Help Amnesty International Australia stop sorcery-related violence & killings in PNG, both now and in the future.

Taste my tears


Silence my screams

Catch my hits

Stop my trembling


Please click this link to donate  https://www.amnesty.org.au/support/index/33584?utm_campaign=PNGONLINEXMAS13&utm_source=SMEDIAXMAS13&utm_content=twttrshare&utm_medium=twitter

Taken from Amnesty International Australian website https://www.amnesty.org.au/support/index/33584?utm_campaign=PNGONLINEXMAS13&utm_source=SMEDIAXMAS13&utm_content=twttrshare&utm_medium=twitter

Women Not Witches

Julie suffered severe injuries when she was kidnapped and gang raped © Vlad Sokhin

Six-year-old Julie was kidnapped by four men in Lae. They raped her for eight hours and then left her on the street.

Her injuries are so severe that she can barely walk and can never have children.


Facing violence, torture and death is a horrifying reality for many women and girls in PNG.

Violence and murder

Despite new laws making sexual and domestic violence against women a crime, women and girls in PNG still face savage attacks and even death at the hands of strangers and family members. Gang members in the country admit to committing rape and armed robbery, with two-thirds of their victims being women.

Sorcery-related attacks

Women and girls in PNG are also the victims of sorcery-related attacks. Accused of witchcraft – often by neighbours or loved ones – they are subject to beatings, torture and death, with some even being burned alive.

Such cases are rarely brought to court, perpetuating the brutal tradition.

But things can change.


To prevent further violence and death against women and girls in PNG, we need to act fast. We can tackle these horrendous issues head on from two angles.

  1. Short term: protecting women and girls at immediate risk of violence and killings in PNG.
  2. Long term: bringing about lasting change in PNG and throughout the entire Pacific region.

Short term

During times of crisis or danger, your support allows us to:

  • Help those in immediate danger of violence and death by providing rescue, relocation and shelter.
  • Encourage as many people as possible to take action on behalf of those at risk.
  • Provide publicity on cases of violence and death and let the PNG authorities know the world is watching.

Long term

With enough resources and research we can continue to:

  • Pressure the PNG government to ensure the implementation of legislation to protect women.
  • Work with local activists on the ground to help end violence against women in PNG for good.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!


For your posts this year that have tugged at my heart, made me laugh and taught me things I never knew, inspired me and permitted me to share in your world.

I look forward to reading more next year.

Happy 2014, may it be all you want and much, much more!


Friend or Foe


She sat shivering. Constantly checking whether her skirt was covering her breasts, pulling it with trembling hands up again and again. Silently she mouthed a prayer thanking God that she had worn a long skirt that day.
Outside the sun shone but no sunlight shone through the window. It was blocked by the people staring in.
She closed her eyes trying to shut out the eyes.
“You okay?” he snapped, in Pidgin Papua New Guinea’s second language, before slapping the file down on the table between them. She looked up at him. He threw down a black t-shirt and motioned for her to put it on before he pulled back a chair and plonked down. She pulled the t-shirt over her head. Then reached under it and carefully worked her skirt back down until she felt the waistband back around her waist. Once again she wrapped her arms around her body.
“You’re lucky, they only hit you, cut you and ripped your clothes’ off. Other women have been in far worse situations,” he said while looking at the people staring in. “What were you doing walking alone in the first place? You should KNOW better. What did you expect when you put yourself in that sort of position?” he asked.
“I… was walking to work,” she explained.
“Well next time go with someone,” he retorted. “How many?” he asked tapping his pen against the table as he looked at the ‘Domestic Violence is a Crime’ poster on the light blue cement wall.
“Three,” she said quietly while reaching to her back. She pulled out the shirt stop it sticking to her back.
“What, SPEAK UP, what is wrong with you?” he snapped.
“Three,” she tried again this time louder.
“What weapons did they have?”, he asked.
“A rifle, bush knife and a kitchen knife,” she told him closing her eyes feeling faint. “They ca…me out from the overgrown grass on the vacant plot on the other side of the Highway and…. called me to wait for them, so I ran across the umm..Highway to get to the other side,” she carried on, not stopping.
“That’s WHY they hit you and cut you, you should have listened to them,” he scolded her.
“I thought……that. If..if I got to the other side of the..the road then I could follow the iron fence and try to make it to the residential…housing area which is just before the warehouse where I worked but..they reached me before I got there..” she looked at him, bending up and down trying to make eye contact.
He kept shaking his head.
“Is there someone you want to call to pick you up or do you want us to drop you off at the hospital to get those cuts look at?” he asked looking at her for the second time since he walked through the door.
“I want to call…” she said.
“Use the phone on the table,” he said while pushing out the chair to stand up.
She gulped before saying, “ex..excuse me sir.”
He turned and glared. “Yesssss,” he ground slowly out.
“Did…. ummmm…did you get them and don..don’t you want to hear the rest of the story?,” she asked steeling herself not to look away.
“No vehicle, besides they probably already ran away…and you should be thankful nothing bad happened, did they rape you?” he growled.
She shook her head. He turned and left.
She sat staring at the doorway after he left, before turning and looking at the people staring in. Only three remained.
“Shame, shame on you,” she spat out. Two left, one stayed put, a grin spreading on his face. They stared at each other until he turned his head.
“Bitch,” he mumbled as he walked away.
Minutes later she heard Rose’s voice asking where she was. Rose burst in the room. She came to a dead stop.
“Let’s just go home,” she said, struggling to keep her voice in check.
Rose nodded, “Oh my god your cut, your arms are cut,” she said blinking rapidly trying to stop the tears from escaping.
“Rose, pleassse…,” she pleaded.
Nodding again Rose helped her up and they made their way out the door and down the corridor to the front desk where her interviewer sat talking to another officer who glanced at them.
“Are you okay?,” the officer asked coming out and attempting to take her other arm before realizing it had blood soaked strips of cloth tied around them.
“Sandy,” she blurted out.
“What?,” Rose asked her confused.
“My name is Sandy,” she said again, louder almost screeching. “My name is Sandy, you didn’t even ask my name to put on your report,” Sandy said. “So I am telling you… it’s Sandy and I’ll get my husband to check if you are looking for them,” she screeched at the interviewer whose lip curled and twitched as he stared at her.
Then Sandy saw her husband tearing in, his face scrunched in anger. The tears she had held back so long fell free.
“I’ll be back,” her husband told the officer, who was now asking the interviewer for the Sandy’s file, before gently steering her to the car.
“Thankful, he said, I should be thankful,” Rose heard Sandy say over and over again as she tried to hold Sandy trying to stop her shivering. Sandy jerked back. Rose pulled her arm away then realized her inner arm was covered with blood.
“My arms, legs and my back hurt,” Sandy moaned as her husband maneuvered the car out of the police station car park. At the end of the driveway, he stopped.
“Hospital?” he asked no one in particular, staring at his wife’s black eyes, split swollen lips and bruised cheeks through the rear view mirror.
“Quickly,” Rose said watching her sister-in-law talking to herself.

