the people of the country
Corruption turns all it touches dark
Turns heart, eyes and ears to another world
Leaves behind a trail of endless strife

Then corruption's axe men come
With just one goal to seek to destroy
They spreads greed, poverty and death
Prices sky high, services degrade
And someone says the good news is
We are progressing well, we are fine

He who sits at the highest throne
Doesn't know what’s happening down and around
Conscience burned out, no feelings no guilt
Saying everything is good, we are fine
The country in the hands of a black heart

Tess Newton Cain

TESS NEWTON CAIN | TNC Pacific Consulting | East Asia Forum

BRISBANE - The changed and changing geo-strategic environment of the Pacific islands made its presence known on numerous occasions during the year. After decades of neglect, the region was ‘rediscovered’ by strategists in Australia, the United States and elsewhere.

The influence of China in the Pacific has been the subject of much debate and analysis, some of it of questionable quality.

While China’s engagement with Pacific island countries is not new, it has become more significant of late. A year of jumping at shadows and knee-jerk announcements culminated in the APEC summit, held in Port Moresby in November.

China cemented a number of key bilateral relationships with Pacific island countries by securing sign-ups to its Belt and Road Initiative.

Nervous Western allies sought to reassert diplomatic and strategic strength through some big announcements, including a redevelopment of the Lombrum naval base on Manus and an ambitious plan to bring electricity to 70% of Papua New Guinea’s population.

Earlier in the year, the renewed geopolitical competition between China and Taiwan caused headaches at the meeting of the Pacific Islands Forum leaders in Nauru, which saw the Chinese delegation walkout from the Forum Dialogue Partners meeting.

A referendum on independence in New Caledonia in November was another significant event this year. First envisaged in the 1998 Noumea Accords, the referendum was long awaited.

While the result was largely as expected (to remain a part of France), two other aspects of the vote stood out. One was the high turnout (over 80%) and the other was the narrow margin of the result (56.4% ‘No’ to 43.6% ‘Yes’).

Other than some sporadic unrest immediately after the voting concluded, the referendum proceeded smoothly and peacefully. There is the possibility of two more independence referendums following the process established under the Noumea Accords, with the next anticipated to be in 2020.

2018 also saw the second round of elections in Fiji since the 2006 coup. In the lead up to elections there was a great deal of focus on the battle between Prime Minister Voreqe Bainimarama and Sitiveni Rabuka, leader of the Social Democratic Liberal Party and reformed coup leader.

Rabuka was subject to legal proceedings relating to alleged fraud until the eve of the elections, when the public prosecutor’s appeal against acquittal was dismissed by the High Court.

The elections saw Fiji First return to government with Bainimarama reinstalled as prime minister but with a significantly reduced majority, reflecting a swing away from his party of more than 9%. Notably, there are now 10 women in the Fijian parliament. At 20% of the total, this is a significant achievement in a region where rates of female representation in national decision-making are among the lowest in the world.

In early December, opposition parties issued a petition challenging the results of the elections, which the High Court will determine by the end of the year.

The influence of Australia’s domestic politics trickled into the Pacific islands on several occasions throughout the year. A change in leadership saw the replacement of former foreign minister Julie Bishop, a well-known figure in the region, with Senator Marise Payne.

Fresh from her stint as minister for defence, Payne’s first job was to attend the meeting of the Pacific Islands Forum leaders in Nauru in place of the new prime minister, Scott Morrison. His absence was noted at home and away, and continues Australia’s poor track record in this regard.

2018 also saw the burgeoning Seasonal Worker Program come under attack on the back of a push by National Party MPs and the Farmers’ Federation to bulldoze through an agricultural visa, regardless of what the impact might be on strategic relationships in the Pacific.

Policy disunity in Canberra is a longstanding weakness of Australia’s Pacific engagement. It is hoped that the new ‘Pacific office’ in the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, which aims to foster a whole-of-government approach, will go some way to improving things.

Finally, this year saw an escalation of concerns expressed by Pacific island leaders about the lack of global solidarity with and — worse — active undermining of regional ambitions to tackle climate change.

Whether because of bad manners on the part of ministers or failure to support the global leadership of the Marshall Islands’ Hilda Heine and others, there are indications that patience with extra-regional partners is wearing thin.

Australia has much to do in this regard to justify its ‘Pacific pivot’ and prove that its renewed commitment to the region is about more than power politics.

Tess Newton Cain is an independent researcher and analyst with over 20 years of Pacific experience. She lived in Vanuatu between 1997 and 2016 and is a citizen of that country

John Momis and Peter O'Neill negotiate the Bougainville independence referendum - but the people remain divided and confused

LEONARD FONG ROKA

ARAWA - Between March and May this year, the referendum directorate of the Department of Bougainville Peace Agreement and Implementation left the autonomous province to consult with Bougainvilleans outside Bougainville.

Meanwhile, back at their island home, the people were confused even though June 2019, the time of the referendum to decide their political future, was only about a year away.

Thousands of kina were spent for this team to visit Bougainvilleans in Port Moresby, Madang, Mt Hagen, Lae, Goroka, Rabaul and Kimbe to ask what the diaspora thought about the many aspects of the dawning referendum.

But here in Bougainville, where the majority of the people reside, little was progressed.

I live amongst the ordinary people of central and south Bougainville and I am appalled by what I come across in the villages.

While government leaders in Buka talk confidently from their comfortable offices, our people are laughing at them and saying and doing things beyond the imagination of the leadership.

In Bougainville today there are a number of groups claiming to be the real government of Bougainville. Many readers would be familiar with Meekamui and the Royal Kingdom of Papala.

Meekamui has a number of groups spread across Bougainville with their own agendas and associated conflicts.

Apart from these groups there are others keen to see Bougainville to kneel before them. These people could be tagged as warlords.

And there are also religious groups and individuals offering their own teachings on Bougainville politics: Catholics, Protestants, traditional belief systems and a mixture of the three.

Furthermore, each of these persons or groups have followers. They have their own spheres of influence in business and politics. All our legitimate politicians in Bougainville and in the national government in Port Moresby approach them with caution and not with the power entrusted in them by the ballot box.

Many of these rogue groups or individuals are importing guns and ammunition. A number claim they are arming for the referendum. They say the current leadership of Bougainville is controlled by the Australian and Papua New Guinean governments.

“During the [civil war], Australia aided the PNG military and killed us,” one of these people said to me. “Now they are here giving us peace and taking control of the Autonomous Bougainville Government.

“Should we trust ABG? No. The ABG is now a government of the consultants from Australia. In the Buka ABG administration compound there are more consultants’ vehicles than ABG personnel.”

Another told me, “I know when we vote in the referendum, PNG will not grant us independence with all sort of reasoning. Then I know which leaders I will kill.”

Travelling along the highway to Arawa from Buin I listened to my fellow travellers arguing. One of them, an old man, said he was not going to enrol with his community to be listed on the referendum voting roll.

“I and my community are set, we will not enrol in that referendum roll since the leaders are really bad,” he said.

“They only talk in Buka and never come to visit us. The late Joseph Kabui was a good leader who was with us all through the crisis.

“Who is this Momis? He is selling Bougainville to the Asians. Asians are now in control of our business. So why did we fight? To sit and watch Asians raping us?’

Amongst the travellers many supported him. “What he is saying is real,” a man commented. “The ABG has gone off track and the peace agreement is the thing holding them from sinking us.

“Australian consultants are in charge and they have placed little kids in the ABG administration.

“Our peace process was achieved by people without much education but who had deep understanding of Bougainville’s problems. These leaders have been removed.”

What the world must now know is that, in this post crisis, pre referendum period, every individual Bougainvillean is pursuing their own survival.

Politics is not in the heart as it was at the peak of the crisis and under the reign of leaders who moved along with the people on both sides of the unrest.

