How the discarded siblings forgave their parents
12 September 2015
An entry in the 2015 Rivers Award
for Writing on Peace & Harmony
AKINA Kamane and his wife Moro and their three children lived harmoniously on a steep hill. Of the three kids Waim and Kerenga were boys and Ogan a girl.
At the age of seven they enrolled at a nearby primary school. Kerenga was a bright kid and Akina and Moro focussed on him and gave less attention to Waim and Ogan.
One afternoon, Akina called his kids for the dinner and, before handing out the dishes, he told them to sit around him.
“Kerenga is quite intelligent so he will continue in education,” said Akina, “but Waim and Ogan cannot continue since your results are poor. Rather than going to school, you will make gardens and tame the pigs.”
Waim and Ogan were shocked and cried out bitterly. They sought their father’s leniency to allow them to continue since it is everyone’s right to be educated.
They asked their father to give them a second chance. But their father ignored their request.
“I don’t want to waste time, effort and resource on stupid kids like you,” he said.
Waim and Ogan had no choice but to listen to their father. So they remained at home helping their parents while Kerenga went to school with a smiling face.
Some years later Kerenga completed his tertiary studies and secured permanent employment with Internal Revenue. He lived a happy life in the city and forgot about his parents and siblings at home.
On a golden day, Akina Kamane and Moro went to Kerenga’s house in the city for a visit. He gave them a poor reception and turned a blind eye on them. Kerenga demanded that they return home the next day with empty hands.
He even decided not to help them with the bus fare. The couple cried and returned to the village with regret in their hearts.
By this time, Waim and Ogan were well known farmers in the village. They produced surplus food to sell at the market and they earned a lot of money from their hard labour.
They were happy with their lives and their riches and forgave their parents.
Waim and Ogan wholeheartedly helped their parents and shared with them what they produced and earned.
Akina and Moro were very happy and gave their blessing to Waim and Ogan and begged their forgiveness.
“I branded you as stupids and stopped you from going to school,” Waim said. “I regret bitterly and withdraw those bad words, and now I seek your leniency as a father.”
Waim and Ogan looked at their parents with admiration and shed tears with them once they heard that statement.
“Dad and mum, you are special and deserve our forgiveness. Have peace of mind and live harmoniously with us without regret,” said Waim.
“We accept your apology and forgive you wholeheartedly,” said Ogan.
“I will ignore and forgive Kerenga so he can continue his new life in the city,” Akina Kamane declared with tears in his eyes. “We will live at our level at home.”
They accepted each other’s words and embraced one another with glowing hearts.
Ogan and Waim organised a mumu and shared the pork meat with their parents as a sign of forgiveness and reunion.
Great analogy and inference between Michael Dom And Phil which draws the insides of the story from a wider perspective on the life style of a Melanesian Society.
In other words its quite thought provoking to do alot more write ups as such.
Thanks a lot gentlemen.
Posted by: Jimmy Awagl | 22 September 2015 at 06:34 PM
Angra Paul Wii, great remarks.
A family is the prime source of unity and it happens between the discarded siblings and their parents. They were generally kind and forgiving to unity as a family.
The was happy to relaise his own mistake in life.
Posted by: Jimmy Awagl | 22 September 2015 at 06:29 PM
Right you are, Phil.
Maybe we need an icon to lead the program, like the Road Safety awareness...
I hear Mal Meninga, of rugby league fame, is actually quite a successful vegetable farmer in Queensland.
With a little imagination this so called Paradise might blossom into the boasted Promised Land and actually reap the proverbial milk and honey, rather than emptying out the metal ore, oil and gas.
Posted by: Michael Dom | 19 September 2015 at 10:44 AM
There's a bit more to this story than meets the eye I think.
There's an element of the Prodigal Son here, but this one doesn't crash and come skulking home to create jealousies. Instead he becomes selfish and greedy and stays that way.
The other interesting thing is the inference that only the dumber kids stay in the village and become subsistence farmers.
This has been a perennial problem in PNG, even before independence. Anyone with a smidgeon of education naturally heads for the city and the bright lights, mostly to be disappointed.
It's still a sad fact and doesn't augur well for the future.
Michael Dom has been rattling on about this issue for ages now and not getting much traction.
There needs to be a campaign to highlight the prestige of being a farmer.
Posted by: Phil Fitzpatrick | 19 September 2015 at 07:50 AM
It's a good story, bro.
I'd like to believe that, like his siblings, Kerenga loves his parents.
However, he is a victim, if you like, of the current adverse socioeconomic circumstances confronting the working class in PNG.
I like the way you conclude the story.
Kerenga's father understood him in the end, and forgave him.
A family unit should remain intact no matter what.
Good story, bro. Keep writing.
Paul
Posted by: Paul Waugla Wii | 18 September 2015 at 09:08 PM
Thanks Robin for the analogy
Most time kids look after their parents for their final blessing despite their first descions not suitable.
Posted by: Jimmy Awagl | 13 September 2015 at 05:05 PM
Good read, Jimmy. It fits well with the current El Nino dilemma, pointing out the importance of agrarian skills amid a developing world of city-bred dependencies.
Posted by: Robin Lillicrapp | 12 September 2015 at 07:42 AM