I NEVER KNEW WHO I RESEMBLE UNTIL I MET A STRANGE WOMAN!

 

Photograph of myself - 2020

ONE OF THE OLDERST  QUESTIONS I EVER HAD WAS "WHO'S IMAGE DO I CARRY?"

I am one of those many out there who lived with only one parent. For me it was my mom. That life was very eventful; things hadn't been that easy. Stuffs happened. A countless stories to be told later.  

To a bit of an extent, I recall a few things that are yet so obscure. I remember sitting on my dad's laps spinning around the steering wheel of a blue MITSUBISHI L200. I enjoyed those beautiful things dad used to bring home from Port Moresby and other big places. I remember dad connecting electricity home, powered by generator and  lighting up wooden houses. We could have our plates full of food varieties every single meal. I saw a lot of people living with us; most of them worked for us actually. I thought they were my relatives. They would treat me like better than special. During those days, I used to call someone a "Papa." And with him in the house, the few moments together had always been without showers.  

The 'Papa' name sounded so much better than sweet. No other name could ever replace that. Sadly however; it was removed of me and my other siblings just a few years after. For me, it must have been only two or three. That name wasn't mine to be called again. Mom said I wouldn't. The reason was certain too; there wasn't the Papa around anymore. We saw him taking a clear path when he left. Not as too often he leaves to POM, or not as for few days he stays out and return. This time we all witnessed him leaving and forever.  

Sadly it feels like a set of events that go by within seconds in a movie. I don't remember many things happened or done then with dad. Sometimes I try to rally stories and events together to ponder on, but a huge cloud veils my memory every time I try. I am lost to picture dad and his face  in my mind forever. We had many photo albums though. Most of them contained dad's photographs when he'd been working in Wewak, Aiyura and some other places. But I have no clue who took them. I never had a photo of him ever since.

I and my other siblings learnt to accept that our dad was gone. Maybe I'll see his face someday in the after life - if that's how it is out there. We well adapted.  Nothing ever reminded me of that better and a very short life we once had with dad anymore. It slept on as if all that sunrise with dad had just been a momentary rainbow stretched out on an afternoon shower. 

Sometimes when thoughts round me up my heart craves to see at least a picture of dad. Or to resemble his looks with any of us - his sons. I had this questions ever since "who do I resemble, my mom or my dad?" No one ever told me - not even my mom until I met a stranger few years back.

The 7th of January, 2017 was a momentous day ever. The rising sun above gloomy clouds of eastern horizon gave off an enduring smile of a great intensity. Its unbending rays through holes within walls interrupted our embraces on pillow in the highland's cold. The morning Melidectes of Lumbipaka heights flopping on tree branches and leavers reminded us of the greater inspirations to be given forth in that day at Kakaliaka Junction.   

In this place I was known to only the family that housed us. Nobody I knew ever lives there. I expected to meet no one. I was a complete stranger in that locality that moment. There's a distant aunty who lives there though. On this day her involvement was impossible. There's no way she got involved in what transpired that filled in a lasting gap in my whole life. 

We got our gears sat and rallied them down to the venue we were suppose to speak. We made an announcement to speak the other day afternoon, so, it wasn't a surprise when we saw a huge crowd already gathering around that place. I could hear people mummering and whispering to each other pertaining to what we were about to deliver. They showed so much interest. In this circumstance, we couldn't let a moment pass by, or couldn't we keep the huge crowd in suspense. 

For this event the entire week, I was the chairperson. I had to speak before the others, after and towards the end of awareness. While delivering speech at Kakaliaka, my eyes caught up with an elderly woman, who I noticed could never  for once look away. She fixed her eyes so hard on me. Sometimes she could give up a nice simper on her face, tapping on another elderly woman sitting next to her. She really posed a great interest on my presentations. 

Right after we closed the awareness with a word of prayer that strange, uneasy lady was already by my side holding me tight right across my abdomen. "Mama, emb nabaen ikining lam onk (so you are really that my son ah)." This lady put me to a stance of endless questions. She didn't give me options so I could choose from. She gave me no clue. She claimed with an extensive confidence. How could a strange lady from nowhere just call me her son? My mom never told me that she had a sister who got married to that place. I never saw this lady before - never in my lifetime. I was at a no man's land. And yet a strange lady could call me her son; how was that even possible?

