CAROLINE EVARI

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

The change in humanity
The filth in bureaucracy
Stolen beauty
And captive wealth
Floats in the cloud of corruption

Deteriorated infrastructure
Shortage supplies
Infesting inflation
And accelerating city crimes
Floats in the cloud of corruption

Cries of injustice
Deprived inheritance
Prolonged solutions
And impediment in balance
Floats in the cloud of corruption

EMILY BINA

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

I travel from my school to the University three times a week.  I have to get on three buses: from Kila Kila to Manu; from Manu to Gordons; and from Gordons to University. At each bus stop pickpocketing is always a problem as commuters get into the buses.  When children are out from school in the afternoons it is worse.

You pick on the weak and the flustered
You pick on the old and the unwary
You pick on the dimdims, the dumdums
You pick at Koki, you pick at Gordons

You pick mobile phones and wallets
You pick two kina and school books
You pick the students and the workers
You pick at the major minor bus stop

BOMAI D WITNE

An entry in The Crocodile prize
PNG Chamber of Mines & Petroleum
Award for Essays & Journalism

PAPUA New Guinea’s democracy has been branded as ‘failed by some political commentators

The notion of democracy and the extent to which it is practiced in particular jurisdictions can be measured in a number of ways, including by its transparency and accountability.

"Government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the Earth,” as Abraham Lincoln saw it.

Yet in a dominant parochial political-cultural society such as PNG, it is blurry for people to measure the transparency of their political representatives.

JIMMY DREKORE

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Buk bilong Pikinini Children’s Literature Award

You talk
I talk
You walk
I walk
You stalk
I stalk
On the block
Set the clock
Pick a chock
And let’s rock to the croc

CAROLINE EVARI

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
People’s Award for Short Stories

AS soon as I hung up the telephone, I put on my tee-shirt and dashed from my room as fast as I could.

“Trevor is that you!” Veronica screamed from the laundry.

I had no time to respond to her or explain to her what had just occurred. I could feel my heart pounding hard against my chest and raced as quickly as I could, not even paying attention to the vase I had knocked over as I hurried through the front door and onto the street leading to the main road.

Numbness was torturing my muscles as I continued to run. I closed out the honking of cars and the waving hands as I raced across every street without caution.

DARREN A TALYAGA

An entry in The Crocodile prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

As much as we want to look ahead into the future
We have to look back into our country’s past
And the past is not that far now
At least not now

When Father passes away one day,
That day will create a barrier
And from thence
The coming days will be the future
The days when he was here, will be the old past

LEONARD FONG ROKA

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Buk bilong Pikinini
Award for Writing for Children

‘MY beautiful granddaughter Toronani is returning to her papa’s land of Kupe,’ Toboinu danced around the little child. ‘She will leave me crying in Kokore and go away over the great mountains of Kaupara.’

‘Grandma, but why would you be crying,’ the toddler prattled as her grandmother lifted her up.

‘I will be crying because you are leaving me and travelling away.’

‘Sorry grandma.’ Toronani wrapped her little hands around her grandma’s neck.

Toboinu carried her grandchild around her iio garden as she inspected her varieties of iio. They went round till Toronani screamed in pain.

LEONIE BAPTISTE

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

No one knows
They will never know

I sometimes wonder
About the promises, I ponder

It’s been a long while
Since his last smile

It’s been a while
Since my last smile

JIMMY DREKORE

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Buk bilong Pikinini Children’s Literature Award

Climb those mountains you’ll be captains
Hang in there you’ll get there
In rain and pain comes gain
Live simple you won’t be cripple
Drive with heart you’ll draw beautiful art
Reach and you’ll be rich
Endure and you’ll lure
Nothing is hard – my child

MICHAEL DOM

Do you not know, I love you so
Each day dear heart, this feeling grows
Each time we part, you take my heart
Tell me, my sweet, what skill, what art,
With grace, I pray, suffice to show
These thoughts emanate from your glow,
These words resonate, your echo,
These lines encapsulate my heart,
        Do you not know?

