By Florence Jaukae
An entry in the Abt Associates Award for Women’s Literature
She stood beautifully under the Highlands sunlight, her white miso grass skirt beautifully tied around her waist, with nothing covering her bare chest.
She was a beautiful Goroka Woman, she was nice and slim, had tattoo on her little innocent face, and around her thigh.
That was her beauty. She was a simply Goroka woman.
Sea was not part of her life, paddling a canoe was very scary for her, but she had to paddle, she had to go fishing. Unlike her village, where her father did the hunting, she chose a “nambis man”, or “bun blo pis” as many say, to be the love of her life.
From the cold misty Goroka Valley, her journey took her to the beautiful little island of Kairiru somewhere in Lower Sepik, off the coast of Wewak hill.
She knew nothing about the big sea, her Goroka miso grass skirt was replaced with a beautiful bright sago grass skirt.
She tasted the “Naungu” and loved it. She paddled her first canoe and she loved it, she caught her first fish and she loved it. She was amazed and loved everything around her. She was surrounded with the deep blue sea and white sandy beaches, swaying coconut trees and cold nice drinking water.
That was where her heart was placed, on the white sandy beach of Kairiru Island.
Mama my love, you are my shining star, what would life be without you? Where would I be without you? How do I find my journey back to where you first wore your sago grass skirt?
Oh mama, every day, you’re torturing my heart with worry. I do not want to lose you. I am not a good writer, but all I am able to do now is to write a little at a time about how I feel every day.