As an elderly mother she quickly figured I was lost in my thoughts. She knew I needed answers for why she called me her son. And thus, she asked me "son do you think it's that hard to tell whose son you're and where you're from?" I couldn't interrupt when a strange lady was closing in on me with something I never heard before. "Namb Kaipae an andak taeg onk. Embaen mamam Kaipae Leng mend arom lesam sigip daa? (english: I am Kaipae's wife. Does your mother ever tell you about Kaipae)?"

This name 'Kaipae' immediately reminded me of my dad. My mother tells me of him (Kaipae). He used to be my dad's business partner and in some ways very related. Kaipae is from the tribe of Sai from Murip and had been one of the few major business men in my entire district around 1980s. I have heard of his name from my mom and others. He was my dad's closest friend, a relative and a business partner too. But during those days, I was never born yet. When this elderly mother said she was Kaipae's wife I could feel a conviction so easily within  my heart. It felt as if the the woman and I have known each other for a long time. 

She told me my forehead, my nose, my ears, my simper and the way I presented myself in speech were all exactly like my dad's. She said my dad used to have those which made it very possible for her to identify me so easily. No wonder now she called me son with so much confidence. No wonder she held me tight. Yes, she knew me better by my looks. She knew whose son I was; she knew where I was from. She knew I was my father's son. On this date, right at 12 o'clock noon she made me realize that I resemble my father.   

My message to the people reading: 

You may be living with your dad now, or you lost him already, or you never had one in your life. It does NOT matter. You're NOT a cross-breed species. You came to earth through a father and no matter what you still resemble your father's image! Do NOT Ever ask a lot of questions. Shout out & have it claimed heartily "I WAS, I AM & I WILL ALWAYS BE MY FATHER'S SON!" 

He Said He Wanted to Do What He Does on a Bigger Scale

 The entire period of July to August, 2017, was messily fitful. A tensed sphere of dilemma gave rise to the surge of tempering electoral processes, illegal signing of writs, double declarations, luring out MPs of one political party to another and even hijacking some by force upon arrivals at the Jacksons Airport. It was the eve of government formation.

Hon. Dr. Tom Lino at the newly constructed Wabag to Maramuni Road site. 

The previous government, before 2017 National Election, went through a lot of hurly-burlies that conditioned people to have preexisting crave for a better leadership. Sadly however, our MPs never had guts to see that hunger in their people. They only used it as bate to lure votes. The people of PNG and the world watched with intense anxiety to see who the next Prime Minister was.

Fortunate for the opposition but sadly to be unsuccessful sooner, the team against the rise of previous regime had a total of 46 MPs at the Kokopo Camp. The number was expected to rise to give a good challenge in the Prime Minster election.  However, there were crooked MPs too who decamped to join the resurging governance. One thing was certain; those MPs who decamped have swiftly forgotten who voted them in just few days. Their desires were for money when people longed for a leadership. They thought of how much they will gain than how much their people would.

Three years ago the people of the Independent State of Papua New Guinea and the world watched the move of five courageous MPs to join Pangu Party for a coalition to form government. The fifth of the five was the youngest and as well new in politics. He was a professional Doctor who had to make an immense sacrifice leaving his exquisitely noble career behind. I can only imagine how tough it must have been for him to switch careers.

For sure as family, as patients and as people, we need our doctors to be in the hospital, attend to the sick and safe lives. Not at the parliament where they’ll be tainted with dirt of corruption. Seeing one of very brave and faithful doctors of PNG, Dr. Jeremiah Tom Lino leaving behind the hospital corridors for political anonymities ahead was a saddest move ever yet courageous. It must have not  really been easy for his family and friends though.

Hon. Dr. Tom Lino hails from the Tribe of Lanekep in Wabag District of Enga Province. As said earlier, he was a first timer and never knew much about politics back then. The 27^th of July, 2017 set a new course when he was declared the winner for his electorate with a total of 22,463 votes. Most interestingly then, he was an independent candidate unseating one of PNCs’ – Robert Sandan Ganim.