LEONARD FONG ROKA

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
PNG Chamber of Mines & Petroleum
Award for Essays & Journalism

THE name ‘Bougainville’ is not traditional Bougainvillean terminology but over the years of colonisation, the various peoples of the island grew accustomed to its usage.

And, as noted in the 1973 book, Bougainville: A Personal History, by Douglas Oliver, “the term ‘Bougainvillian’ will be used to refer to the indigenes of Bougainville and Buka as a whole, that is, to those who regard these islands as their ethnic homeland.”

Frankly this was an ignorant understanding of British rule. The British influence over Bougainville was profound: the Anglo-German Declaration of 1886 divided the Solomon Islands into two parts and the Anglo-German Convention of 1899 allowed Germany the right to rule over Bougainville and Buka Island.

GARY JUFFA

IN Papua New Guinea, death is no stranger, just the gritty reality every child faces growing up in a hard and unforgiving country.

It is ever present in every society pervading through villages, settlements and urban centres. The ultimate thief, it steals children from parents and parents from children, siblings from each other.

My childhood was by no means unique and I experienced my fair share of death as I grew up in Kokoda, Oro Province.

I cannot recall how many funerals I attended. The first was with my grandfather. I held his hand and we walked to a settlement behind our cocoa block in Kokoda.

I must have been about four and had no idea it was a funeral. I was humming and skipping at his side, as I usually did whenever we went on walks. Life was one big adventure.

CAROLINE EVARI

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

Inspired by homelessness. While some of us have everything we need in life, someone out there is suffering. So learn to be content and appreciate what you have.

The lonely heart sits in the silence and whispers into the thing air
A message only his heart carry’s
A message of one heart but with many voices
He looks to see if there’s anyone watching him
But all he sees is darkness, grief, pain and emptiness
His muscles shiver as his mind is bombarded with voices
Fear begins to take hold of his strength

BONIFACE TONY

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
People’s Award for Short Stories

“DIN! Din! Oh my god! Din, please talk to me! Talk to me please! Say something! Come on man, say something!”

“It’s no use sergeant, he is gone, we lost him,” came the comforting voice of the soldier standing at my side.

“No! We did not lose him,” I said, hoisting the body onto my shoulder and heading for the chopper.

That morning, although the sun was gold in colour with lots of promise ahead, I woke up with the fear that this day could be my last.

Lying in bed, I thought of mum, how she’d be standing at the airport craning her neck over the crowd to see was disembarking from the PNG Defence force Hercules.

A kick on my butt brought me back to sense.

“Wake up, sleepy head, you don’t have all this time to dream about your beauty queen.”

LEONARD FONG ROKA

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
PNG Chamber of Mines & Petroleum
Award for Essays & Journalism

COCOA farmer Patrick Erengona from Kaino village in the hinterland of Arawa, Bougainville, earned K680 for two bags of dry bean cocoa in the last week of May.

With the high cost of living in the province, this was not enough to sustain his family. There are problems in the Bougainville cocoa industry.

In a newspaper story some years ago, journalist Eric Tapakau wrote that, by the end of 2004, Bougainville should have 30 million cocoa trees and reported on a feasibility study for a proposed cocoa factory on the island.

To this day there is no evidence of the progress indicated by the media report. And the problem is the ownership of the cocoa industry of the island.

DAVID KASEI WAPAR

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

This poem was inspired by my parents who married at a time when our grandparents were slowly getting used to accepting that marrying outside their village was acceptable. But love did, and will, continue to break barriers. It did for my parents, Paul and Liley

You come from the blue mountains
I come from where the sharks nest
We come from two separate worlds

Yours filled with the sound of jungle
Mine, quiet except when Taleo rumbles
We come from two different worlds

MAC DANDAVA

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
People’s Award for Short Stories

IT rained that morning, not Bougainville’s usual downpour of cats and dogs but a light, incessant drizzle, the sort that can drive one over the edge.

The grey, almost dark appearance of the heavens added to the sense of sombre depression that hung heavy in the air, as though in sympathy with the events that were unfolding.

Green breakers pounded the beach keeping the banana boats shore-bound except for those ferrying people to the village.

