An October to Remember

By Leonard Fong Roka

The day before the PNGDF troops landed on Tunuru Catholic Mission I came into town from Kupe and returned with plans to return the next morning for market. But early the next morning others left and I decided to stay back but were returned on the way for our town was captured by the enemy. We lost our girls whom we met at the market for nothing but admiration; they were scattered like litter by the rain of bombs from Tunuru.

Arawa was calm; but the rolling waves on the beach were not ours; they

Were theirs, those men who came from New Guinea to take over our land.

The sky was theirs; those flying mechanical bats that came from New Guinea to fired guns on us.

And kill our men, women and future children for nothing

But to take over our land.

So we sang their songs as they said unto us over the few years;

Sitting ducks staring them snailing from the northern end of our country

Till that October night; till that October they made us run for the bush.

That 1992 October, that market day; we all dreamt to meet a sweet Rorovana girl

And gobble her cassava cake for love.

But our Arawa had a stroke from Tunuru that October dawn;

Those men of the sky and the sea from New Guinea rained bombs on us.

Recklessly, they bombed us to kill us for our land; they bombed us to rid our dignity;

They bombed us to eradicate our identity of Solomon;

they bombed to show us how lethal they were in tribal warfare so we faded.

That sad October morning; that market day in warring Arawa,

Toboinu was stocking her greens for the Arawa market at Topinang;

Measinu was making love to her Kitong on Namira Street;

Kingkobo was peeing on the lawn at Kaukapan Street;

 And the politician was snoring at Amino Road and hell dawned down hard.

The New Guineans wanted us death

So that they could take over our land, dignity and identity.

Thus, Toboinu stood idle as her Bougainville trembled;

Measinu and Kitong ran naked in their separate ways for the hills;

And Kingkobo kept peeing till sunset

And the politician woke sunbathing for there was not a roof in the abode.

So, they all ran into the bush; over the rivers and valleys for the Crown Prince Range

So that the New Guinean could not find

And kill them for their land, dignity and identity.

That October dawn in 1992 Arawa,

Mortar bombs!