I can’t possibly comprehend what happens behind the scene at the course of government formation. Like most of us do, I can only guess bad things happen. From the common events however, I know this is the moment of milk and honey for most MPs – the moment of golden opportunities. Manna rains from the heavens of power hungry politicians. You don’t look for them. They look for you. They don’t set the price. You do. The MPs full of nothing, but only sands in their brains never dare to miss it. They simply name what they want and it comes to them all by itself.

As unquestionably as one could envisage, this moment never circumvented Hon. Dr. Tom Lino. Imagine how many times he may have received offers of government ministries, hard cash, and promises of countless million kina projects to his electorate and so and so? Being an independent MP before he joined Pangu must have not been very easy for him at this epoch. But, one thing was certain then and it’s clearer today. Dr. Tom Lino was on a guided course, never to be wavered by forces of any kind.    

Most of his people were happy that he was now the new MP for Wabag electorate. They had greater anticipations of what he would do. But, what they never knew was which team he was ever going to join. Some people suggested its better he joins the leading parties. Others suggested he join the senior Engan Politicians. Surprisingly however, his move to join the opposition seemed a bent. He went south when his colleagues headed north as it seemed. His people had questions of why he joined the opposition that only he could answer in times.       

During this high time, he lost one of his dear brothers. Hon. Dr. Tom Lino being a dear brother to the one passed on, managed to come home for funeral at Gerehu – Port Moresby. He shared his tears and sorrowful sentiments of losing his beloved brother with everyone who were there that evening. On this evening I had my opportunity listening to a very remarkable man with great professional history and an MP to be recorded in the history for his performances in his time.

To clear the air, he, by way of acknowledging as he was his peoples’ leader too, said “most of my people complain why I joined Pangu – the opposition? They complain that I should be with the Government; have a chair at the big table, be like others and feed from where everyone’s fed. I agree; I understand what my people want. But, what I can’t do is; I can’t go after money! Or neither can I allow money to run my life. I’m a first timer and when I’m beginning on this new career, I would like to stay a fee man.” He said this while with the opposition. Though many things were not known yet, his words at least well complemented his first action to join Pangu. A person with foresights may have captured the glimpse of his actions ahead with him as a fresh MP in his electorate.

Hon. Dr. Tom Lino with two water boys for the construction
workers.

On the contrary however; his words had me thinking, ‘what kind of man is he that does not like money; why did he contest for Wabag Open Seat; why didn’t he chose another career instead of politics if he had to switch careers; why being a politician?’ As simply as anyone could understand the reasons for people having questions as those I had, in PNG our politicians with their actions have had us accustomed to think politics is all about money. Or we think the MPs who have money are always those who are with the government. Poor people back in the electorates get fed with continuous lies of their MPs saying “we oppositions don’t receive much of our funds,” this is a crap!

Hon. Dr. Lino’s intension to join Pangu came to light via Loop PNG on the 24^th of August 2017. He unveiled that joining hands with credible leaders who believe in change, whose works are transparent and implement what they promise was for the best interest of his people of Wabag. He further gave his assurance that he would make his people and the people of PNG realize the opposition MPs can still deliver. This was a promise to set a new course – to change an attitude profoundly rooted to a lie.

It is absolutely heartwarming to know the stories of Hon. Dr. Tom Lino. He also tells his people through an interview that being a surgeon has never been easy. He has been the head surgeon for his province for seven (7) years. The nature of his work poses a huge challenge that devoured all his time. Despite all the slaps and slumps, he treats people on daily basis. He gets motivated to do his work more every time he sees one helped patient leaves the sick bed fully recovered. His aim had always been to make the world around him a healthier place for everyone to live. But as he tells “he couldn’t do that on a smaller scale." So he had to raise his hand for the Wabag electorate. It was with an intention to help people live happier and better lives after all. 

It’s been three years now since he got into the office. He has two more years to go before the next election. The question now is; has he delivered it yet? I mean his promise of making peoples’ life better. Has he actually taken a step towards making his people happy? I’m not from Wabag and I shouldn’t know much about Wabag, or, how much he has actually done. But I can write about him a story because I’m made able to by one action – an action that’s transparently clear.

Wabag district is unlike the other districts in Enga province. It has the capital of Enga (Wabag town) which houses all most all the key government facilities. In terms of development, Wabag district is by far ahead of other districts of Enga. However, there’s a part of the district that remains detached for ages. Engans know it better and it’s Maramuni.