JIMMY DREKORE

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

Simbu het tok: Go Long Ples
Wanim taim bai yu go long ples?

Bai yu wokabaut
Or go long staut?

Landcrusa
go long Goroka

DANIEL WAINGE

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
People’s Award for Short Stories

THE crowing of roosters blasted my ears as the house slowly lit up and the sound of children playing alerted me. I opened my eyes and breathed the fresh morning air, brushing off the sleepiness and getting out of the bed.

I peeped into the kitchen to greet mum as usual but there was no sign of her. She must be outside, I thought, and rushed through the door to join the fun. I liked the morning because it was the best time to play with the other village children.

After exhausting all my energy, I felt hungry and walked slowly back to the house.

JIMMY DREKORE

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Buk bilong Pikinini Children’s Literature Award

Eastern highlands
Boasts coffee plantations

Western highlands
Boasts tea plantations

Southern highlands
Boasts oil explorations

Enga Province
Boasts Porgera gold mine

LEONARD FONG ROKA

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Buk bilong Pikinini Children’s Literature Award

DAY after day my ungko (mother) told me to avoid the Katoo falls for the river current was too strong and would harm or kill me.

But day after day I admired my big brother and sisters enjoying the Bovong River’s strong currents that flow beneath our home through a secured rock ditch full with rock holes that are full with water and falls that were not so steep.

I loved the river and the kids and so needed a single step to touch the river.

ISHMAEL PALIPAL

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Buk bilong Pikinini Children’s Literature Award

IN a village along the coast of a northern Solomon island lived Koteu, an orphan boy who was looked upon by the villagers as an outcast.

The boy was orphaned when he was just five years old, his parents killed by the sorcery of some of the village elders who grew jealous of their work ethic, wealth and happiness.

After his parents’ death their killers shared the wealth and belongings of the family among themselves and left Koteu to work as a slave to help and feed the old people of the village.

“Koteu! You have to hurry to fetch the water, you have firewood to collect for Kua’s grandparents and don’t forget that old Dasieton has also requested you to go and see her,” screamed the wicked nangkaii (witch),the wife of the chief, who was so cruel and wanted to see Koteu punished with unrelenting work.

The boy quickly fetched water for the house of the chief and collected fire woods for Kua’s grandparents and then went off to see Dasieton. Dasieton, a wise old witch, was good friend to Koteu’s parents and she always supported and encouraged Koteu never to give up doing his duties, because one fine day fate would take its course and everything would go back the way it should be.

MICHAEL DOM

Marking Black Friday – apparently we won’t see another full moon on Friday 13^th until 2049 – about the same time Papua New Guinea starts reviewing the outcomes of Vision 2050

In darkened hours, all through the night,
In restless sleep, I will alight.
When limbs are weakened, warm and ripe,
Softly you fall, at my sure swipe.
I ply my trade by pale moonlight,

Upon the edges of your sight,
Unheard, your screams, my muted might!
Blind, deaf and dumb, you dare not gripe,
In darkened hours.

But should you dare, put up a fight,
Your fists fall empty at my flight.
You cannot catch my spiteful pipe,
Nor fathom why you ate my tripe!
Your misery is my delight,
In darkened hours.

JIMMY DREKORE

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

You used to talk to me without fear
You used to share with me the same beer
You used to eat with me when I was near
I thought you were a friend to me
But I know now

I’m losing hair you never came close
I’m losing weight you held your nose
I thought you would never shy away
I thought you would never run away
But I know now

LEONIE BAPTISTE

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

She shuts her eyes and sobs
Waiting in anticipation
When will it stop!

The bombing, the shooting, the dying
He steps up, says he’s a man
He grabs a gun and helps

BOMAI D WITNE

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
PNG Chamber of Mines & Petroleum
Award for Essays & Journalism

ALL human societies have a fair share of social ills that they create and attempt to address.  Among them is domestic violence.

There are different explanations for domestic violence. In Papua New Guinea, wife bashing, rape, incest and child abuse in homes are among the emerging social ills facing society.

