One of the most abundant birds, these magnificent birds are effortless fliers, the distinguishing forked tails are used are rudders. They avoid densely forested areas and thrive along human habitation, it shares a parasitic relation. A fearless scavenger they make patrolling flights in circles with long leisurely strokes and short glides before sweeping onto the food, that is held with the claws and transported to the mouth in flight. Bigger pieces are savored at leisure after alighting on a favorite perch. In case there are several kites in the vicinity of food it leads to immense action accompanying typical shrill mewing screams (in Hindi they are referred to as cheel from these calls). They could be seen floating in the sky on a clear day, the reason paper toys are named after them. Kumalau Tamali: The soul of a nation
Papua New Guinea (PNG) literature is considered to be one of the oldest indigenous creative expressions of Pacific. PNG consist of about 600 small islands with about 6million people, an organized and documented output began only in 1960s with education becoming popular.
By 1970s the antagonist atmosphere towards colonialism provided incubative atmosphere for many nationalist writings, these lines from one of the best known writer: Waiko (The Unexpected Hawk) captures the sentiments of a nascent uncomprehending traditional society and its attempts in understanding the technologically superior and culturally arrogant outsiders. After the police has burnt down a village whose people had refused to comply with a government order to move to become part of a single large village:
Son: Why do they treat us like this?
Mother: No one knows why. We do not understand them, and they do not try to understand us. But every tree has its roots deep down in the ground. Even their actions must have roots. I want you to go to school, so that you can dig out the roots. Do not hesitate to uproot their tree and drink their wisdom.
There is an interesting take on war between the Australians and Japanese in PNG by Vincent Eri in Crocodiles –one of the first novels to be published from PNG: ‘It seemed a silly idea that the white men and the yellow men should come to Papua to fight one another. Still, there was no clear story about the reasons why they were fighting one another’. How much I love these lines. Real history is about what people think about wars and not who fought whom. Another line I came across “Colonisers gave names to our land, they named mountains, rivers, seas and other landmarks as if we did not have any names for these places” (Tuhiwais)
These lines from Kasaipwalova's poem "Reluctant Flame"
Cold bloodless masks stare me, not for my colour
But for my empty wealth house and passion logic
Look how orderly fat and silent they float this earth
With their guns, their airplanes, their cyclone
Wheels and their bishops
It is quite a long poem with 200 odd lines and considered one of the most influential writings against colonialism around the world. In the same poem
Each day the weighty cover shrieks arrogantly
Vowing to crush and smother the tiny flame within that
pulse
I will call my ancestors and all the spirits of my
grounds and waters
Inside each mountain lies a tiny flame cradled and
weighted above
People will live, people will die
But the tiny flame will grow its arms and legs very
slowly
Until one day its volcanic pulse will tear the green
mountain apart…
Forerunner
among these protests towards Australian occupation was poet Kumalau Tamali. Tamali (1947-2006) was born in Tawi, a little island on the south coast of the Manus District. He had a career as teacher and pastor. Even respected and restrained poets like him couldn’t avoid using violent expression against colonizers (there is so much of anger in these words) in The Bush Kanaka Speaks, he writes
The kiap shouts at us
forcing the veins to stand out in his neck
nearly forcing the excreta out of his bottom
he says: you are ignorant
He says: you are ignorant,
but can he shape a canoe,
tie a mast, fix an outrigger?
Can he steer a canoe through the night
without losing his way?
Does he know when a turtle comes ashore
to lay its eggs?
In the same poem, he continues
Every white man the gorment sends to us
forces his veins out shouting
nearly forces the excreta out of his bottom
shouting: you bush kanaka.
He says: you ol les man!
Yet he sits on a soft chair and does nothing
just shouts, eats, drinks, eats, drinks,
like a woman with a child in her belly.
These white men have no bones.
“Bush kanaka” was degrading reference to indigenous people. Evidences suggest that indigenous people lived in PNG for thousands of years. Writes Tamali after PNG wins independence from colonial rule I have come from 50000 years so they think. Others say I was born on 16 September, 1975. Let my arrows fly another 50000 years. Tawali’s poem uses innovative language, a mix of local in a carefree way. His poems also reflected his concern over the destiny of his land and country.
Niu
You are the baby that crawls
too long.
All the others are walking
what has your mother been doing with you?
Have you been carried too long?
Have you been fed too much?
... One day nobody will be around
and you will have to carry weight
if you can't
you will fall.
Niu translates as coconut. Tawali is not only speaking about the struggle of a young coconut shoot, but he is referring to nationhood, or Niugini, in Tok Pisin (an indigenous language). In an interview Tawali mentions "The word "niu" means coconut in my language. In fact you are right when you say that it's an allegory for "New Guinea”.
Tamali’s environmental concerns were well known, he writes: The crucial questions one may wish to pose are, should we open every commercially viable mine now ? Or, if we think of our forests, should we cut down every commercially valuable tree now ? For whom are we mindlessly and heartlessly doing this ? This gold, copper or log rush is not for us, it is for those who greedily want to devour our heritage, before we become aware of it. Our environment is like the outer layer of our skin. When we strip it off, we render ourselves vulnerable. Conservation and stewardship have their own merit. We would be wise indeed for our own good and the good of future generations if we did not open every mine and cut down every tree for commercial purposes.
Russel Soaba writes a poem on Tamali’s death that captured the mood of people of PNG…
A Tribute to Kumalau Tawali
His name is echoed over and over again.
Through a tribesman's heartbeat
Through the beat of the garamut
Or a crescendo of waves cascading along the shores of PNG
Sometimes you hear his name whispered
Across the silence of the ocean
Especially when the moon is high
And the turtles are on shore
Gently kicking sand in the air
But spoiling for a fight to survive
But most times you hear his name mentioned
In the classroom
And at orientation meetings
When a new batch of young men and women
Comes to colleges and universities
To study to learn and to write.
That is Kumalau Tawali.
And that is how he is known
Here in PNG
And all over the world.
In reality he is the soul of the nation.
Tamali’s other popular poem includes The Game Upon the Sand, Take This Flower and The River Flows Back