I know its not a poem. Bear with me please, am down with Malaria.

Police brutality has been bugging me for a while but I don’t have the brain power to sit and write a poem so I pulled out this from my pile. 

Links at the bottom


UN Special Rapporteur on Torture Presents Preliminary Findings on His Mission to Papua New Guinea

my brother has been on the wrong side of the law..he likes his booze and hangs with the wrong crowd.  One christmas years ago, the police had thought my brother was withholding information. They thought he knew which young men had held up a group of gamblers and made away with their winnings.

Its very professional how they investigate. They pick up any drunk young man they find. After all where else would a young man get money to drink. It still happens today.

So they took him and a friend of his into custody and decided to question him with the help of a 3X2 timber. They broke his legs, “incase he ran” and beat him into a coma. I still to this day do not know what he went through during the night he spent in their custody. My mother searched the streets all night for her son going from house to house until she found out he was in custody. His friend they cut with a razor blades both were rushed to hospital in comas. Both managed to survive.

My brother changed after that. He hated the police with a passion and would help young men running from the police. Nothing we could do could stop this. It eventually ended up with him serving several years for Assessory.

The story above is based on a experience I had where I was attacked several years ago while walking to work. I was not cut up but beaten..all the words are what was said to me.  I added the knife wounds because I know of people who have been in that situation.  The police are supposed to our friends but after the incident… 

If you also notice in my poems I use neighbours as saviors often because more then likely they are your best bet until the police turn up.

Yes they have brushed up their tatics alot. But still the public’s old fears remain and the recent news haven’t been helpful. I write this with hesitation knowing a lot of my extending family are in our police force.

So I see the other side. The long hours, understaffed, minimun wages, and they work around very tight budget restraints, and no mental health assessments after shooting etc.. but still…isn’t that what you signed up for to be our friends, our protecters.

If you have the time please tell me how to improve my short stories.  Honesty welcome.