A few cases of domestic violence reach the mainstream media and are discussed publicly with condemnation accorded where it is due. However, there are many unrecorded cases of domestic violence in PNG.

CAROLINE EVARI

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

A poem inspired by violence against woman and the reason
why most women put up with it – because of their children

I smile even when I’m hurt
I laugh even when I cry

I joke even when my heart‘s broken
I wake up even when I feel I shouldn’t

I walk even when I should hide
I dance even when I should fall

SIONE FA’AFASIMENI ATAHU

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

This poem was written to create awareness of the effects of climate change and the impact it has on my people. I believe the Crocodile Prize has created the perfect opportunity for me to do this.

Nestled somewhere in the Pacific,
Lies an idyllic coral atoll, round like a ring
With sandy beaches as white as snow
And clear-crystal water as clear as glass
Coconut palms sway gracefully
To the rhythm of the wind
While above,
The birds soar freely

LEONARD FONG ROKA

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
PNG Chamber of Mines & Petroleum
Award for Essays & Journalism

IT was in May, when travelling to Port Moresby for the Lowy Institute’s PNG Young Voices conference, that a Bougainvillean academic told me something startling.

“President Momis,” he said, “should retire from politics if he loves Bougainville.”

His words, significant in their own right, also took me back to my homeland, the Panguna District, and all its nasty and irrelevant politics.

Bougainvilleans should appreciate us, the stubborn Panguna people, for our contribution to rebelling against the problems of exploitation, indoctrination and genocide landed on us by the colonial administrations of the Germans, reinforced by the Australians and inherited by Papua New Guinea in 1975.

JIMMY DREKORE

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

My heart's desire
is on fire
like a live wire

Craving to go out
look out
and find their where about

They need me
not this industry
sorry honey

ISHMAEL PALIPAL

An entry in The Crocodile prize
PNG Chamber of Mines & Petroleum
Award for Essays & Journalism

RIVO village is about a 20 minute bus ride from Madang town. It is populated by about 3,000 people and our Community Development & Practice course at Divine Word University required us to visit Rivo to find out what the people really valued most in their lives.

In seeking answers to this question, we interviewed people in about 50-60 houses and very quickly we discovered that researchers, interviewers, students and government officials have been going there for years but nothing has been done.

“We are tired of answering questions from interviewers because we tell them the same things yet we wait and wait but nothing has been changed or done,” said one young mother.

IMELDA GRIFFIN

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

My eyes refuse to sleep

But when I close my eyes

In my mind’s eye I see my mother

I am combing her hair and she is telling me a story

Of a daughter, born not of her womb but from her heart

I feel the tears weighing down my eyelids

But how do I dry them, when it is my heart that weeps?

DAVID KASEI WAPAR

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
PNG Chamber of Mines & Petroleum
Award for Essays & Journalism

I HAVE recently returned from a month’s wonderful and stress-free break during which I spent a week with mom, dad and relatives at Tarawai Island.

It was a relief breathing the fresh ocean breeze free of exhaust fumes and other alien pollutants. Nevertheless, things were not as they were years ago.

Like many other island and coastal people, Tarawai islanders have a strong connection with the sea, the source of their livelihood for eons. Not to mention the sea as their only mode of transport and trade to the shores of Dagua and the far-away east-coast of Aitape.

Recently people have come to realise that fish numbers are declining and that there are no seagulls hovering over tuna hotspots.

Tarawai Island councillor Bonny Waihing told me that continuous close observation showed that these were the outcomes of inappropriate fishing methods by a tuna fishing company in the provincial capital, Wewak.

DEBES AKA

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

Future untold
In unity we strive. Despite our
Multi-cultural background, heritages, religions
Just for one goal, one purpose
To fly the flag higher.

Tireless days we encounter
Restless nights we face
Writing that never seems to end
We are the real strugglers
To fly the flag higher.

LEONARD FONG ROKA

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
PNG Chamber of Mines & Petroleum
Award for Essays & Journalism

UNDER the 10-year Australian-backed Papua New Guinea blockade of Bougainville - when basic goods like tinned fish, soap, salt and much more were not seen for years - creativity was still at work.

