Thoughts of a grandmother
Gender-based violence: hurting the bottom line for PNG business

What I was told


An entry in the 2015 Rivers Award
for Writing on Peace & Harmony

We are the Sepiks, Papuans, Highlanders
We are the Gulf, Morobeans, Islanders
Rich people, rich culture
Blessings and curses

Does he who does not act like me
Not deserve my empathy?
Or do I leave the best of me
For those moulded the same?

Pikinini holim stron tumbuna pasin blo u
Harem tok bilong ol lapun
Forgetting the ways of the old

Is the same as losing your soul

In his milky eyes I saw the truth
Through the veil of my youth
That we embrace the ways of the old
Because we fear what we do not know

Different tribes different tongues
The garamut or the kundu drum
We won’t have peace and harmony
Until I know you and you know me

The thing that scares us the most
The thing different from what we hold close
Is what we must overcome
If we are to truly become one.


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Daniel Ipan Kumbon

I like it when I see a Papuan, a Morobean or a Kerema wearing a highlands cap like my own. This is the feeling I get when I read this nationalistic poem Pochon.

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