My Brother; My Pride!

Have I preserved anything for better, or do I have to now?

While this thoughtful mind ponders through high and low, sketching out the momentous adventures of this journey, heavy splashes of gladness fills my eyes. Let me take a look at it; isn’t that colorful – the photo! I see a story painted with varieties of incredible colorants - resentment, frustrations, and headaches, yet together with determination for success.

Getting sprinkled with chilly fogs of gloomy mornings every day wasn’t so easy. It’s hurting. Living to be faced with another set of puzzles every year beginning – having an unsettle mind thinking of who would settle my fees for the next study year? It always has been an ongoing trauma.

We couldn't really have a person to be blamed for this. Being born of poor parents wasn’t ours to decide, but it made most things difficult. There’s nothing from behind we could have had our grips on. Thinking of how it would be, or who would complete the next set of puzzles had always been a nightmare to our parents. It was just a shattered dream yesterday, clouded with ever raging doubts and wonders. Seeing our poor parents at roadsides with price tags pasted to their chests of a pig put up for sale had been normal all year around. To many people it had been a shameful act and a laughing stalk, but to our parents it was our future they held tight to with tears and prayers in their hearts. This, I just can't  imagine how wide it is; what my words can't express. I can’t easily fit into in a narrow space within at that extent of even how wounding it was for our parents to hold on. To have gone through all the devastating torments just for our well-beings had been our poor parents’ to endure.

Today however, it's been a new down; the colorful furthers strikes an onset of a fresh kick. Having faced the challenges with determination amidst all skepticism has been paid at least to some extent. I can now see how happy my two uncles are on this photo. Anyone could easily tell of that within their hearts. If there were some heroes I would put to my list of the earth's special collections, our parents would have had secured the best place in the whole world. Thanks to our poor parents who never gave up on us, who never stopped crying and prayed. Thanks also to those who helped us walk this journey and thanks to the Lord Almighty God who knew this would be the day I write something better for my brother - my pride. 

MAJOR CONGRATULATIONS TO MY BROTHER, MY CHAMP! YOU HAVE PROVED THE ONES WHO SAID YOU COULDN'T MAKE IT WRONG; YOU PROVED THE WORLD WRONG ABOUT ITS LIES WHEN IT SAID YOU COULDN'T BE ANY BETTER. Yet the world out there remains so wide; million more miles are yet to be covered. It's better now I wish you the best of luck on your future endeavors; well this, I say with so much CONFIDENCE now that you will make it. 

May the Good Lord Continue to lead you. My brother and my pride, GOD BLESS!

Passion & Commitment of the blogger - YokAlip Kyak. 

PLESS MAN: Did that Really Make Me a Pless MAN?

What is PLESS MAN?

Most Papua New Gunieans use the expression ‘Pless Man' - it's a PNG-Pidgin phrase used too often to express our feelings, especially when we are sympathetic of or to criticize another person of his/her conditions or appearance. Literally, it means a ‘Village Man,' but it is completely different how we use it and what we mean most often. Figuratively I would say it means primitive/illiterate/stupid/foolish/etc. The situation at which or that prompts the expression to be used determines its connotation. I had an encounter at Mt. Hagen Airport a few months ago in which the phrase was used on me by some beautiful ladies - I was called a Pless Man.  

I don't know if I was really that rushing. Something terrible happened. I had about thirty (30) minutes to board for my flight to return to POM after attending my dad's funeral. It was in July, 2019 at Mt. Hagen Ples Balus. 

I walked passed these girls after I've checked in. They were three of them and each had what you call the ‘beauty' - they looked amazing. They seemed very busy telling stories too. One of them was even affixed to her phone. None of them cared I was even there, though they saw me. 

Well, I didn't want to know what they were doing too. I was also busy on my way to the boarding room. As I walked down that fine corridor, cramped with silken glass walls reflecting my image all through, it was hectic. I had my both jacket pockets jam-packed with fresh mandarins from the nearby Airport Market. On either sides of my hands were bundles of fresh peanuts, with my boarding pass struggling through to have a space within.  

Trying to manage rubbish was a burden, but that beauty accompanied by murmuring on the lips of those three beautiful ladies, with their eyes focused on me seemed a greatest burden. I couldn't bear it; I was nervous. I'm good at being nervous too, but this was worse than ever. I wished for an isolated alleyway to the boarding room, but to no avail. 

There was none. Ahead of them were two fine gentlemen. They were in full uniforms and be honest they looked professionals than the ladies. Their appearances conveyed a welcoming impression. They were the guys as I thought. I aimed to see the gentlemen to have my access to the boarding room. Those ladies, I never even cared; I mean why would I when they seemed busy on other stuffs and looked ordinary?