The confusion amongst our people as the hour of referendum moves closer is the result of poor leadership.

In Bougainville today, a little news of a leader’s misconduct distracts the hearts and minds of the people.

Developing better leaders is a task all should be thinking about. Although it has a referendum, Bougainville still has a long road to freedom.

MARLENE DEE GRAY POTOURA

Maria couldn’t stand it any longer. She liked the children on the school bus each morning and afternoon, but it was the continuous farting she couldn’t stand.

They always did it when she wound down the windows and turned on the air conditioning. The smell each time was different and was getting worse. She often wondered what their parents fed them at home.

Maria had been driving the school bus for a year now and had been prompt with her pick-ups and drop-offs. But the continuous farting was driving her crazy.

She wound down the windows and instructed everyone aboard to do so.

“It’s John, he ate crabs last night,” Sebastine yelled and Lara agreed, shaking his head vigorously.

“Hey,” John yelled back in a high pitched voice.

“Okay, calm down, relax and let’s wind up the windows and turn the air-conditioning on again,” Maria said calmly.

The windows were wound up and the air-conditioning came on, along with FM 93.3.

Then it drifted around the bus again. A real killer this time.

Maria held her breath, stopped the bus on the side of the road and got out.

She forgot the children, until she heard them screaming and thumping the windows. She opened the door and told everyone to wind down the windows and let in fresh air. Other buses slowed down and the drivers shook their heads, but Maria gave them a thumbs up to show they were okay.

‘Dear me, why do I keep on driving this bunch of fart heads?’ She shook her head and leaned on the side of the bus, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

“Miss Maria, it was Grace. She was asleep and it slid out,” Maryanne reported through the window, fluttering her eye lashes.

Maria laughed loudly, and the children stared with confused looks on their faces.

‘Oh dear, slid out hahaha, where did this kid hear that one from?’ Maria laughed until her eyes were misty.

She got back into the bus and dropped each child at their home. The last one was John, so Maria told him to move to the front and sit next to her. He lived at the end of town.

“Miss Maria, my father beat my mother last night,” he said without emotion.

“What?” Maria glanced at John, shocked.

“He landed the broom on her head,” he said matter of factly.

“Why?” Maria asked, wondering where the conversation was leading.

“Because, she cooked the crabs wrong,” John answered and shook his head.

“Oh, that’s no reason to hit someone’s head with a broom. So how is your mother?” Maria asked.

“Well, she got so angry she swung the frying pan and the crabs flew everywhere and one landed on my dad’s head and he screamed and ran out of the house. I ate what was left,” John said.

“What?” Maria nearly burst out laughing, but she kept a concerned face.

“A crab landed on your dad’s head, but you ate the other one?”

“Yeah, the sizzling crab, Miss Maria, hot with the oil, landed on my dad’s bald head. I ate three crabs not one,” he added quickly.

Maria hardly believed she was hearing about a sizzling crab landing on someone’s bald head and a six year old eating three crabs.

“Mum went into the room and slammed the door. Dad kept screaming outside, which set the dogs barking. Then he got in the car and scraped out the gate.” John said.

“I turned on the TV and watched Shrek gobbling slugs while I ate the crabs,” he nodded to emphasis the importance of his story.  

“What?” Maria glanced over at John for the umpteenth time, her mouth open wide.

“Yep, before he ate the slugs he pulled the wax out of his ears and lit it to give light so he could enjoy the slugs,” John raved on, nodding.

“What? Who?” Maria asked.

“Shrek, Miss. He uses ear wax as candles,” John explained.

“What?” Maria looked at John unbelievingly.

“Yeah, he eats slugs and worms,” John continued.

Maria looked at John and kept driving.

Oh, good grief, kids say the dandiest things.

“And he farts,” John looked smugly at Maria.

Maria laughed, suddenly realising she was caught in the ‘don’t underestimate kids’ thing. They are full of smart tactics and this kid was trying to explain something.

“Oh really? He farts?” she looked at John.

“Yes Miss, he is a fart machine,” John finally smiled.

“Who is a fart machine?” Maria was now very interested.

“Shrek is a fart machine, Miss. He farts whenever he feels like it. He says, ‘It’s better out than in,’ when he burps, but when he farts he has this smug smile,” John grabbed his school bag from the seat.

“John, have you been farting?” Maria couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes Miss, and today I just couldn’t hold them in. It wasn’t the crabs, it was the slugs that Shrek ate,” he winced, holding his stomach.

“What?” Maria was confused. “Are you okay?”

“While I ate the crabs, I watched Shrek eat the slugs but I felt I was eating the slugs,” he grimaced again.

“Oh, that’s not good. How did you feel afterwards,” Maria asked glancing at him.

“I farted and couldn’t stop farting. I felt I was Shrek,” he answered.

“How do you feel now?” Maria asked.

“I still feel like Shrek, Miss,” he glanced over and she caught his eye from the side.

“Well, you aren’t Shrek. For one, he is an ogre and you are not. You are a little human named John who ate three crabs last night,” Maria smiled and touched his arm.

“Yes Miss, I ate three crabs while my dad and the dogs were howling and my mum sulked in the room.”

Do kids really say things like this?

Maria slowed down and looked at John. He was a normal six year old in Prep. But she had just confirmed that kids are the greatest gossipers, talkers, reporters, conversationalists and walking informants.   You can get anything out of them, but only if they willingly told you.

Then, as if on cue, John started again.

“Miss Maria, I wish I lived with you. I don’t like my home,” he sniffed.

Maria was taken off guard and didn’t know what to say.

“Oh John, I wish too, but you have such wonderful parents. They love you and take good care of you,” Maria’s eyes were glistened with tears. But she concentrated on driving, focusing on the busy road.

“I have no one to talk to. They are always tired and yelling half the time,” John told her.

“They might have too much work at their offices and are tired when they come home,” Maria told him softly. ‘Oh, dear me, how do you talk to kids withthesekinds of issues’, Maria’s head started throbbing.

“My dad kicked Mantis this morning,” John’s voice was shaky.

“Who is Mantis?” Maria asked.

“Mantis is my dog, Miss. He is my only friend. I don’t like people getting cross or mistreating him. He doesn’t do anything wrong.”

Maria now knew John was lonely and in need of a friend he could trust and talk to. His parents seemed to work too hard and didn’t give him family time.

“Oh dear me, John, we are at your house now. But let me stop the bus and let’s talk for five minutes, yes?” Maria smiled at John.

“Yes, Miss Maria,” John smiled back.

Today was the only day in Maria’s life that she had an interesting conversation with a six year old Preparatory student. It was the most interesting conversation that started from a fart, crabs and a broom.

Maria had an idea.

“Tell you what? Would you like to go swimming this Saturday at the pool? You can ask two of your school friends to come. I will buy you pizza and drinks.” Maria still couldn’t believe she was saying this, because on Saturdays she usually attacked the bargain shops in town.

“Yessss please, Miss Maria,” John yelped and Maria could see the transformation on his face, knowing he had something wonderful to look forward to. Happiness glowed.

Maria decided to forget about the farts and keep driving little people who lived very interesting lives.

Stanley Iata at his street stall

HOSEA KOS | Facebook | Edited

PORT MORESBY – He was a fine, energetic 28 year old young man. Stanley lata, mauspas– an illiterate deaf mute with no educational back ground.

But he sold stuff at a small stall in Waigani serving customers from Tisa Haus, Manasupe Haus, Telecom Haus and NID Haus.

On 9 November, for some reason, he was surrounded by city rangers and four police reservists who arrived where the mauspas was selling.

He was tied up with a fan belt around his neck, punched, kicked and bashed up like an hunting dog and then dragged into a white open backed vehicle where several more punches occurred.