In the early days of the blockade, a few Bougainvilleans went to the Solomons provincial capital of Choiseul Province, brought goods across and sold them to the people especially around Kieta.

But as the crisis, and the blockade, intensified in mid-1992, Bougainvilleans were forced to innovate and improvise. The coastal people could add a small amount of sea water to their cooking pots.

The inland people went to collect the traditional salty plants buraang and mengteerung which our ancestors stored and applied small amounts to their food.

But when PNG forces landed in the coastal areas around Kieta – in Loloho, Arawa, Kieta and Aropa - sea water was inaccessible so Bougainvilleans had to innovate.

NOGLAI KIN

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

Wahgi coiling itself gently in tune
with the shape of the land
In search of beautiful Kikori.

Picky dribble…agile…able…
Longing…trending…wending…
Down to pretty Kikori

BOMAI D WITNE

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
PNG Chamber of Mines & Petroleum
Award for Essays & Journalism

THE notion of globalisation dictates that nations and peoples in today’s world are increasingly interdependent and must step up to learn, understand and appreciate each other’s cultural differences and together map ways forward.

With government and institutional support, such interaction can happen at all levels of society.  Universities around the world play a significant role in ensuring people-to-people interaction through scholarly in research and the dissemination of research information.

The Centre for Melanesian Studies and other research centres at the University of Goroka attract researchers from all over the world, who come to research or present papers at conferences hosted by the university.

BERNARD YEGIORA

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
PNG Chamber of Mines & Petroleum
Award for Essays & Journalism

IT is mind boggling to think about the future implications of the current agreement between Australia and Papua New Guinea to resettle refugees in the ‘land of the unexpected’.

The agreement may both transform this nation and further consolidate its diplomatic ties with its former coloniser.

However educated Papua New Guineans are asking some tough questions. Why are we helping Australia? Do we have a choice in deciding against Australia using us for its own benefit? Is the Manus Island issue a breach of PNG’s sovereignty?

So many unanswered questions but the intricacies of the deal are classified. Officials from foreign affairs, immigration and citizenship services are not at liberty to disclose information on what is happening on Manus nor about the future of the asylum seekers.

MICHAEL DOM

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

Tok Pisin tanka 1

Solwara meri
Mi stap longwe na tingim
Emi swit tumas
Yu kukim pis long nambis
Na karim i kam long mi

Salt-water woman
I am far off and recall
It is too sweet
You cook fish on the beach
And bring it here to me

DAVID KASEI WAPAR

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

I should have listened to mom
I should have taken her word seriously
I should have known what awaited me in that short journey

I guess I shouldn’t blame him for all that happened
I think we both agreed without considering the consequences
I hope he doesn’t desert me now that I carry his seed

GETRUDE BAKAIE

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
People’s Award for Short Stories

UP in the high ranges of Mt Wilhelm lived beautiful Weywey, full of elegance and taste. Wherever she walked, the people had a positive comment on their lips.

When Weywey was only an infant, her mother had died of heart failure. Her loving and protective father raised her under strict rules which Weywey observed.

Her obedience earned her the admiration of the whole village as Weywey kept to her daily chores. After school she brought the pigs back to their pen, fed them and prepared the family meal. This was her life.

One day as Weywey was preparing for school, her dad called her over. He hugged her and said, “Weywey, you are a big girl now. A lot of boys in the village will be keeping an eye out for you. Be careful and choose wisely. Don’t be lured by them.”

PAUL WAUGLA WII

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
PNG Chamber of Mines & Petroleum
Award for Essays & Journalism

DOCTORS tell us that we must stay safe from HIV AIDS at all costs while donor agencies in partnership with the government of PNG spend millions of dollars every year trying to bring the same message to the people.

HIV AIDS - a disease that does not have any cure at the moment – is, as we all know, spread mainly through sexual contact with someone who has the virus.

When it comes to safeguarding your own life, you don’t have to be told all the time by a doctor –or anyone else for that matter- what you must do to avoid this scourge. The only foolproof way is this: do not sleep around. Abstinence.