I know Angels and so do you


Last night frustrated with life. I knelt down and prayed. I heard My Lord Jesus whisper the answers to every request.
I asked for patience.
He whispered a name and said, “Don’t you remember what you were like before he came?”
I asked for unconditional love.
I heard the smile in his voice as he said, “look into your child’s eyes nothing you will ever do or say will take that away. My love is the same.”
I asked for strength.
Again he whispered a name. Then said, “When you heard what she had been through and still was able to smile everyday. Didn’t you have the strength to do the same?”
Every character trait, I asked for he whispered a name. Then showed what they gave me.
I always thought these would be given to me supernaturally in some special way.  Jesus would wave his hands over me while I was sleeping and I would wake up filled with love, courage, strength, patience and wisdom and so many other things I have asked for, in my many prayers.
Then I realize what has been in front of me all along, every step of the way, each and every day!
He did it by sending people or Angels my way.
Wether it was as a spiritual mentor or someone to make me laugh so I could make through another day. Or wether it was by witnessing their life, their support or just by being themselves. I learnt from them.
He introduced people in my life, throughout my life. Sometimes for short periods or long ones depending on what I needed at that time, at that stage of my journey to a better me.
Close your eyes and think back to the most painful times in your life. Chances are you will see a friend or someone who made your life bearable during those days.
Or maybe during a time of rage when the voice of reason was a family member or a workmate. 
Or just someone who said, “Hello” while you were walking to work one day feeling like a grain of sand on a long damp beach.
God sent them your way!


RIP M.B   Thank you for all your “Hellos“.

Several weeks ago I made a trip into town to see the dentist and do some shopping for my home.

While I was there I was told a friend a former workmate was very sick and in hospital. I said I would visit her and went to the dentist which was only a few corridors down from where she was.  A couple of minutes walk.

When I left, I decided I would go later and went to the lodge where we were staying. The next day I went shopping even managed to go get some news clothles, reply to comments on my blog then went back to the lodge. We left the next day.

She passed away a couple days later. She was a good woman.

Please go visit your friends, loved ones, family. Make the time. Even if it is to say “Hello”.

This is an old piece I wrote and emailed out to my friends years before I got the courage to start my blog.  I did some changes to it and posted it for you all and mostly to my friend M.B.

Attemped Coup in Papua New Guinea

To my dear Jen and all my friends.

I am fine. We all are. I have been sitting monitoring all day glued to the TV and listening to the radio. When I got an email about Jen’s new post on her blog http://steponacrack.wordpress.com

Thank my dear dear friend for your prayers and thoughts.

I deleted the first post I wrote upon advice to tread carefully.  I was told  not to incit worry and panic.  If anything deleting the post incited more worry then writing it. I should have known better.  To my friends overseas I am sorry. 

Yesterday there was an attempt coup.

These are links that Jen had on her blog,

Soldiers oust PNG defence chief amid power struggle

Mutiny Leader Demands New Papua New Guinea Gov’t

While they say it is over, in Papua New Guinea you learn early on in life to expect the unexpected. So I’ll wait to see what happens.

I sit here wondering how long my fellow country men & women will take it before they start doing instead of watching. It doesn’t take long for unrest to spread.

Two men fighting over who is the Prime Minister while a country needs to be run..total rubbish.  

Thank you for your prayers. Yesterday we prayed as well over the phones, with our neighbours and with our families.

The clowns

Up on the tree sits several clowns,

bring them down,

oh bring them down,

minions sit at their feet,

catering for their every whim,

swinging from tree to tree,

at the stump,

faceless weep,

in the villages,

in the streets,

begging for their every need,

Up on the tree sits several clowns,

bring them down,

oh bring them down.

In all honesty I am so deeply angry and I think a lot of my fellow country people are as well.

May God be with you always.

Thank you again,




If I should cast a pebble in a lake,

it matters not,

that the ripples venture not beyond the lake,

but that in that instance something changed,

for that moment something I did,

moved something else,

I was the reason for that change,

Whether man or creature have seen is irrelevant,

I have seen,

and my soul has healed,

 if only by an inch that day.


Thank you!!!

For your support but mostly for your posts this year that have made me laugh, cry, taught me things I never knew, inspired me and permitted me to share in your world.

I look forward to reading more next year. 🙂

Happy 2012, may it be filled with everything you dream of and much, much more!

I shall write you in 2012.

Stay safe.


Merry Christmas

 My Christmas Gift

Under my Christmas Tree

stunning wrapped presents

for all my friends and family


except for a single sheet

written on each

a promise from me

a promise

I will fight to keep

no more excuses

no more busy me

more phone calls

more emails

more date nights

more girls nights

more playtime

more of


in return

I know

I will receive





I would like to say Merry Christmas to everyone.

For those of you that don’t celebrate Christmas, I hope you have a great holiday.

Peace, love and joy be with you all my friends.




 As we strive for our dreams,

 Along the way assholes we meet,

Trample them with your feet,

Then stomp on them as you leave,

Don’t let people destroy your dreams,

Cause in the end its all we can give,

 As we believe our children will learn to live,

Don’t give in, dream, live,

When you stumble and fall

Don’t stay down too long,

Pick yourself up and say,

okay so I was wrong,

But tomorrow I will give it my all,

So the next time you and the asshole meet,

You can grin and say eat shit,

Cause me I have loved and lived,

No more do I live in fear,

I refuse to wallow in misery,

You have not got the better of me,

You were just a piece of shit,

I was unfortunate enough to meet.


This I wrote for H, Trex and D. Who inspire me everyday in everyway.