Bougainville Poetry: Ovau is my Island

Leonard Fong Roka

In 2002, standing on the golden beaches of Lontis on the northern tip of Buka Island, my eyes did not see New Britain nor New Ireland or Manus. In 2005, standing on the romantic beaches of Olava in Buin, I was shocked by what I saw; a peaceful complete Northern Solomons of jet-black people!

Bougainville south islands

Taking a boat trip across the evil international border to Ovau and looking back at Bougainville, my island was so beautiful and playful  to its little children like Ovau, Choiseul, and Shortland Island and so on.

I was sad and sick of the of the indoctrination my people are still subjected to by the laws and institutions of the Papua New Guineans that rule our island and the Solomon Islands that exploit Western Province and Choiseul Province and give back nothing to my black people.

But then I knew deep in my broken heart that, Ovau is my island.

Ovau is my Island

 

Ovau is my island.

Torau Bay knows that; Olava knows that; thus,

Moisuru and Tokuaka longs to hear that song of re-union.

 

Ovau is my island.

Kamaleai knows that; Ghaomai knows that; thus, Harehare loves to see that marriage

Of long lost lovers of Solomon.

 

Ovau is my island.

Toumoa knows that; Kariki knows that; thus, Birambira waits to cuddle the fruits

Of that love long denied by oppressors of the nation, Northern Solomon.

 

Ovau is my island.

Nukiki knows that; Poroporo knows that; Malivanga knows that; thus, Polomai

Is willing to nurture that love that is,

Ovau is my island.