After I have walked passed a few meters ahead of the girls, one of them shouted. I didn't know whom she was referring to. I just turned around to see who else was there behind or beside me. “You! I'm referring to you” she yelled in English while her hand and the eyes of her other friends gripped on me. I gently took steps back towards the girls, yet looking confused. “First Time Oh (first timer?),” murmured the one that looked a bit taller than the others. 

Actually it was a good question she asked. I mean any one could have asked that question if it seemed I may have skipped something. However, how she sounded accompanied by her graceless looks felt utterly different. I was just about two meters away from them, yet I had nothing to say. I took further steps in towards the ladies.  As I was nearing, the third lady; she looked prettier than the other two, was even closer to my age; she added saying “Pless Man Nabaut!” then she looked away gently with murmuring on her lips. 

“Oh really?! What did I do to deserve that? Was she talking about me? Or was there anyone else beside me?” I stood defenselessly and confused before the ladies. I could feel me knees trembling too and sweat oozing out of my body everywhere. She sounded so rude and it penetrated my ears so piercingly. It truly nailed me down! That yummy flavor of fresh mandarins faded the same instant turned into a hot sour. As my intuition reminded later, I was attacked in my confusion.

“You gat ticket blo you stap ah? (you got your ticket with you?)” the one first yelled asked.  I just nodded aimlessly to mean yes, but I was still blank. She snatched the ticket off my hand and glanced through it. Now, this had no single impact on me as I was already confused. “What's your scheduled flight time?” she further asked. “04:45.” “Really?” she said with so much wonder. No wonder I said it was 04:45pm. Like I said I was already confused. My actual flight time was 02:45pm. Not 04:45pm. At 04:45PM I was supposed to arrive at Port Moresby Jackson's Airport. 

You know they were three, I was one. They had the support of the place, I had nothing. They seemed beautiful; I was just way below their feet. They talked with full confidence, well I was shaking. I mean truly I was shaking. I don't know if it was to their affirmations, I returned from home. I looked terrible. I had the real color of home on me displayed through my cloths, shoe, all full of dirt. They may have taken advantage over my shit looks; who knew? 

The one that called me ‘Pless Man', she was so annoying. She repeated it for the second time after she realized I called out a wrong flight time. I was really offended. Her words just crushed me completely“Pless Man! 04:45 is not your departure time. Lukluk na save lo ol samting na raun lo balus (Village Man, see and understand things properly and travel around in plane” was what she added. Oh man, she sounded so rude. 

I don't know how I even got my boarding pass back. I walked down the corridor thinking all through. “What did they mean by calling me Pless Man? I'm not a Pless Man! Or was it because I looked terrible?” I asked so many questions to myself. I was hurt, so brushed emotionally. 

“Hay stupid boy?” said someone who just showed up from nowhere. “Are you worried because of what those stupid ladies said? Turn around and say something! Return their words before you go!” continued the concealed person. He was so close to me too as it felt. I could hear his words very clearly, yet I couldn't see him. He just convincingly embedded that sharp voice into my mind. He kept reminding me. I really couldn't control him. 

“Who do you think you are? Are you really the one those girls said you are? Who is that Pless Man they  referred to? You're not a Pless Man. Turn back! Boy turn back and say something to the girls!” Wow, he was so rushing. He talked too fast. I could even feel his fast breaths on my chest. He wanted me to take that revenge. I don't know if this is the same other people experience? He just impeccably sounded someone in Sahara desert who rushing for a cup of water to quench his thirst. 

I had a sudden pause at the access strip. That continuous reminder of the rough voice made me, obviously to return and either punch one of the ladies or just say a rude word in return. I now decided to turn around and take my revenge. I was just ready. I knew what I would say. The words were right at the tip of my tongue. I was right at the verge of throwing myself thoughtlessly. 

Right through the eagerness for revenge however, I could hear another voice, a different voice all together. It was so low and soft unlike the previous one. That person asked me to look at/around myself instead of the ladies. “See how badly the words of the girls have deformed you. Can you identify one single part of you that has been deformed by the tirade of the ladies?” he asked me.

I looked around to see if I can identify one but to no avail. I just couldn't identify one. “See, you cannot identify one because simply it has done nothing to you. You have just been troubled because you didn't take their words appropriately” said the new voice. He wanted me to go ahead on to the boarding room and just go away without saying a single word. So I did and later realized it was a good thing I did. 

MORAL: The question asked earlier is; “Did that Really Make Me a Pless MAN?” Simply the answer is NO! Even if I'm a Pless Man already, it's not because those beautiful ladies said it. People use terms and phrases or even long sentences and paragraphs to express their feelings of anger, annoyance, and frustration, or when they want to hurt someone's feelings. But the unalterable fact therein is; you don't become who or what they say you are. It does not happen! You are who you make yourself become. Habitually people swear because they think it is smart or funny. Or sometimes they make fun of other people with tirade because it entertains them. Just don't be hooked up to it so quickly. There is a saying that goes; "the silent defeats the outburst." Keep quiet and be watchful. See what's happening around you, within your capacity and learn. The world is full of stuffs/happenings that will teach you great lessons. 

