Simple and true: Peace is within you & me
02 September 2015
An entry in the 2015 Rivers Award
for Writing on Peace & Harmony
I called my brother in Port Moresby and told him that I was making plans to go to Bougainville to talk to the man who assassinated our father.
“Why do you want to do that? For goodness sake, Marlene, just write the story; forget about the interview.” He was angry.
“I want to ask him and find out why he did it and how he feels about it now,” I said softly.
“Oh, you’re going to break our mother’s heart,” he argued.
“The man’s still alive. When he goes, we’ll never know the truth.”
“Who wants the truth? Our father is dead!’ he yelled and hung up.
My father was generous and kind with a forgiving heart. He planted the seed in me, showing me that forgiveness did not come from others but from yourself.
As a young girl swimming in the pristine rivers and roaming the always green Orian valley, I learned about the importance of embedding peace in my heart so I should never carry an invisible load.
My grandmother, Kovou, wife of Potoura, was the second born in the Popui family and her big brother, Tunu, was the chief.
Kovou was wise in her dealings with her people and also chose to convert to Adventism, after the first Seventh Day Adventist missionary, Pastor Billy, crossed from the Solomon Islands to Oria and surrounding villages bringing Christianity with him.
When I was growing up, I spent a lot of time with Kovou, listening to her stories on how to live correctly.
She frequently talked to me about forgiveness and once shared with me her thoughts on the afterlife.
She also told me that, before Pastor Billy came to Oria, the deceased in our village were cremated over open fires.
“We went to our gardens and uprooted sugar cane and bananas. Then we’d line the logs on top of each other, then more fire wood, then the bananas and the sugar cane. Finally, we decorated and hung colourful bush leaves and flowers all around the structure.
“The deceased was then placed on top of the structure. The whole village and neighbouring villagers came to express forgiveness from their heart before the dead person was burnt to ashes.
“If one didn’t forgive, Ololouvo would never open the gates of heaven and hell and the deceased’s spirit would come back in anger and haunt those who didn’t forgive.
“It was Pastor Billy who introduced the burial of the dead. Every night we would go to the deceased’s house and sing hymns to show we bore no grudges and that we forgave them if they ever did us wrong.”
When I was about 12, I had an argument with Tony, my 13-year old male cousin, over some marbles and we had a big fight. He punched me on my left cheek causing my face to swell.
The next day I was sick and couldn’t join my friends for a Pathfinder camp. I was very angry.
Every time Tony, came to our house, I told him to leave. I hated him.
Finally, it all ended when he got on our vehicle and I kicked him off and chased him with a stone. My father was disgusted at what I had become.
He talked to me and told me that the anger I felt inside would destroy me. He told me to forgive myself.
“Forgive myself? Why?” I asked.
“Before you say sorry to Tony, you must forgive yourself,” my father replied.
“He punched me on my face and I got sick and didn’t go to camp and my group members had no leader,” I said angrily. “He is the one who needs to say sorry.”
“You forgive yourself first and then your heart will accept Tony’s forgiveness,” father explained.
“Anger eats away the goodness in a person. It destroys your good character. Living well, having peace, comes from within you. Only, when you forgive yourself you can have the peace to forgive others.
“Always forgive yourself first and then you will feel forgiveness toward others.”
So as I grew up, I learned about forgiveness in a different way. I was told that, even if someone hurt you, first forgive yourself, calm down and then forgiveness will find its own way.
I didn’t know the meaning of these words, until my father was killed during the civil war. I was filled with anger, hatred and remorse. These feelings burned in my heart.
I attended peace ceremonies in Bougainville, but didn’t feel anything. Writing has always been a way of escape for me.
On 23 August nine years ago, the anniversary of the day my father was killed, I woke up at four o’clock in the morning, with the memories of forgiveness that I was taught.
I knelt down and told God that I forgave myself and asked Him to forgive me so that all other forgiveness would naturally take place in my heart.
Since then, I have acquired the confidence to write my father’s story. I bear no grudges against my father’s killer or those who mistreated my family or any other person who did me wrong.
I have accepted the fact that wars can bring out the worst in humans and that forgiveness must reign if we want to live again.
Living a peaceful and harmonious life depends on me; accepting myself as a person, forgiving myself and knowing life is there to be lived.
When we forgive, accept and respect ourselves, the gift of peace rolls into our lives. Then we relate peacefully to our families, our communities and our country.
Peace is in oneself, I was told by my father.
Hi Rolland, the memories you keep of my home and village is truly heart warming. Yes, Loluai river will always hold memories for my family.
Thank you for your interest in my family. Truly, your time in Bougainville was quite special and you treasure it all. God bless you and your family..
Posted by: Marlene Dee Potoura | 05 September 2015 at 06:10 PM
Hi Marlene, another beautiful story of Oria. I still remember your beautiful village and the pristine rivers below the village. Absolutely you are right by saying pristine...looking down from the village on the hill side. The beautiful airstrip where it runs down next to your family home, truly magnificent when you airborne, looking back towards Mt. Takuan and below lies the mighty Laluai river then flying over the Laluai bridge into the ocean... Very beautiful indeed. Sorry for mentioning the Laluai Bridge as I understand the story behind what you and your brother arguing over....very sad indeed. Thanks Marlene.
Posted by: Rolland | 04 September 2015 at 08:52 PM
Thank you so much friends for your thoughts in comments.
Posted by: Marlene Dee Potoura | 04 September 2015 at 10:53 AM
Forgiveness is very easy to say than to actually do it. It takes courage and power within to do it.
But I have also learned the hard way that true forgiveness sets one free.
Not many people are upfront and honest, as you are here in telling your story.
I think I can connect with your story somehow too!
Posted by: John Kaupa Kamasua | 02 September 2015 at 07:19 PM
Truth. Winner.
Posted by: Michael Dom | 02 September 2015 at 11:28 AM
A well learned lesson of life.
Posted by: `Robin Lillicrapp | 02 September 2015 at 07:21 AM
Marlene - this is one of the most beautiful and poignant writings I have read in a long time. Bless you.
People, there is true greatness here.
Posted by: Peter Kranz | 02 September 2015 at 05:26 AM