Maramuni is about 28miles (45.1km) west of Wabag town. It’s located in the heart of tick forest between Enga and East Sepik. It has quite a good number of people, but sadly they live a primitive life. To reach Wabag town from maramuni is only by foot. There is no road link. It takes two to three days for the people of maramuni. There is an air strip in Maramuni where it caters for small planes. But sadly too, it can’t help much.  

A Maramuni Lady with Hon. Dr. Tom Lino at the road construction site.
The picture shows how people of Maramuni Travel the long walk.

Imagine how many people of Maramuni may have died of curable disease only because they never had access to basic health services? Those pregnant mothers who couldn’t make it through that three-to-four-day long walk? Maramuni people do vote when it comes to election in the hope of a service coming to their doorstep. I don’t certainly know when the place was realized and given its boundaries to be called Maramuni, but ever since, neither of any former MPs, nor even the provincial government dared to set foot on this place. Only missionaries fly in and out in small planes.  

The Honorable Minister for Fisheries and the Member for Wabag Dr. Jeremiah Tom Lino has now turned a boulder that’s been immovable for so long. He has turned a new leave by setting foot on a land no one has ever laid a mark before. 

Doctors certainly have one job and only one job. That is to bring cure to the sick and put a smile on their faces. Hon. Dr. Tom Lino said he wanted to bring cure to the people on a bigger scale and now it comes into reality. Building a grand highway linking Maramuni to Wabag Town is truly bringing cure not only to one person, but to the entire people of Maramuni, not only those living there today but to the generations to come.  

With this great work, the name “Dr. Tom Lino” is a monument now to be erected on a solid ground. Once he said ‘he would’ and now he has done it. And one day he will say “I’ve done it.” Even after he’s gone, people will say “he did it.” Seeing the people of Maramuni and Enga happily riding along the Lino Highway will forever be a joy in his heart and an internal pride for his family.

May the people of Enga, PNG and the world travel through Lino Highway to see the virgin beauty of  Maramuni in the years to come. May the MPs to come bring in the other needed services to the people of Maramuni through Lino Highway. May the engineers and road-workers bit their chests for their efforts contributed in constructing Lino Highway. May everyone who has contributed one way or another in this construction tell stories and share the joy and pride with Dr. Tom Lino. May the Lino Highway be remembered by people of Maramuni for as long as the world lives on.

This day surely has dawned for the people of Maramuni. May he who has ensured it happens be blessed richly. 

Passion & the commitment of the Author - YokAlip Kyak!

I Never Said Good Luck so You Could Come Back & Have it Tried on Me!

A broken heart has a wound that nothing heals.
Just leave it to the healing hands of Time!

Is there anything that’s entirely hidden in today’s era? It’s quite hard to say 'no' while denying reality. Lately I’ve seen a friend going restlessly blaring. I've figured things aren’t going well with her. Anyone could have noticed that, it’s obvious. 

It’s becoming a trend in this age that we don’t hold things back; we don’t ask for permission; we don’t wait. Maybe we’ll apologize later. All we want is to first jump in. We have developed an emotion that drives our breath so restless to throw up anything out of our mouths. 

It’s quite funny, yet it is just how it is – this is happening and maybe we’ll have to leave with it. In relationship especially, when it is broken the next moment both or one of the partners become the wisest person ever, teaching all that wonderful stuffs in social media. Staying up restless, posting one shit after another keeps the person busy till daybreak with an anticipation that someone would fill up that vacuum within.  

My friend used to be a very content person; I’ve known her for a long time. We’ve been good friends then to love doves since a long way back. She never knew a single thing about social media, though she was a young girl of my age. She used to tell me Facebook wasn’t good for young people. She talks different about those of us who were on social media, which sometimes put me off to at an extensive level of guilt for using it. But, to be honest I liked her for it too. 

She was different from us, very matured and rare. I feared much of talking unnecessarily with her as she always put me off too. Jokes were never part of her life. She never had any ambition for fun and entertainment. But now, it’s a whole different story for her. She’s gotten so famous at the very place she never liked before. Now she speaks all the wise-man wisdom, bible quotes alongside with even filths spilled out from the same mouth with restless uploads of blares and blares. Should I call that self-pity or should I say she’s become an over-night motivational speaker? What else will I call her when she goes silent again after getting served?  