Mauspas was taken to the National Capital Development Corporation depot where he was arrested.. While in custody he was hit by an iron pipe until he lost consciousness. When he woke, he was undressed and fully searched and robbed of his personal belongings and the day's takings.

He was then released by the city rangers. Being mute and & deaf, he was unable to talk and his only means of communication was by sign language.

After many days in bed in severe pain, on 8 December he lost consciousness again and was taken to Gerehu Hospital, being referred to Port Moresby General Hospital on 10 December where he was put on life support.

Stanley lata - Maupas - died on 14 December, the doctors saying he had blood clots in his brain and heart.

The city rangers have a lot to answer for.

Bal Kama

BAL KAMA | DevPolicy Blog

CANBERRA - The people of Papua New Guinea woke up to 2018 as the ‘year of APEC’. The thought of having some of the world’s most powerful leaders descending on the rough yet fertile soils of PNG appeared unreal to many, but blissful to some.

The assurances of what it would mean for the country were a notch higher with the government promising social and economic transformation.

The population was divided: some driven by pride curiosity supported the cause; while others, unable to quantify any meaningful progress on their daily challenges and amidst failing social infrastructure, remained sceptical.

The APEC show began with new hotels erected, roads paved and the construction of the spectacular APEC Haus along the Ela Beach. These were some of the most significant infrastructural developments the country had ever seen.

Security was amped as political leaders urged residents in Port Moresby to embrace the foreign tides that were about to visit its shores. But buried away from the APEC limelight were the country’s realities.

A weakening health system that was unable to prevent the return of polio from its long absence; the simmering tensions in local communities from the controversial elections in 2017; and the daunting offshore loans that will continue to burden future generations.

These were just a few of the ‘demons’ that haunted the country as it braced itself for some salvation though APEC.

As polio made its unwelcome entry into Port Moresby, the contrast became stark – a booming city under the spell of a global event was also under threat from a killer epidemic. As it turned out, the polio threat was contained but the message was clear – there is chronic negligence in the delivery of basic services in the country.

In June, the country’s security and social fragility was brought to the fore with the burning of a passenger plane in Southern Highlands province following a court decision against a candidate who disputed the outcome of the provincial seat in the 2017 election.

The supporters of the candidate also burnt the province’s national court house and the residence of the governor, and destroyed properties belonging to prime minister Peter O’Neill.

In response, the government declared a state of emergency and deployed soldiers to the scene. Only four months away from the much-anticipated APEC meetings, these were no ordinary events. They appeared to represent the deep distrust and resentment among the people against institutions and representations of power and governance in the country, including the system of justice.

As APEC drew nearer, another controversy engulfed the embattled yet highly optimistic organisers – the ‘Maserati Affair’. It came about as a result of forty Italian Maserati luxury cars being purchased at an exorbitant price – vastly unsustainable in PNG post-APEC.

What followed were reckless assurances from the minister for APEC as the country came to grips with the government’s habit of undertaking costly exercises yet being unable to adequately fund basic services.

APEC itself was successfully delivered without any major incidents during the two-day event. For that, credit goes to the government and all the support agencies, both from the public and the private sector, including foreign governments.

However, in hindsight, PNG will need to carefully reconsider undertaking another such event in the future. Ambition and pride aside, the country needs to take a sensible approach to its development and investment priorities.

The storming of the parliament by some members of the police force over non-payment of APEC-related allowances less than 48 hours after the event demonstrated the need for such sensibility. It was reported around the world, and did a lot to undermine the good impressions the government had worked hard to create during APEC itself.

Domestically, the incident not only hinted at the institutional challenges facing the country, especially with regards to law and order, but also represented distrust in the institution of Parliament, those that occupy it and what it represents.

These attacks on constitutional institutions – the storming of parliament and the burning down of the national court house – call for an awakening and self-assessment as to the realities facing the country and a greater responsibility on those in leadership positions.

One such reality is the growing weakness in anti-corruption efforts, which some would argue, was vividly depicted in the recent exoneration of fraud charges against Paul Paraka. It was a case that, until December 2017, also implicated the prime minister in what appeared, at that time, to be the biggest corruption scandal in the country’s history.

Another reality is the weak state of the PNG economy. Formal sector employment is back at the level seen in 2011, even though the population is now some 20% bigger. The government continues to talk up the economy, and push forward international loans and mega-resource-projects, but the lived reality of the population naturally makes them sceptical.

A positive outcome from APEC was the competition among those seeking strategic advantage over PNG.

China continues to leave big footprints in PNG in terms of solid infrastructure developments.

The partnership between Japan, New Zealand, Australia and the US to undertake an electricity project in PNG could be a game changer in terms of public perception of the allies, and PNG’s own development.

In addition to overcoming the potential geographical and governance challenges, the partners will need to ensure that the project is not only delivered as promised but that it is delivered at a higher standard to distinguish themselves from the Chinese-sponsored projects often accused of being low quality.

Ultimately, however, PNG cannot be rescued by competing “big brothers”, but will shape its own future. The achievements, lessons and promises of 2018 and the kind of future it will shape for the people of PNG remains to be seen.

What is certain is the desire among the Opposition to remove the O’Neill government. The impending vote of no-confidence due in February 2019 and the Bougainville referendum later in June are likely to stir new dramas.

As Christmas carols serenade the neighbourhoods of Port Moresby, some will be plotting the looming political change in the New Year, while others will party with the spoils of corruption.

As for the majority of the people across the country and in the forsaken villages, Christmas will be a time of happy celebration but also just another day in their long struggle to see light at the end of their tunnels.

Michael Kuweh - "Manusians are on the defensive. We have been smeared beyond all description"

BENJAMIN ROBINSON-DRAWBRIDGE | Radio New Zealand

AUCKLAND - The reputation of Papua New Guinea's Manus Island has been smeared and its people need to be compensated, says church leader Michael Kuweh.

Mr Kuweh is a layman and spokesperson for the Catholic Diocese of Manus.

The indefinite detention of refugees for nearly six years on the island has brought it into disrepute, he said.

"This is a place that has been tarnished because the Australian government dumped its responsibilities on the island and it has affected nearly 70,000 people on Manus.

"It's not the fault of the refugees, it is the fault of the Australian government who decided to follow a 'Pacific Solution'."

The foisting of hundreds of young, male refugees on the island has led to incidents of hostility and violent conflict with locals.

About 40 children have been born to refugees and local women some of whom have reportedly turned to prostitution.

"They say 'Manus is like hell... Manus is not a place to live because it is very dangerous.' This was never part of our culture or image that was promoted, only when the refugees came around," Mr Kuweh said.

"Manusians are on the defensive," he said. "We are being labelled as a place that no one should visit. We have been smeared beyond all description."

About 600 men remain in detention on the island in three transit centres near Lorengau town. Seven Manus refugees have died since 2014 through murder, medical neglect and suicide.

Suicide attempts and self-harm have escalated since the men were forcibly transferred about 30 kilometres from the prison camp at Lombrum in November 2017.

In September that year, the Australian government paid about 1300 Manus detainees $AU70 million in compensation for suffering in conditions branded inhumane and torturous by a UN special rapporteur.

Mr Kuweh said Australia now needed to make amends with the people of Manus, who wanted the detention project "out".

"The Manus people are no longer good in the eyes of the world because the island has been branded 'not a good place to be'," he said.

"The Australian government owes us a gift package."

"And in part of that, they must come to help restore the image of the province."

While development on the mainland had been funded through the deal PNG struck with Australia to detain the refugees, the layman said the island only got "spinach".

Some of its roads had been resurfaced, some schools had been improved and a market and a police station had been built but that was not enough, Mr Kuweh said.

"The gift package for compensation should look around five or six billion kina ($US1.5 billion)," he said. "It could be more."

Mr Kuweh said Manus Island had a long and unsuccessful history of accommodating refugees and people displaced by conflict.

