Mask of Sanity
this Cloak of Civility
churning to a boil
stoked by Rage
spluttering molten blood
from unspeakable desire
sweet, sweet the ache
I am a blaze
I am a boil
Mother kills Rapist – 25th December,2014
A gulf mother, enraged by the rape of her teenage daughter tracked and stabbed her daughter’s rapist at Malalaua this morning.
Police say the woman tracked the alleged rapist to his hiding place in the outskirts of Malalaua and stabbed him with a knife four times in the back.
Charges downgraded for mum who killed rapist – 26 December 2014
Police in Gulf reported that a mother who killed her daughter’s rapist on Christmas Eve in Malalaua will have her murder charges downgraded to man slaughter.
Gulf Provincial Police Commander Lincon Gerari says several witnesses came forward and police established that the mother was acting in self-defence.
Markham Father kills daughter’s rapist – October 19, 2014
A Markham man handed himself over to the Morobe police after he stabbed a man who had allegedly raped his 10-year-old daughter last year.
Morobe Police commander Kaiglo Ambane says the man Kaiapit tracked down and stabbed a man who had sexually assaulted his daughter during 2013 Christmas holidays.
PPC Ambane says the incident took place on December the 20th when the man enticed the man’s daughter with PK chewing gum to go with him to a river near the village.
Years ago I would read or hear of news stories like the ones above and wondered how I would react. Would I be able to walk away and leave it to the hands of the police.
Then I was faced with the possibility my daughter was being abused by a relative. I was filled with a rage I never felt before.
This poem came from that experience. Those emotions I felt.
I know its disturbing.
to break out
to take flight
they emerge alas…
tis not sunlight
Sad thing is..it happens all over the world.
A REPORT on child labour in the country says children entered the sex trade from as young as 10 years.
The report is on the rapid assessment in Port Moresby on commercial sexual exploitation of children and children working on the streets based on a survey conducted between Dec 2010 and Jan 2011 by the University of South Pacific, National Research Institute and the Young Women’s Christian Association.
A total 175 children participated and 161 of them were interviewed using questionnaires. Most of the children interviewed were 17 years old, the youngest was 12 and 90% of the children interviewed were young girls.
“The most common age at which children entered sex work was 15 years (34%) but some of the children entered into commercial sexual exploitation from as young as 10years of age,” the report said.
“Forty-one per cent of the children were sex workers before the age of 15, which indicates that children enter the sex trade from a very young age.”
Quick check for dirty spots
Another quick mop
Must make sure the toothbrushes are in their assigned spots
he’s on the dot
TICK TICK K-A-B-O-O-M
I… forgot to clean the clock
When you meet her you would never know from her beaming face that she has been through hell and is still clawing her way out of it.
She can neither read or write and but is fortunate to have a job as a labourer. With this job as well as selling betelnut after work she manages to make ends meet and support her children.
She has an ex who won’t let go and prefers to sweet talk her into coming back with anything he can get his hands on. Its been years of constant physical, mental and verbal abuse.
She has taken out restraining orders but her ex does not adhere to them.
Recently he jabbed her in the thigh with a knife it would had been deeper had she not been standing behind a door forcing it to close while he swung wildly at her
I don’t know how to help her. Relocating her I think is not an option because she can not read or write and finding a job would be extremely difficult and I do not have the means to support her. We do not have welfare benefits in PNG so it seems like a dead end.
She had him arrested but is under immense pressure from his wantoks (relatives) to drop the charges and do away with the restraining orders.
I am moving to town in several days and I am very worried about her.
She lives in fear.
I feel like crap but don’t how else to help her.
Sometimes I think it would be better if I did not care. If I looked the other way. But I can’t so how the frig do I get rid of the guilt? The feeling of being useless and what do I do?
Sometimes life is so #$%&*.
No hidey hole
I try to run,
I try to hide,
there is no hidey hole,
he can’t find,
I peek outside,
and wave to my friends,
Shut my eyes tight,
and I’m by their side,
until he yanks my hair,
and brings me back inside.
Far away eyes,
to the ordinary eye,
safer than reality,
where we can’t be
worlds that hold,
‘For you I will’
There are several ways to lose loved ones to Domestic Violence.
I have written about one friend. This is another.
BEFORE YOU WALK OUT THE DOOR
On quivering legs,
she reaches the door,
frantic to escape,
the man that snores,
she stretches up,
trying so hard,
for those few inches more,
between her legs,
an aching bleeding sore,
she peeks over the windowsill,
to her picture perfect home,
desperate for that familiar,
yearning for the voice,
that will restore her world,
until the next time,
her mummy needs to go,
to the store
If you were me
Where would you be?
Would you be happy?
Or have a family?
If you were me
Would you sleep easily?
And not have bad dreams?
Or flinch every time the floorboards creak?
If you were me
would you trust people easily?
Would you make friends quickly?
Or would you treat everyone suspiciously?
If you were me,
Would you forgive me
For stealing your virginity
Before you turned fifteen?
If you were me
Would you hate me?
Would you run away constantly?
And would you refuse to call me mummy?
She sits and prays,
That her husband’s anger has died away,
She knows she is truly a disgrace,
For chatting to her ex-workmate,
When she should have been cleaning the house,
And keeping it in a perfect state,
So when he comes home from work today,
She will thank him through swollen lips on a black and blue face,
For pointing out the error of her ways,
So she will never make the same mistake.