           

Sometimes weirdest moments strike when you least expect them to or even not at all. You don’t anticipate a slightest wedge of an incursion into your life during a fine day, do you? I left all the books that explain thirsts. It’s Friday of course the weekend falls and I’m totally lost in its enchanting beauties. My entire attention’s on the juicy water melon. It pours out the liquid of its soggy substance that quenches the thirst of my whole body. Drunkards say “never mind the bottle. As long as it gets you drunk.” That sound’s Sweet, right! I wouldn’t care much. The crowd wasn’t my concern. I’m a happy-go-lucky guy at this place without knowing how it will ever get there.

It’s typical being like this at this place – Waigani market, the place you always feel like you don’t care about anything. It’s overcrowded almost every day and noisy and smelly all together at once, yet we still like it here; or should I say I like it here. I don’t have good manners too while finding myself at waigani market. People say you should be descent; eat right and at right places. Well, to be honest I forget all that courtesy lectures. I don’t desire to tell anybody to become like me but,  I do feel sometimes that I’m another witless goat feeding arbitrarily on just anything laid squarely across those dirty wetly shelves. As long as my uncaring consumption manners never trouble me, I prefer it the best place.

Well, let’s cut that crap of dirty-beauty stuffs about waigani market for now. I’m there at this place doing my normal stuffs. Like I said it’s Friday afternoon and I’m very busy. I never knew I would meet the most feared person in my whole life here. I had a strange feeling running through my nerves and it bothered me very much. It exerted a massive pressure on my blood that got me impatient. I have no idea if the sixth sense works this way it was a very strong feeling. A sturdy radiance of a tailing from a far hooked up with my spirit. Did this happen by some sort of coincidence, or had someone been following me? Spinning around to see who it was had me placed to a great regret – I shouldn’t have done that; I shouldn’t have turned around. 

What my eyes saw reminded me of a million stuffs that I buried a few years back, and that I promised never to look again. I looked away at the same instant as I realized who had been watching me all along. I then started to act as if I never saw anything. I wished nobody ever saw me too. I just didn’t want any trouble. My movements switched. I stopped eating and pretended to be a gentle man. Little 50^t for sliced cucumber went in trade for a plastic bag and now I started collecting lettuces, onions, ginger and other stuffs that I didn’t even have in my shopping list. I wanted to pretend I’m busy shopping and to escape through it.

Unfortunately however, I never knew I was the target; I mean I wouldn’t have known. Sliding sideways through to the exit was a failed attempt. My hasty moves must have been obviously noticed. This nerve-wracking person was already there. My tiny world’s on a massive shake as she’s closing in gently with her eyes tacked hard on me. I never wanted it to be real. My pulse rose and I could hear the rustling crashes of my fretful heart beating so fast.  I thought I was hallucinating, yet it continued to keep my pulse impatient. I kept whispering to myself that it wasn’t real. No wonder this happened – as she was my ex-girlfriend. I wished I was Doctor Strange to have performed magic to create an escape portal right where I stood and disappear through it. To my misfortune it wasn’t possible. I just waited tensely to be knocked down with reality.

     

I have feared so much that I would meet my ex-girlfriend someday. Some say your first-love is your love forever others say your first-love is your best teacher ever, yet others say it’s just a game doesn’t matter who’s the first or second or who comes and goes. But to me, I don’t know much. Loving the one I never knew wasn’t mine had always been an awful nightmare to me it hurts every day. I blame myself very much for letting her go too. I know I did nothing that pushed her away. It was entirely her decision, yet I regret to some extent. I could have tried a hundred times more. Or, could have I gone to her home begging for her stay, perhaps five times extra.

Sitting on my knees twice in front of her family members at her home only left me in shame and crushed. I just can’t picture that moment again in my mind now. It disappointments me and bring me through to a lot of setbacks. Putting together the better moments we had and those we could have had together keeps me awake until daybreak. I sometimes wish I’d never been in that relationship. No one fought with me for me. All those in that house watched me teasingly as I may have looked stupid and senseless. Of course I now feel that is a stupidest thing I ever did back then though; I never cared what people would say about my actions, as long as I wanted her so much. Sitting on my knees at her home with merely tears seemed nothing.