ALFRED KAWO

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
PNG Chamber of Mines & Petroleum
Award for Essays & Journalism

THAT modern 21^st century youth in Papua New Guinea has adopted a chaotic lifestyle is evidenced by a current trend of wayward behaviour.

The bulk of our younger generation is being swept away by a tide of morally corrupt behaviour which has become deeply embedded and which cannot be easily broken.

The threatening effects posed by this demoralised generation is of undeniable concern for the welfare of this young nation.

There are various contributing factors that can be identified as underlying causes.

Broken homes create a morally depressing situation in the lives of the children. As a result, these children grow up without the ability to value and recognise their self worth. They tend to direct their sense of identity outside themselves.

BERNARD YEGIORA

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
PNG Chamber of Mines & Petroleum
Award for Essays & Journalism

PAPUA New Guinea’s squatter settlements are a breeding ground for thugs and prostitutes.

A commonly held presumption, but is it true? Are all settlements dangerous? Are places like Gav Stoa, Morauta and 2 Mile Hill full of rapist, murders, burglars and con artists? Should the government bulldoze them because they are hazardous to modernisation?

Throughout PNG, people paint a negative portrait of squatter settlements. But to prove whether or not they are what many believe one has to witness them firsthand to formulate an honest judgment.

LEONARD FONG ROKA

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
PNG Chamber of Mines & Petroleum
Award for Essays & Journalism

IN the 2009 film, The Reeds Festival, the late Bougainvillean actor and advocate of Bougainville cultures, William Takaku, stated, “The old leaves must fall to allow the young leaves to grow leaving their wisdom of the trunk to the young leaves to carry on the culture of the tree.”

Sadly, on the political level, the old leaves are still there creating chaos and instability for the young leaves of Bougainville.

The Bougainville crisis since 1988 and the peace process since 1997 created shifts in the power status of individuals across the island.

There are pre-crisis people that the crisis stripped of power and there are others the crisis catapulted to a high status they had never seen before.

Now normalcy is beginning to prevail in Bougainville, the latter seem engulfed by fear of losing power.

JIMMY DREKORE

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

Their eyes zeroing on the question like kamikaze bombers
Aligning the target with precision only to stirring up the hive of curiosity
Scanning each equation and questioning their reasoning powers
Some set sail in search of what the answer would be

JIMMY DREKORE

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Prize for Poetry

If you get butterflies when she’s next to you,
ask her where the apple is?

If she says it’s with Adam
She wants you beside her

If she says it’s with Newton
She is attracted to you

If she says it’s in your eyes
She wants to marry you

DAVID KASEI WAPAR

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry

Wild and free as any aquatic life can be
Glistening under the crystal blue waters of the Pacific
Your skin slivery smooth and shiny

From time immemorial, the ocean was your home
Rightfully yours and the only place you freely roam
There you swim graciously snapping at the plankton

JOSEPH AMBANE JOHN

An entry in The Crocodile Prize
People’s Award for Short Stories

IT all happened on the evening of 9 November 2007 at the remote village of Bombir in the Kerowagi District of Simbu Province.

Around four on a fine Friday afternoon, I packed some food for my mother who was teaching at Nokar Primary School, an out-of-the-way school located right at the foot of the cloud covered mountain range that separates Kerowagi from Gembogl.

I left the family house 500 meters from Okuk Highland near the main Mingende market and started walking up the mountain – a journey that would take six hours.

I kept walking without rest towards the first range as the sun rolled down behind the mountains. I felt sweat rolling down my back and the hot air from my lungs forced its way through my mouth and nose but the cold evening breeze kept pushing me forward.

GARY JUFFA MP

IN 2012, the people of Papua New Guinea again took themselves to the polls to elect their leaders in a so-called democratic election.

Throughout the length and breadth of Papua New Guinea in 111 electorates the adult members of its seven million people chose many men and some women to represent their views, hopes and aspirations

They chose representatives to protect and promote their interests and ultimately the interests of Papua New Guinea through the nation’s highest decision making institution, the National Parliament.

This was the ninth national election since the independence of PNG from Australia on 16 September 1976.