Thanks for your reading reader. MAY THE GOOD LORD BLESS!

Passion & Commitment of the blogger - Kolly ALANGE

A Life Lived that Proved the World Wrong about Its Lies.

I never thought someone would write a good story about me. It wasn't possible to imagine from where I was. Human perceptions were so thick. My mind was narrowed to believe who most people said I was. I thought I was unable and couldn't be any better, but it all was a lie. I know everyone has a story to tell; a story of some amazing or terrible stuffs happened that shaped their lives to be who they are today.

At least I have lived and with one part of my life, proved the world wrong when it said I couldn't be any better. This helped me to build an attitude that never agrees to accept when anyone tells me that I can't. Click on the link here to grab a piece of my story published by someone Daniel Kumbon:

 https://www.pngattitude.com/2018/05/i-didnt-know-my-dad-and-then-you-published-his-photograph.html 

During my graduation: photo taken after receiving my degree paper at UPNG.
....20/04/2018




Passion & Commitment of the blogger - YokAlip Kyak.

How Did I Know About Independence?

I published this piece on the 16th of September 2019, on Facebook to commemorate the very special day on which Papua New Guinea Got Independence from its colonizer - Australia. Today I decided to publish it again on my blog to have it kept in my blog archive. I know you have your own story of when and how you understood about the independence. Write your own story and be grateful that you're independent. God Bless the Reader, God Bless PNG. 

This smile is satirical somewhat yet agitating. It’s clumsy. My head hangs on an entirely embarrassed body. You don’t simply grasp how it touches when you look back at your silly moments, do you? This day reminds me of my past.

Did they know; did their parents tell them? How could those kids of my age talk about it? I was muddled. It’s gotten tensed. Artworks stood emblematic, the atmosphere there was utterly lively. Enthralling melodies jingled through the airwaves. Blues and gloom faded. The chanting whistles of encircling hilltops swiftly stretched across the eventful valleys.

It seemed everyone knew about the big man coming. Those brassy yet speckled sounds of tryouts kept beating. Poor village mothers couldn’t hold it any longer. It was the situation that prompted the unveiling. The exposer of covertly distinctive grass skirts and pinafore, face paints and birds’ feathers and traditional oil has all been warranted for. The customary cache stirred out of captivity to celebrate the big man. How could walls be resilient in the eve of revel? It wasn’t so possible.

I gathered my hearing to grab a trace of the big man. I tried if anyone could tell me who was coming. I looked for; or asked; even I strapped through to several throngs, yet to no avail. My curiosity grew tenser. I couldn’t rest until I’ve found who the big man was.

“Who is the big man coming tomorrow, Mom? People talking about him everywhere” I broke in on my mom’s assiduity. I assumed she would tell me. I’ve asked every other person whom I had my chances. I had no one else to ask further from here. Unfortunately however, even she was reluctant. She’s on a flurry in fact. It was obvious; my mom didn’t want to miss the Tug War (Rope Pulling) trials. “If I had let her gone I would miss my opportunity” as I thought. Mom was my sole chance to know who the big man was. I persisted, until finally Mom broke in, “it’s not who but it’s what!” “Did you know that my team’s going for a tug war tomorrow? It’s the Inipenend De.”

“Inipenend De? What is Inipenend De, Mom? Is it a big man, or a big vehicle or anything like a big plane? What’s the color of the Inpenend De? Where is the Inipenend De coming from?” Those inquisitive radiations of multifold questions appeared irresistible, of which made Mom a bit regretful for making mention of the Inipenend De.

She made references to Australia and Papua New Guinea of some things the two countries did in her enlightenment. I don’t know if she did it better. But, she tried without hesitation. My petite crown never stood a chance though. She never cared. And she added “in your other days and weeks and months, you toil and get busy in whatsoever your doings. But never forget that I told you this; 16^th September of every year is a day of celebration; it is the Inipenend De. Sit down, rest, celebrate and remember that I told this!”

 

She actually meant “Independence Day,” I understand that. I understand why how she did what she did now. I mean in her pronunciation of the Independence Day.  But what does it matter now? It’s the knowledge of what independence is. At least she tried, I understand that. 

So, it was my poor mom who explained what INDEPENDENCE is to me before the books did. THANK YOU SO MUCH MOM. THOUGH I MAYBE DEPENDENT ON MANY THINGS THAT I CAN'T PROVIDE FOR MYSELF, I KNOW THE MEANING OF INDEPENDENCE & GREATLY I FEEL THAT I’M INDEPENDENT. 

Let me be reminded forever of my poor mom and the Independence Day of this beautiful nation that I call 'my place - PNG' by the flying wings of its beautiful bird of paradise on that flag. MAY GOD BLESS PNG!

