Written with sincerity and a storyteller’s heart, this semi-autobiographical novel offers both an intimate portrait of a mother-son relationship and a broader commentary on the clash between traditional culture and modern life in Papua New Guinea.

As PNG celebrates its 50th year of independence in 2025, I recall this book as one of my prized collection during high school days in the 1990s and decided to revisit its pages for this review.

Set against the backdrop of PNG’s pre-independence era, the book beautifully captures struggles of identity, education and belonging.

Kilage’s reflections are not just his own—they echo the experience of an entire generation of Papua New Guineans navigating the tension between village life and the pressures of Western education, religion and governance.

The book is especially notable because it emerges from a time when very little Indigenous writing was available in print.

Kilage’s decision to tell his story in English—yet with a spirit rooted in Simbu tradition—makes this a powerful act of cultural translation and preservation.

Simbu culture is known for its strong oral traditions, deep respect for ancestors and communal life, all of which are felt through the way Kilage introduces his upbringing.

His writing is simple but powerful, allowing the emotional core of the story—his bond with his mother, lessons of humility, pain of separation and the hope of education—to shine through.

The book’s main themes cover:

Cultural identity: The tension between tradition and change is ever-present

Education: Seen both as a blessing and a burden

Family and maternal love: His mother’s unwavering belief in him shapes his moral and spiritual foundation

Colonial influence: Subtly woven throughout the story as both a disruptor and a catalyst. The time of the kiap, the administrative officers, often seen as symbols of colonial authority in PNG villages.

The recurring reference to being called ‘Yaltep,’ his traditional name, anchors the narrative in Simbu culture—reminding the reader that, despite his outward transformation through education and social mobility, his roots remain strong.

Ignatius Kilage became PNG’s fourth Governor-General, making him one of the few national leaders to have both political and literary legacies.

His book remains a foundational text in PNG literature—taught in schools and studied by scholars interested in Indigenous literature, post-colonial identity and Pacific history.

It stands as a testament to the power of storytelling in shaping national consciousness.

At a time when written accounts of indigenous experience were rare, My Mother Calls Me Yaltep gave voice to the voiceless—and continues to inspire future generations of Papua New Guinean writers.

This quiet yet profound narrative offers both historical insight and emotional resonance. At just over 100 pages (they vary with editions), it is a compact but powerful read.

It’s perfect for students, researchers and anyone interested in PNG’s cultural journey and Indigenous storytelling.

The opening chapter introduces readers to the village setting in Simbu Province, where Kilage grew up. It is a serene traditional environment where community life is deeply rooted in cultural norms and kinship ties.

Kilage reflects on his earliest memories—particularly how his mother called him Yaltep, the name not just a form of identification but a bearer of cultural and emotional understanding connecting him to his clan, his ancestry, and his mother's love.

“My mother never called me Ignatius,” he writes. “She called me Yaltep. That was the name she gave me, not the missionaries.”

This line shows the emotional and cultural power of names in PNG societies. Yaltep becomes a symbol of uncolonised identity, contrasting with the Christian name Ignatius he was given by the Church.

“She was the one who knew me, not the priest, not the teacher, not the kiap.”

In the second chapter, it is seen clearly that his mother is Kilage’s guide, protector and primary educator in the early years—representative of the many PNG mothers who preserve tradition while navigating change.

“Before I could write my name, I knew how to plant kaukau, how to fetch firewood, how to listen.”

Education in the village is hands-on and rooted in practical knowledge. This contrasts with Western schooling, which the young narrator will later experience.

Peter S Kinjap is the author of Bitcoin Dream: Hope, Hype and Chaos written for students and policymakers in PNG. Email [email protected]