During World War II about 5000 Manusians were forced off their land when America captured the island from Japan and built military bases, Mr Kuweh said.

Then in 1968 when PNG was an Australian colony, refugees from West Papua fleeing Indonesian occupation were settled on Manus in a camp near Lorengau.

Some of their descendants are still there.

"It has been a burden on us for a long time," Mr Kuweh said. "We would prefer this refugee thing goes. We have our hands full."

Climate change was likely to create more refugees as "80 percent of Manus people are coastal inhabitants and islanders," he said.

But the planned resurrection of the naval base on Manus Island could add to the island's unfortunate legacy of displacement.

Phil Fitzpatrick

PHIL FITZPATRICK

TUMBY BAY - The critical analysis of the Papua New Guinea government and the nation as a whole is a regular feature of PNG Attitude.

The analysis has tended to become more negative over the years, particularly since Peter O’Neill’s Peoples National Congress came to power.

A lot of the negativity associated with his government has unfortunately rubbed off on the wider nation. The Papua New Guinean people have, in effect, been tarred with the same brush as that applied to its government.

Much of the negative criticism on PNG Attitude understandably comes from Papua New Guinean writers and commentators but there is also a significant contribution from Australians with experience in the country.

While the criticism in the latter case is generally well-intentioned it is easy to detect a certain sense of superiority running through many of the arguments.

This makes one wonder whether such a self-satisfied attitude is actually justified and whether there is not a hint of hypocrisy. Australia, after all, is not without its own problems and faults.

Take, for instance, the criticism of Papua New Guinea’s history of logging and land clearance.

There is no doubt that PNG has an appalling rate of deforestation and land clearing. Recent statistics suggest that 1.4% of its tropical forests are being lost annually.

This is mainly due to illegal logging, which contributes 70-90% of all timber exports, one of the highest rates in the world.

Papua New Guinea has lost 640,000 hectares of forest to logging in the past five years and 3% of its total tree cover since 2000.

That’s terrible and clearly unsustainable, especially given the impact on land owners, habitat and climate change, but consider the following statistics.

Australia has lost 25% of its rainforests, 45% of its open forests, 32% of its woodland forest and 30% of its Mallee forest in the 200 years since settlement. That gives Australia one of the highest rates of tree clearing of any developed country in the world

When you think of devastating deforestation and animal extinction you usually think of the Amazon, Borneo and the Congo. But eastern Australia ranks alongside these in the top 10 of the world’s major deforestation regions.

Most of the clearing is happening in Queensland, and it is accelerating. Despite having less remaining woody vegetation, Queensland clears vegetation almost twice as fast as Brazil clears the Amazon forests.

In other words, Australia and PNG are as bad as each other when it comes to land clearing and its impacts. Neither country is in a position to criticise the other. Both governments have failed their people miserably.

There are many other examples that can be pointed out. Another is the exploitation of mineral resources and the devastation that can cause, especially when the revenues are shipped overseas with the ore.

You could argue that as citizens of a developed nation Australians should be using their own failures to advise their nearest neighbour of the pitfalls of following similar paths, be it in governance, budget responsibility or resource exploitation, but the argument falls flat because what we would be warning against is still very much alive in our own patch.

The governments of Australia and PNG are on the nose, they are both accidents waiting to happen, train wrecks in the making. All caused by a lust for power and the riches it brings.

The people in both countries are bystanders with little hope of changing anything.

Australia still has many clear advantages over PNG; we have better health and education systems, our law and legal institutions are robust and our politicians and public servants are nowhere near as corrupt as those in PNG.

We are also just as good at criticising and lampooning our own leaders, this comes across strongly in the Australian comments on the blog.

Nevertheless, any advice we offer has to be measured. We have to be careful how we criticise others.

Perhaps one thing we could do is pay a bit more attention to what people in PNG are saying, not only about themselves but also about us.

A Digicel telecommunications site in Western Province

A FORMER DIGICEL EMPLOYEE*

PORT MORESBY -Since Digicel Singapore Pte Ltd came to Papua New Guinea in 2012, its main revenue source has come from the establishment of mobile telephony towers all over the country.

Mostly the towers have been constructed on customary land owned by the people of PNG.

Digicel PNG goes into villages with a contract form for landowners to sign approving the erection of a mobile tower. When signed, the contract becomes a legal agreement binding the two parties.

The only difference between these contracts signed throughout PNG is the rental to be paid to landowners which is predicated on where the mobile tower is located. If the tower is situated at a remote location, the rental will be lower than if it is in an urban centre.

While acquiring land for the towers, Digicel PNG was known to have acquiescent third parties sign contracts without the consent of the true landlords. It is possible Digicel did not know this.

This gave illegitimate persons access to rental payments. It can be relatively easy to mislead illiterate and legally ignorant village people.

In circumstances where rent is deviated to third parties it is also possible for part of the rent to make its way into other corrupt payments. I believe I have evidence that this has happened within Digicel PNG.

I was in a position to observe this for a long time and I believe it is still going on today.

As a result there are many landowners from all over PNG who have discovered they are not receiving payment for the use of their land. When provincial Digicel offices say they cannot handle the issue or if they ignore complaints, landowners sometimes travel to Port Moresby to raise the issues at Digicel head office.

Here they are provided with many reasons why they are not eligible to receive rental payments.

The landowners are often asked, “Do you have any agreement in place?” The Digicel officers know very well that the landowners do not have the agreement as they have already signed a contract with another party.

The landowners of course respond “no” and are told "you must present the contract agreement to get payment and if you do not have the contract you are not the legitimate landowner”.

This process is repeated with all landowners as they seek to establish their rights.

Digicel PNG has also seems to have found another way to circumvent landowners who have a contract. They pay them just part, perhaps half, of what is supposed to be paid every six months.

Let me give you an example. Three landowners from Sepik, Morobe and Daru flew to Port Moresby to unearth information regarding why their rental payments had not been received.

After some time seeking answers, they were sent off with a promise that the money would soon be paid into their bank accounts. No payment was made.

Whenever the landowners checked, they were told “next week the money will be paid”. Eventually they flew to Port Moresby again to raise the same issues and confront the staff face to face, but no senior manager would meet with them.

A junior employee was sent with a message “the payment will be made next month”.

Other people who do not have the money to come to Port Moresby just give up.

Most landowners, even if they have a contract, do not have the erudition to bring these matters to court. And in the few cases where they do, they rarely have enough money to pay for a skilled lawyer. So the entire process becomes too hard.

Every Tuesday and Thursday outside the Digicel Officer at Section 494, Allotments 1 and 2, Kennedy Road, Port Moresby, frustrated landowners wait for their claims to be settled.

They will wait in vain. These people require assistance to exercise their rights and to remedy the wrongs they believe have done to them.

The CEO of Digicel PNG needs to step in and ensure his organisation is entering legitimate contracts and dealing with landowners fairly and honestly.

Landowners deserve to have their rightful rentals paid. They deserve to have legitimate contracts honoured and illicit contracts reworked.

Instead of taking advantage of the unlettered, this organisation should deal with them honestly and fairly.

To remain silent on these issues is to sanction them. It is to condone poor ethics and worse.

* The Papua New Guinean author’s name is known but has been withheld at his request

RAYMOND SIGIMET

Bahen woke up drenched in sweat. The night was silent. He closed his eyes again and listened. He could hear the betel nut fronds rustling in the cool draught that had found its way into the room.

There were three betel nut trees near the window. Their rustling made him feel cold. And a sharp dryness burned the back of his throat. A persistent mosquito buzzed near his ears. He whacked at the net.

For some unknown reason his body ached. He felt stiff. His quadriceps felt like he'd climbed countless hills. Cold sweat had formed on his forehead. He struggled to sit up.

The cool morning air coming through the open loosely-draped window made him shiver uncontrollably.