I have no idea how this moment transpired at waigani market though. I don’t know too if she mastered my escape lucks or should I perhaps say the nature wasn’t on my side. This time I couldn’t do what I always do to avoid seeing her. She was already standing next to me whispering a soft ‘Hi’ into my ears. It didn’t take long enough. All that happened years back were brought back from graves. I remembered that evening when a smooth tap of “Hi” knocked on my messenger from a beautiful girl. Back then she was an angel, a light in my dark. You could see those oily linings on her face that emits a scrumtrelesent shine clearly. It was barely heard to find a single wring on her glossy look. My cold heart gets so warm every time I’m with her. The magnitude of salient lightning she radiates through that charisma on her face plunges my heart forever to a serene surface.

She gets so prettier when she expresses anger and even beyond when she is happy. My lullabies had always been those angelic reverberations captivatingly gripped in her voice to flow through thick and thin for her love for me. There had never been a single day in our calendar with rain or sun; or neither had we have time nor space between us. Never could I go hungry or tired while sitting next to her. This life had me seeing us together as an exemplary couple years ahead, raising kids, involving in business standing side by side, worshiping the Lord together and living a happy life forever. Now all that people say about regret has become reality. Dreams have been shattered as reality took over! How have I brought this fantasy to myself?    

Seeing her again at waigani market laid a solid touch on the wounds that I managed so hard to keep unspoken. I hardly figured what’s gotten into her; nobody ever told me, not even today. I have asked myself hundreds of question to see if I could indicate a possible thing that could have been the reason. Was it because I was poor and didn’t have any parents? Or, because I couldn’t buy her any presents on her birthdays? I understood very well of differences in our statuses. She was better than me in just everything, she knew that better too! But, she knocked and knocked until she’s finally allowed in. When I denied being in relationship with her, she persisted. She used to tell me I was just the kind of person she ever wanted to be with. This had me thinking she saw a better thing in me that I never saw myself.

Every time I look at the mirror, I see a different person; ugly and a parentless orphan who has nothing that is in anyway a diamond. I used to think nobody would ever want me and love me. My clouded mind accustomed me to class myself to a level below everyone else’s waist. But having a beautiful girl around me gave me a new hope. The feeling had always been different with her. I never felt like this before. She turned my world around and made it so colorful that to repay I could do just anything for her. I didn’t want her treat to go to a waste. So, as crystal as I remember, I have never let her down in anything she ever needed me for. Not for once I saw my insolvent conditions as any reason to stay away. Sadly, on that unforgettable night at her family home when she told me I was a pathetic looser and that I wasn’t her type however, this impressive world I’ve built around her completely crumple to ashes. My heart was torn apart.  

I don’t remember well how I got home. The Usual Magnetic touches of delightful pillows this time didn’t work; all seemed worthless. It’s 02:00am in the morning and I’m still up. I couldn’t go to sleep. Trying to figure out what went wrong had my mind exasperated. My blood kept boiling out and through every vein. It’s a displeasing whiff of setback from alongside that covered the whole night. I took a several bath, even tried a countless breathing exercises just to find ways in to have control over mind, yet to no avail. None of what I tried brought out a single glimpse. 

Turning south seemed pointless.  Looking up clutched me lost to an ocean of emptiness as this load beneath my neck weighed me to ground in wide grave of an outright darkness.   It was gruesome. I never knew trickles ran through and off my ears to the pillow. Huge vapors of hot tears drowned me as I struggled to keep my head above waters on an overflowed lake. That morning was soundless, yet it squeezed me firmly and silently to one fold. All my strength was gone, I was choked. It felt like the world was ending.  I was just at the verge of throwing myself off to a hanging cliff. Having me humiliated by the one I gave my life to and left crushed at the earth’s floor buried me forever.

Only two things were possible; either to let go her and start my life all over again or to just take my life and end all the pain that morning. The two wrestled through the discomfort of which one is now very clear that I chose it. It was honestly the hardest thing to do ever; to say “good luck” again to a person that I thought was forever mine had my heart torn right down in the middle. I couldn’t see perfectly to type those words as hot tears unceasingly collected around my eyes. My whole system rejected giving me the permission to let go her. 