The Flag of Papua New Guinea (PNG) - Designed by Susan KARIKE (Adopted in 1st July 1971)

 Passion & Commitment of the blogger - YokAlip Kyak.

What God Has for His Children is the Best Beyond Comparison!

Does your plan ever change for reasons that you don't even know of?

Everyone strives fondly towards accomplishing whatever plans they have in life; doesn't matter big or small. I have my own plans too since childhood, but some worked out, never.  

Here is a story of one of my plans changed without my input that turned my life around. I pray for a better result of your time on this story. Please, enjoy your reading. 

Photo taken at my work station - 12th Feb, 2020

Having graduated with a better GPA  from the Premier University of the Pacific - the University of Papua New Guinea, I had an exquisite desire to join and or be part of a Graduate Development Programs (GDP), offered by any of the big organizations/companies in the country - PNG.

Just as I desired, I was named one of the final ten students who were selected from the School of Business & Public Policy (SBPP) - UPNG, to be taken through for a GDP called Langley by PNG Human Resource Institute (PNGHRI). Though the graduate program was for 2018, we were selected as early as in November, 2017.

I was so happy that I had a space secured already. This had me preoccupied. I asked my mother to have even a prayer warfare against any restrictions. This was my offer; my dream come through. The benefits enlightened to us completely weakened my interest for other GDPs and job opportunities. There was a great package awaiting at the end of our training with PNGHRI. We would be on demand after our training with PNGHRI as we were told; about three hundred employers would compete for us during our graduation. When such stories were told, who would have walked away from all that easily? Not Me! I just couldn't apply out to anywhere else. I felt so reluctant. My friends asked me to send in applications for other GDPs and even job vacancies that were on the market, but I just didn't want to. I had my space secured with PNGHRI already .

Unfortunately however, the program at PNGHRI delayed. As we were told the reasons were due to shortages of funding. I asked my mom to pray again for breakthroughs. We needed the fund in, the time has elapsed to March, 2018. I was really troubled, I wanted this so badly. Few days later my mom called and said she had an objecting dream about my case. I didn't want to hear that she had such dreams. Or, I wished she never had a dream at all. Her stories crumpled me so badly and at one point, I remember telling my mom that her dream was meaningless. I asked her to pray again, though she reminded me from time to time to look for other opportunities. She was confident, the GDP at HRI was not mine.

As I was tired of waiting, I sent applications out to few training colleges and institutions within Port Moresby, through which I got into my current position as an Assistant Business Lecturer at International Training Institute (ITI). My current job is my first job; the interview process I was taken in for was my first interview ever. I have never been in a teaching field, or any other job fields before.

Despite being employed at ITI, I still wanted to join a GDP. I even checked again at PNGHRI for whether the funding has gone in or not, however; the responses were all the same, even other GDPs that I applied for. This lecturing job never had a single compartment in my whole career plan. I would remind myself always that I was with ITI while waiting for a company to accept me on my application for a GDP program. For more than 12 months I've been sending out applications, of which some I got along through to their selection processes and have been dropped again. Nothing worked out for me. As time went by, my lecturing job became real each moment; slowly and slowly I realize the essence of lecturing; of that part which I help students to understand concepts, but the part that helps me broadly.

I gradually realized that it was more than just lecturing; more than even a Graduate Development Program. The part that I like about being a lecturer is that I'm being thought big time as I passionately serve to help students learn better.  Lecturing core courses particularly; Business Communication, Marketing Management and Entrepreneurship & Small Business Management and Principles of Management enhances my drive and energy to explore and acquire extensively new information. I planned to be trained one way but it twisted around and now I'm trained in an absolutely new, different way.

Just as I would have been in a GDP, I'm in the lecturing program. Research is becoming part of my daily life; analyzing information, facing challenges and providing the right remedy makes me so enthusiastic and serve more. One thing I have realized through this job is the importance of passion. I thought lecturing was just about explaining some words, lines, paragraphs and concepts in a text book, but there's more to it. When passion comes into play, touching the lives of people for better becomes priority.

I may be too young to teach, but having the passion to serve humanity drives my commitment to deliver the best I can.  I'm so thankful for how things twisted around. It definitely was for better and I do not regret now it happened.

Moral of the story: Do not complain when things go south. As I said, what God has for his children is the best beyond comparison. We don't have to ask a lot of 'why' questions. Sometimes, things get delayed  because we always want it happen in our ways. Wait upon the Lord, for where he leads you to is just the best place you could ever be.

If there is one job we should do, it is to check who is in the cockpit of that plane we boarded to. MAY GOD BLESS THOSE WHO ALLOW HIM TO CAPTAIN THEIR LIVES!

Thank you very much for reading, my blog visitor.

Author: Kolly ALANGE