Goose-bumps pricked his arms and legs. His heard the crow of a distant rooster.

The mosquito returned, whining. ‘Bastet moskito! Wokim planti nois tumas.’ [Bastard mosquito! You’re making too much noise.]

Bahen picked up the thin laplap blanket and wiped the sweat from his forehead and back. The laplap was damp cold in his hands. The pillow and mattress were also damp. The warmth of a few seconds ago already consumed by the cold and odour.

Achooo! The mix of stale air and cold draught made him sneeze. He wiped his nose and groped under his pillow for the torch. He decided against switching it on. ‘Maski, mi sindaun long tutak pastaim.’ [Forget it, I’ll sit in the dark for a while.]

He shut his eyes for a few seconds and opened them again. His eyes could now make out the interior of the room. He untucked the mosquito net from under his bed, ducked under the net and crawled out.

He sat quietly in the dark. His mind played over the scenes again, putting them all in chronological order. ‘Displa em wanpla kain diriman. Ol diriman blo moning save gat mining.’ [This dream is one of a kind. Dreams that come in the morning hours usually have meaning.]

Bahen grimaced at the bad taste in his mouth and reached out to his billum, fingers searching for the lime pot, a buai nut and a mustard stick. He broke the nut slowly, placed the buai in his mouth and the husk in his bilum to be disposed later. As he chewed, his thoughts again shifted to the cause of his discomforting awakening.

It was a dream of substance and significance. And the meaning was not lost to him. He was conversant in the oral traditions that explicate on dreams and their interpretation. He saw the dream again. To him, it was peculiarly personal.

_________

I was straggling through an unrecognisable forest. Walking and walking and walking. It seemed like there would be no end, that I would be walking in forever.

I heard something familiar. Rustling feathers. I stopped and looked up. A karabakaun, a messenger bird, perched on a tree branch. When it saw me, it began to dance and sing:

Bahen go wok saksak!
Bahen go wok saksak! 
Bahen go wok saksak!

The bird disappeared and I found myself at a clearing. In my hands were my axe, bush knife and pam for scraping sago. For a moment, I stood there and thought about the bird and its song. ‘Karabakaun singsing pinis. Mi bai go wok saksak’ [The karabakaun already sang. I am going to scrape sago.]

From where I stood, I could see one of my prized sago tree standing tall and proud. It was matured and ready to be harvested. There was a deep sense of satisfaction as I walked towards the tree. But for every step I took this pleasurable feeling dissipated and a feeling of dread gripped me.

I couldn’t turn back or restrain myself. My legs thrust me forward towards the sago tree. An air of trepidation engulfed me. When I came closer, I saw that instead being a healthy tree it had spoiled from the inside. Insects had eaten the starch.

_________

It was then that Bahen woke sweating and discomforted. And now the morning birds and roosters were competing to welcome dawn’s first light. He got up, pulled on his shirt, unlocked the door and stepped onto the verandah.

He would wait until there was more daylight before he'd walked to the rural health centre to check on his sick father, brought to the centre yesterday after complaining of chest pain and shortness of breath. The health workers had wanted him admitted for observation overnight.

Bahen understood. His father had little time left.

Senator Penny Wong -  aware of the Pacific's sensitivity that Australia do its part in the struggle against climate change

TESS NEWTON CAIN | Vanuatu Daily Post

VILA - Last Tuesday in Adelaide, on the fringe of the Australian Labor Party’s national conference, around 160 people gathered. It was, by all accounts, the best attended of these events.

They were there to hear from former foreign minister Gareth Evans, shadow foreign minister Penny Wong, and shadow defence minister Richard Marles. The focus of the event was Australia’s role in the Pacific and what a ‘new era’ under Labor might look like.

Marles said he found the size of the turnout “heartwarming”. Quite so. I hope that he and senator Wong also saw it as a very clear signal that what they think, say, and (possibly) do in relation to the Pacific is no longer a niche issue that no-one really pays attention to.

All spoke emphatically and were well prepared. Even given the small amount of time allowed, this was not a one-dimensional discussion. All the big ticket items were covered – climate change, security, aid, labour mobility, infrastructure – although none in any great detail.

So, has this side of Australian politics been listening to what we in the Pacific have been saying?

Certainly the speakers were at pains to emphasise that a Labor government would engage with Pacific states on the basis of ‘partnership not patronage’.

There was an explicit recognition that if Australia wants better relationships with Pacific states, it is something that needs to be worked on. And there was discussion of partnership in various forms: with Pacific island countries first and foremost and with other regional powers, including New Zealand, China and the USA.

Wong was explicit about the need for Australia to be seen to be doing more ‘at home’ to mitigate the impacts of climate change as well as supporting adaptation in the region.

She is now able to point to a motion passed by conference that commits a future Labor government to an emissions reduction target of 45%.

If Australia is able to take this to next September’s climate summit to be convened by the secretary general of the UN, it will make Australia a stand-out performer among developed countries in terms of raised ambition.

However, when pushed as to whether Labor should do more (such as placing a ban on any new coal mines), Wong was non-committal.

More widely, the senator was emphatic about the underlying approach that she and a Labor government would adopt. Having experienced colonial attitudes herself growing up in Malaysia, she was adamant there would be no place for them in a ministry she leads.

When Marles spoke about security and defence cooperation, he was careful to avoid language that might jar with those who have expressed concern about announcements that conjure up visions of militarisation of the Pacific.

He said he remains open-minded about the proposed redevelopment of the naval base on Manus in Papua New Guinea. His focus was much more on exhorting Australia and Australians to ‘fall in love’ with the Pacific as the basis for relationships that are about partnerships and not driven by some sort of strategic denial agenda.

Evans reflected on his Pacific experience when he was foreign minister and also offered up some suggestions for his younger colleagues to consider if and when they take office.

Among them were not to use the term ‘our patch’ when talking about the region (he admitted that he had made that mistake himself previously), and to get the ABC back into the Pacific on shortwave radio.

He was also in favour of adopting the current government’s initiative to have a Pacific office within DFAT to facilitate more and better whole of government engagement in Canberra.

There were no new announcements during the event, but there were plenty of references to previous commitments: to increase the aid budget to 0.5% of gross national income from its current level of 0.22% (but we don’t know the detail of how this will be done or over what period), to institute an infrastructure financing facility to provide grants and loans, to work within the Pacific Islands Forum as the premier political grouping, to reinstate the position of Minister for the Pacific and International Development (it was downgraded to the position of assistant minister by Scott Morrison).

Years ago Evans talked about the importance of good global citizenship as a guiding principle for Australia’s foreign policy. At this event we heard Marles say that how Australia behaves towards and in the Pacific “says a lot about who we are and what we are on about in the world” and Wong say that Labor’s attitude to engaging with our region is informed by doing the right thing rather than in order to gain political advantage at home or away.

Elsewhere there was talk of Labor developing a Pacific policy to be launched ahead of the Federal elections next year.

I hope that what appears in this policy is informed by listening to the people of the region that Penny Wong assures us is ‘front and centre’ when it comes to Labor foreign policy.

Leaders of Australia, Japan, PNG, New Zealand and the US vice-president announce a major electricity project in PNG during November's APEC summit. (AFP)

JOHNNY BLADES & JAMIE TAHANA | Radio New Zealand Pacific | Extracts

Link here to read the full version of this excellent review

AUCKLAND - It was a busy year for the countries of the Pacific, which had more global spotlight than usual as it found itself in the middle of feuding great powers.

That brought a slew of new deals and partnerships, but also pressures. 2018 was the year the world discovered the Pacific.

On the broad view, the year has been dominated by speculation over China's surging influence in the region, and the reactions from Australia, New Zealand and the United States.

The region was suddenly being splashed across global publications, and delegations from around the world have been visiting with increasing frequency.