It fought so hard to keep her still snug to my heart. ‘If I let her go, I would forever be hurt’ as I was reminded. To completely forget her was simply to take my life and it seemed a best option too. I actually tried at least once a lethal injection with a ½ inches syringe containing a mixture of drugs. Despite this polydrug use obviously, I’m still surviving and I have no explaining for how and why it didn’t work on me.

What a surprise, yet saddest day this was at waigani market? Some say ‘the world is too small.’ Do they mean people that we’ve crossed paths come around again, or do they mean it’s actually small? A pretty girl that I’ve ever known was long gone! The current was a million times different from what it used to be. I couldn’t believe what my eyes saw at waigani market. Just a few years and she became that? She looked pale and craggy. I had no idea where she got those mangles on her face? She lost her bums. It couldn’t even hold up a tiny flyer thigh she had put on to her waist. 

She came in her work uniform, which didn’t fit in well. Those electrifying sparkles of her eyes were long gone. She looked as if she just walked out of a highland-smoky house. I just wondered what happened; her swollen eyebrows reminded of a countless abused women and girls I see every day in social media. She had lost all her strength that she couldn’t balance up her poster at waigani market. It couldn’t even work when she tried with her usual smile. All that it brought was only a resemblance of sense of that simper when it used to be radiated from her charm within.

I was very angry at first; never wanted to see her face anymore. I remembered that unbearable pain I endured; those moments when my days turned dark and rained every day. Sadly however, that wave of sadness took over. Seeing a thoroughly different version of her in her looks troubled me too. All that beauty left her snug to a great vacuum. I replied her with a fluffy ‘hi’ and that’s it. I never dared to look. She asked how life has been at my end thoughtlessly and I gave her no reply. 

I quickly turned back on her and walked away. As a person who’s been around with me for a long time and that she understands very well of my weaknesses, she followed me out to the car park outside the market. She knows what it’s like when I’m angry & she has just the flattering remedy for it. This time she may have thought it’s just like always. Clearly, she forgot when and how we broke up and why.

She said she wanted a talk. She added that she missed me, or she misses us. Oh yeah, it was very clear now. No wonder she was so restless on facebook. So she actually had an emptiness within herself that she wanted to bring across to me?  She couldn’t message me through inbox though as I blocked her of conversations. She was only open to my friends list on facebook. Those restless blares became very clear now. She wanted someone in her life. Sadly however, that wasn’t me; I wasn’t her type and that she made it very clear when she broke up with me. 

Despite her attempts to talk with, I walked in straight to a taxicab and slammed the door shut. She wanted to jump in too but I asked the driver to lock all the doors. As she felt the doors couldn’t open, she stood still leaning to the taxi and allowed thick drops of tears off her eyes. She couldn’t say a word. I pulled down the glass to a bit lower and told her, “I never said good luck so you could come back and have it tried on me.” I told her I was busy mending a heart that was broken into pieces. I suggested it was better if she explored the world and find some guys who were of her type.  

She stood crying as we drove away. From then on, she’s never been on facebook. Maybe she’s gotten herself served better with a best one of her type already.

MORAL: This story may NOT actually be mine & I can’t let you know whose story it is too. But the moral of the story is; do not give someone a false hope! A person with ambivalent heart cannot make a quick promise to be with someone; or to say ‘you can’t make a promise that can’t be kept!’ The world is still full of mysteries. Stay detached until you’ve finally decided!

The Passion & Commitment of the author – YokAlip Kyak

  

It Never took Few Years for a Tree to Grow into its Big Shape Today!

A lot of people lived in the world. But only a few people have actually lived. Those that lived are the ones who had their stories written, not by themselves, but by those who learned from them to live their own lives!

Picture of a fully matured tree.

A very important question asked to begin with is, “do I control my life, or my life controls me?” Jack Canfield – an American author and a motivational speaker once said “you only have control over three things in your life – the thoughts you think, the images you visualize, and the actions your take.” It's sure to be informed that the loss of governance over thoughts, views and actions is the loss of the entire existence. Thus, it's now urging to share deliberations on courses navigated by deluded thoughts and conceptions in the contemporary era to help it abated.