For all the talk of shared histories, family ties, friendship, common interests and other diplomatic platitudes, beneath the surface was a particular realpolitik. China's forays into the Pacific - which have been going on in the open for many years - were really starting to make the west sweat.

Pacific countries have been visiting Beijing for the red carpet treatment and signing on to the ‘Belt and Road Initiative’, but it's drawn warnings from the likes of Canberra and Washington about so-called debt traps and security concerns amid panicked talk of military bases in Vanuatu, which raised both eyebrows and chuckles.

In 2018 Australia and New Zealand reacted with vigour to the China factor, with both Wellington and Canberra launching into their respective ‘Pacific Step-up’ and ‘Pacific Reset’ strategies.

There have been aid increases, new diplomatic postings, scholarships, infrastructure projects and health programmes, including grand strategies for internet cables and massive electricity projects - and a plan for an Australian naval base in Papua New Guinea which the US has joined in on.

However, much of the analysis around this frenzy barely registered the voices of the Pacific Islands themselves. Far from an oceanic chess board for bigger powers, the Pacific Islands governments are also playing the game - and each other.

Generations on from independence, Pacific leaders are acting with increased autonomy and confidence - but that doesn't mean there aren't major problems.

Papua New Guinea

The APEC summit in Port Moresby brought an intense, albeit brief, global spotlight on the Pacific Islands' largest country, its struggles and its growing geopolitical importance.

Having invested so much in hosting APEC, Peter O'Neill's government was powerless to stop the summit being overshadowed by tension between the US and China, although it did come out of it with some big development packages.

However the tide may finally be turning against the wily O'Neill, who has dominated PNG politics for the past seven years, with a motion of no-confidence likely to be tabled early in the new year by an energised opposition.

He has so far proven masterful at maintaining the support of a majority of MPs, but the O'Neill government is running low on cash and political capital.

The signs of social breakdown in PNG are many, while people's frustrations with the government boiled over this year in alarming fashion: in the destruction of an Air Niugini airplane in the Highlands, and a rampage on parliament by police and security forces straight after APEC.

For a public struggling for access to basic services amongst natural and man-made disasters, the government won no favours by bringing in the Maseratis, nor through an attempt to sideline the country's best journalist.

Bougainville

The Autonomous Bougainville Government has been having more struggles to secure outstanding constitutionally guaranteed payments owed it by PNG's national government. The funds are important for Bougainville as it prepares for a crucial year.

Seventeen years since a decade-long bloody civil war formally ended, the independence referendum promised as part of the 2001 peace agreement is fast approaching. In a plebiscite tentatively set for June 2019, the people of Bougainville are to be asked: do you agree for Bougainville to have Greater Autonomy or Full Independence from PNG?

But several significant questions are yet to be answered, especially when it comes to how an independent Bougainville would support itself.

Talks on the possibility of reopening the Panguna mine (which was the catalyst for the civil war) were shelved at the beginning of the year because of the divisive nature of the issue, although other mining projects are being developed.

Meanwhile, PNG's police fraud squad was brought in by the autonomous government after it had announced there was widespread misappropriation within the public service.

Australia

Australia dived head-first into its much touted Pacific 'Step Up' this year. Yet far from taking strident steps, Canberra managed to bungle a lot along the way.

It announced billions of dollars’ worth of projects around the region - from infrastructure, to health, to telecommunications, to a naval base and a massive electricity project in PNG (which may not be as straightforward as it sounds). But there was no hiding the fact that the main driver for Canberra's renewed interest in the region was China.

Australia remains the region's largest donor by some margin, but it's out of sync with some of the region's key concerns. There was the drive to water down the climate communiqué at the Pacific Islands Forum, and then the lack of climate policy and promotion of coal at home was obvious to the leaders of island states who looked on in disdain.

Then came the threat to Australia's small but important seasonal workers program. Despite Australia now being a member of the UN Human Rights Council, its policy of detaining of refugees on Manus Island and Nauru, has spiralled a humanitarian crisis for Canberra, with little prospect of ending soon.

Then, in the latest crisis at the bottom of the Pacific's arc of instability, Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull was jettisoned from the top job, and his foreign minister Julie Bishop - who front-footed the step up - resigned the portfolio. Mr Turnbull was replaced by Scott Morrison, the former immigration minister who once hugged a lump of coal in parliament.

New Zealand

New Zealand's new government kicked off the year by announcing its so-called ‘Pacific Reset’, which foreign minister Winston Peters said was about "resetting" the relationship with the Pacific, trying to listen more to the Pacific Islands as an equal.

While it doesn't have the deep pockets of Canberra, Washington or Beijing, New Zealand also announced significant increases to aid and projects in the region, and is significant boosting its diplomatic presence.

New Zealand's approach is about trying to firm an image relatively independent of Australia and the US. In the Pacific, New Zealand and Australia are often thought of as much of the same which, as described above, can make things difficult with what's going on across the Tasman.

But this policy is as much about the need to maintain New Zealand influence in the islands in the face of China's surge, even if Wellington's words have been less brazen than Canberra. In recent times, New Zealand's own relationship with China has come under increased scrutiny in its domestic politics.

There are signs that Winston Peters' Reset policy has gone down well with Island governments, and we can expect further big announcements next year.

The full article, which can be linked to here, includes condensed coverage of the political year in Fiji, New Caledonia, Vanuatu, French Polynesia, Samoa, Solomon Islands, West Papua, Tonga, Marshall Islands, Nauru, Guam, Tokelau, Cook Islands, Niue and the Pacific Islands Forum

Don Wiseman, Sally Round and Mackenzie Smith contributed reporting

WARDLEY BARRY

‘Everyone lives through the night. Let the moon guide you, but do not follow it.’

I should’ve listened.

Here begins another miserable night, one night after a thousand. I was sure the moon was my very own even when I saw it shining for everyone. An uncanny paradox. A festering sore. A vacillating delusion.

A black moon shines for me. Why? A red sun sinks behind the great Mavoyati. How? Two burnt roses grew on my beard. She plucked them out and and drank wine from the pores. Bitter. Sweet. Gone.

Some nights you forget, some nights you don’t want to remember.

An owl hoots on the window sill, bidding me to count the stars. Has God forsaken this path? Is this my ‘valley of the shadow of death’? I refused to heed the protests inside my head. Hoe-ly hypocrites! Spineless spirits!

My father and my fathers before him were vicious sorcerers—tukavu warriors. Who’s afraid of the night when it only begets the sun? Must I be scared of the wind that blows higher the flames on my bamboo torch? I must live! I must love! You guys are girly gir—alas! The owl again.

The night is tall and throbbing, like masalais dancing on dry banana leaves. A firefly implored me to make a wish. It is my grandfather coming back, my wasman. I grabbed it and wished for the night to pass and you-me to last.

But what is a wish to the dead? My bubu is dead. The moment is dead. It has lost its sweetness. All these memories are but the carcass of a beautiful lie.

I’m alone now. I recalled loving you just three seconds ago. Time! Treacherous! Torturous!

My mama didn’t ask papa for jewellery; she wanted a kaukau garden. She didn’t expect roses; she was content with kapul meat. No promises were made; they sang tumbuna songs by the firelight.

I got you rings and chocolates and wrote you beautiful poems. We had long romantic walks every afternoon, longer phone calls in the night and much longer chats on WhatsApp filled with emojis. Sweet. Bitter. Gone.

Even my posin cannot keep us forever. There’s a new powerful posin. Tonight I admit defeat.

We gathered the shreds of our promises from the floor to clothe our torn egos. There is no us. When we made love, it was on a bed of deceit, wrapped in the inanity of youthful dreams.

Our orgasms betrayed our emotions; we conceived hate in love and lay back exhausted as if we had just arrived at the top of Mavoyati after hours of climbing.

We gave too much of ourselves. I saved too little for myself. You left with everything: my pride, my prestige, my privileges…. I am left only with my screwed virginity and a glass of remorse which I am forced to drink slowly.

Like a saint drunk from a vestal’s vaginal champagne, overdosed from her toxic spells, I stumbled onto the street, an unvirgined innocence creating a halo over my head. I remembered clearly now what my father told me.

The night was married to a foreign morning. Everyone lives through the night. If you live it now, live it carefully. Live it wisely. Let the moon guide you, but do not follow it. Do not true—never!

There’s no moon for tonight. There’s no sun for tomorrow. I am stuck in this night, the product of a thousand nights of childhood fantasies and coveted fairy-tales. Snow White was actually black. She’s from Kelerakwa mix Kairuku. There was no prince. A Big Man rode on two fat pigs and swept her away to Wapenamanda. The end.

I survived to write this story. Now bury me in the shades of the pikus where we once played papas and mamas.

Vocabulary

bubu – grandfather or grandmother
Kairuku – an area in the Kairuku-Hiri district of Central Province
kapul – cuscus (possum)
kaukau – sweet potato
Kelerakwa – a village in the Aroma District of Central Province
masalais – demons or gods of trees, lakes, mountains etc.
Mavoyati – a mountain located in Yagusa village of Okapa District, Eastern Highlands Province
papas and mamas– a game where children pretend to be parents; daddies and mummies
pikus – a tropical parasitic plant believed to be haunted by masalais
posin – a sorcerous spell or potion; literally ‘poison’
tukavu – a form of sorcery popular in the Okapa District of Eastern Highlands Province
tumbuna – ancestor, ancient
Wapenamanda – a district and town in Enga Province
wasman – guardian

RAYMOND SIGIMET

We were all at our mess table, table number seven. Table number seven was in the middle row at the end of the east wall of the St John’s Boys School dining hall.

Above table number seven, on the wall, was a small crucifix and ‘Grace-before-Meal’ inscribed on cut-out black prints.

We exchanged small chit-chat and munched on breakfast as we waited for the bell.

The devoted Brother Richard, of the Order of St John, stoically made his rounds among the rows of tables and bobbing heads, his fingers working the rosary beads and his lips moving in silent prayer.

Scattered biscuit crumbs and spilled tea littered our mess table. For lunch and dinner, the staff would come with their own mess to spill on the tables. The dining hall was a discord of narratives, banging cups and shuffling feet.

At my end of the table, I was busy observing an army of ants scavenging biscuit crumbs when my concentration was disturbed by three hard knocks on the mess table.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

“Okay guys, listen up!” It was Tobias. “If you’ve been forgetful or busy looking at the clouds and not consulted the notice board, according to the schedule for evening prayer our table leads this week. Uh, starting this evening.”

All fourteen eyes were on him now. “Here’s how we’ll organise,” he continued after downing his remaining tea. ”Max, you take the first decade…."

“But TB, I recited the last time our table took lead!" Max protested.

"I know Max, but you have a good voice. And, uh, if you think about it, last week I did you a big favour. You’re going to repay that favour this evening. No whining," Tobias responded.

Since Tobias talked and talked and talked all the time, the members of table number seven, in a spirit of subservience, let him assume the role of table leader in mess duties and responsibilities concerning the table.

Tobias was in Grade Nine. Everyone called him TB. It might have had something to do with tuberculosis, I wouldn’t know. To everyone in school, he was TB.

The mess table seated eight. Four on each side. Table number seven had a Grade Ten student, two Grade Nines, three Grade Eights and two Grade Sevens. Eight different characters, cramped together every meal time all through the year. You got to know each of them; details that would stay with you as memories.

Gibson, the Grade Ten, didn't talk much. He was a lone wolf. You didn't see him much during the school week but on weekends he’d be found lying under the school's Southern Cross water tank at the back of the senior dormitory totally engrossed in either a Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys detective adventures. Everyone called him Gibbs the loner.

"Okay, I'll begin the first decade but someone has to take lead next time," Max responded and slumped on the table.

Maximus was in Grade Eight. He was a good, humble kid but well known in the school because of his soccer skills. He had scored the winning goal in the recent final of the schools’ carnival. He was given a packet of mint lollies for his effort by the team matron, Ms Maggy-May.

"Ford and Stone, you two will follow Max. You can decide yourselves who will be first." Tobias looked at the twins sitting together facing me.

Both looked at him timidly and nodded in unison still munching on their biscuits.  

Ford and Stone came into this world together as identical twins. Actually, their names were Johnsford and Johnston. It made things easier to call them Ford and Stone. As long as you identified with their names, you could distinguish their faces. They were strikingly the same, like human clones.

Their father owned a construction firm that won many government contracts. They said their father wanted them, his only sons, to take over the business one day.

"SP and PS, you two will close the prayer,” Tobias said. “Decide for yourself who'll be the last man on the platform." The two class mates nodded.

The initials SP and PS had been construed by table number seven for the duo. Simon Peter, the class captain of 8A, and Peter Simon, the bass guitarist in the school band. They were the best of friends, inseparably close. The members of table number seven respected them because of their roles in the school.

The bell rang and the dining hall erupted like a market place as uniforms and feet raced towards the exit.  

"Okay table number seven, I think we are set for this evening. And please, don’t be late." Tobias rose from his seat and looked at me. "Since you won't take lead in reciting the Hail Marys tonight, you and Gibbs can help me clean up the table for lunch."

JANE BELFIELD | 25 December 2007

'Tis the night before Christmas,
And all through the house
Little creatures are stirring -
From cockroach to mouse.

There are moths in the wardrobe
And fleas in the bed;
Angry ants in the breadbin;
Rabid rats in the shed.

There's a snake in the ivy
Outside the front door,
And redback and whitetail
Spiders galore.

There are snails in the lettuce
And bugs in the milk.
The sandflies are biting,
And (more of their ilk)

Ravenous mozzies
Are lying in wait
Under the tankstand
Near the back gate.

Another fat blowie
Just buzzed in for a while...
Ah, well! Merry Christmas,
Australian style!

Terry Shelley - entrepreneur, philanthropist & humorist - died on 28 December last year. We miss him

TERRY SHELLEY | 25 December 2009

GOROKA – I want to report for PNG Attitude on a couple of incidents that happened here during the year so that the B4s may know all is not doom and gloom.

One of the night shift workers came to me one morning stating he had liklik worry.

When I asked what the problem was he explained he had taken his false teeth out to eat his Navy Biscuit and, when went to pick them up, he saw a rat racing off with them.

Unfortunately he was unable to catch the rat before it disappeared down a hole.

He requested if he could have the teeth replaced as they were his front ones. Goroka Hospital came to the rescue at K20 per tooth.

On another occasion I requested my welder to measure the circumference of a screening barrel.

He replied: "Maski, em hat tumas.”

I was just about to give him a good old serve when he pulled out a tape measure and measured the diameter. Then he punched the number into his Nokia Mobile.

He then said: “Em ia, em mak bilong em."

I was astounded and asked him: "Yu savi long pi r²?”To which he replied "Nogat mi savi long 3.146," or whatever the number is.

Who said there was no progress in PNG?

Emma Wakpi

EMMA WAKPI | 25 December 2012

My Dearest Motherland -  I am writing this letter on the eve of Christmas to let you know how much I love and appreciate you. This time of the year reminds us of what we should be thankful for and of what love is really all about.

Often times we argue so much about what is wrong and right and how it’s supposed to be done nowadays but at the end of the day, you are family, you give me my identity and I find my comfort in your coarse gruffness which conceals a heart so fiercely loyal to me.

At times I pine for things other nations can offer their children and am ashamed to admit that in my youth I’ve oft rued the fact that destiny saw fit to make me a Papua New Guinean; but as I have grown and experienced what life has had to offer - as opportunities have allowed me to visit other countries and cultures; I have discovered that no one is perfect and even the most ideal of situations have their faults.