In today's education, a budding high-school junior hops study programs for the most approved. The low seems lower. It feels disappointing to be at the earth's foot. We hear lovely stories; elegant events have gotten our hobs up. The world has evolved. It's the new era. Countless fads and trends keep striking. Is social media – the major mastermind? It fits well in this context. Social media came just around 2000, but it's gone far and wide. Secrets are no more. The lowest stinks smell no shit. Aerial luxuries neither have decency nor innocence. It feels so adamant to keep graduation photo albums confidential. The incubators of all new born babies are in social media. The best meal, the best workplace with computer and alluring office kits installed, the best trips, the best dress and the best, best of every single experience has its best slice served to social media. This is it – the cutting edge trend. People say everything is now at our fingertip and it's very true thanks to computer and telecommunications technology.

In this drift, as noticed, all that is there in social media seems magnificently captivating! It glows on the fluid hearts of youngsters. Any person trying to tell of what doesn't seem right distracts a rainbow. This is sad, yet reality. Bulk of the individuals in social media has no containment. How can it be so easy for one to believe what the eye sees? When it's viewed from a far, the color is blue. When you get closer, it turns green. Even social media fads have had major touches on the lives of teenagers. Who knows how much in millions the developers of "face-app," "tiktoks," and "tap-to-play" and other addictive mobile apps make? Surely too are a countless of it approaching. Well, that isn't ours to worry about; we can't stop it. What‟s at stake is how we accept and deal with it. If a pretty young lady can easily be impelled to play a game that pretends to tell of her future fortunes at platforms like Facebook, how can she resist to dress or act like others whom she watches in social media? Well, it's sure people say 'move with the flow'. Such young persons feel lonely, lost and isolated when they are not part of a big move.

Are people really that happy with their lives as social media continues to tell about them? It's a big "wow" from a far. They take very high-class pictures of themselves and upload to social media. It looks pretty amazing beside and or inside that fancy house and the car and at beautiful places with pretty looking people. So that's it, the people in social media are that happy! I wouldn't be surprised if I had seen tinted facts of existence of some of these people. It isn't that easy to say a mountain is blue when it's entirely covered in green. You can't just say the two are in relationship when a guy walks with a girl. This swing terribly generated highest irritations and discomforts, distracting budding intelligence of tons of people.

The world is coated with enticing stuffs that rattle blooming minds to see what's on the arena than assessing how it was brought to the arena. School leaver forms (SLF) and or job applications have collected retches of enchanted thoughts devised from fantasied hallucinations. Getting employed to as a bank clerk, sales representative and front-desk receptionist or as security guard is a shithole no university or college graduate wants to dig into. Is it because people say, "aim for the stars?" Or because we want to be like everyone else? Do we ever sit down to think how a person built his life and now he's a legend? And to reason out why he enjoys what he enjoys? Or do we just want to have a seat at the big table? Most of us, especially those born around 1990s and forward have accepted the counterfeit and denied reality.

There are people that had their names printed on the world map. Others now regard them as legends. I don't know if it had taken them just two years or a college paper to be who they are? Warren Buffet – an American Business Tycoon once said “Someone's sitting in the shade today because someone planted a tree a long time ago." I have read about and watched quite a good number of people who are legends today, yet none of them said things where very easy for them. The Microsoft Co-founder, Bill Gates said he never took a day off in his 20s. Not one! Six months after Gate's statement, Steve Jobs, Apple Co-Founder, confirmed how it feels to be a hardworking person! So, these guys and others in the same basket came a long way to embed the flags of their names on the moon.

What others say and do which you see in social media shouldn't be yours to worry. Grab what's beneficial, put it to use and start living your life. One of the downsides of social media you should know is that the more popular you get with shits, the cheapest you become. It's easy and doesn't take much time. But if your attractiveness is through commitment and hard-work, the most expensive and unbreakable you become! You don't tell your own stories but others do. Never accept to think it took only a few years for a tree to grow into its huge shape. Never be like a foolish dog who throws away the bone on his mouth to go after another who seems to carry a greasy one! It's just a mirror reflection in your mind. Cherish and help grow the seed you have in your palm. Never be distracted by what you see in social media, rather turn those into a motivation. Start from the bottom. Start with scrapes. One life is meant to be lived meaningfully.

Thanks for reading!

May our Good Lord Bless you.

The passion & commitment of the author: YokAlip Kyak

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.