Looking back I realise the privilege of growing up as a Papua New Guinean and the unique traits that helped create my identity.

Nowhere else on earth can I find a family so diverse and realise the feat it takes to congregate hundreds of nations into the single entity known as PNG and to keep it functioning.

Individual identities are not smothered but like jigsaw puzzles are being pieced together to complete a picture. How this picture will turn out, only God knows.

I am an integral part of that overall puzzle - my piece of the picture you are designing. The way you are shaping me is altogether unique, the experiences and memories are what constitute my mind, body and soul.

I realise this now and do not want to take for granted the encounters which you have allowed to mould and shape me.

I therefore would like to reminisce and share with you the impact that you have had on me and how you’ve helped shape my life up to now…

I see myself blown up and shaped into a puzzle piece (for aesthetic purposes let it be the capital letter E). The top half of the letter is yellow with flecks of orange. 

These are the  times of my early childhood, the experiences of my village…

Adults sitting around the open fire in the evening as I lie at the back drifting hazily upon the quiet conversations about the garden and its yields.

That stubborn pig that’s always escaping from it’s fenced parameter.

The recounting of bygone days with revered ancestors admired for their feats of hunting, fighting, gardening.

Then rising at dawn to hear my grandfather sharpen his axe as he sings old chants; seeing his toothy, bearded grin as he stoops to enter the hut to prepare our smoky breakfast of sweet tea and roasted bananas – his specialty.

I hear my grandmother lovingly calling out to her pigs in the pig house as she ties ropes around the front ankles, leading them to good feeding grounds for the day.

My attention is caught and catapulted to the surrounding kunai hills as my uncle lustily exchanges the morning news with yodlling neighbours while my aunt and mother listen in and make ready their bilumswith the supplies eeded for a day of gardening.

I see myself straddling my grandfather’s shoulders, clinging to his hair like a young kapul as he  ffortlessly carries me along, balancing his spade and other working tools on one shoulder while climbing the small hill to work the family garden.

And of him letting me sneak off to play with other children hunting cicadas, grasshoppers and any critters we can safely eat.

The bursts of emotional experience now sweep over me.

The sheer excitement as groups of children and older teenagers go mushroom hunting when the season has started and the cautionary voices of my grandparents telling us to bring everything home to identify before it can be consumed.

The feeling of complete contentment and fun as I see my mother and older cousins and aunts fill bilums full of bedding and clothes, talking and laughing as they take them to the nearby river to launder.

I find myself playing tag with other children, diving and splashing about in the cool shallow pools and drying ourselves, basking lazily like lizards on the big stones.

In the afternoon I follow my older cousins and their friends to the nearby hill which has been laboriously watered to make a slippery slope. Each child has brought along banana trunks with carved designs stylised from twigs and leaves.

The fun as teams are formed and pairs race each other to see who can reach the bottom first while successfully clinging to the banana trunk. The exhilaration of speeding down that hill and taking risk; whilst bathed a dusky red by the wet mud.

I see my grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins clinging to me and crying as my father gently pries me away from them and carries me into an airplane. The people inside look fresh and crisp and I am in awe of the air stewardess.

The straight hair, red lips and pencilled eyebrows fascinate me but this is swooped aside and my heart soars as the plane takes off and a complete sense of surreal wonder overwhelms me as I watch everything fade and cars and houses become like the toys that Dad always brought home when he came on his breaks. 

He is taking my mother, sister and I to that place where he works. When we arrive, the place is green and dense, blanketing and swallowing up everything.

It is a colour I’ve never experienced - my own village canopy allowed sunlight to at least filter through and tinge everything a yellowish gold; it is not so here, and it is a bit frightening.

But slowly it grows on me and envelopes me in its mountainous embrace, solid and soothing. It is in this mass of green comfort that I learn to speak and read English, to bond with my nuclear family, to make friends in church and school and to become comfortable with neighbours from other countries.

There is a sense of wonder at the modern world I’ve stepped into. Walking into our kapa house for the first time, it seemed hollow and so full of air and light. Everything is new, white and exciting – the light and fan switches, faucets, shower basin, flushing toilet and we even have a washing machine.

Oh the wonder of turning things on and off at the switch of a button or a twist of a knob – no smoky lamp and fires to blow, no running down the slope to cart water from the watering hole, no more pit toilets in the middle of the night where my
imagination terrorises me with shadows cast from the kerosene lamp. 

And dad shows me the television for the first time. What words can describe that feeling? (I learn to speak and read English watching Sesame Street and Play School every morning and afternoon with mum.)

The sense of awe extends to the start of my education. As I walk into my prep class, Mrs Bignal intrigues me. The red hair, nails and lips contrast sharply with her pale countenance and she seems rather stern but I soon find out she is fun as she untangles me from behind my mothers’ skirt and tells me to go play.  

Mr Canham, my 2nd grade teacher (reading a portion of the Arabian Nights every afternoon), introduces me to the world of books and helps me discover the magic of the cool library with soft bean bags and captivating shelves holding imaginations of every kind.

Many a lunch and after school session finds me holed up devouring anything that grabs my interest.

The jungle green now transforms into a deep red hue with flickers of black. This is the dawning of my self-realisation - of trying to discover who I am and how I should live in this country called PNG.

My existence consists of several dimensions -my family, my culture, my peers, my faith; I attend high school and university and interact with various nationalities and cultures. How do I balance them all?

I find my friends “don’t get” my village life so that becomes my private world where I escape to every school holidays to fall into the loving arms of family and where modern amenities are exchanged for a more primitive setting in smoky huts as I snuggle close to my grandmother and listen to her singsong voice retelling tales of old.

Of squatting next to my grandfather as he operates on the slaughtered pig for our “family Christmas” feast.

Of wandering into the jungle with my aunt and uncle to see them clear land for new gardens, of following my cousins as they participate in the Christmas games of volleyball and basketball where the rules are made up and which I find a bit too rough for my now town bred self.

But I enjoy watching and cheering and every now and again brave the swinging arms and thrusting hips to play.

My culture has certain expectations of me as an educated man’s daughter. How I conduct myself in the village, how I dress, how I react to situations, knowing my place - there is a structure which places me on a certain level and this is in stark contrast to the independence I am so used to in school.

I huff and puff and grumble but know that I must comply or else bring shame to my family.

How do I do it so I don’t feel as if I’m being coerced into something? How do I do it so that I am not condescending but sincere? I realise love, respect and understanding of world views is crucial to achieving this balance.

Having been exposed to a broader view of the world and having decided toward the end of my high school days to accept Christ and follow his teaching, I realise that unconditional love and seeing things from another’s perspective brings understanding.

For this I am thankful for my parents counsel; they too have had to tread this path - my nuclear family helped me fit better into my extended family, culture and Papua New Guinea as a nation.

And now, as I accept myself and my place, I can with understanding address issues that to me are wrong - the flickers of black. Not all things are rosy recollections. There 
are kinks in the cultures and ways of my people and I continue to struggle against them.

But for the most part I am at peace, I love and am loved fully in return and find 
contentment in my identity – I have a place in this world where I can wholly belong - to know who I am even as I interact and am drawn in by an ever increasingly global world and its persuasions. 

My dear PNG, as I ponder all this, I realise the privilege and richness of my life.

I thank God for creating me and choosing me to be your citizen and placing me in your care to be shaped and fitted; to experience what I have experienced and to work toward an even better future.

I love you and honour you and this Christmas, as we reflect on the meaning of giving; of love unconditional bestowed with abandon to all mankind, I pray God grant me the
grace to live out a life of integrity and love so that I can make you proud.

Merry Christmas and forever yours, Emma :-)