All of a sudden there was joyful singing from the birds, the rain had stopped. All the flowers were in full bloom, looking very attractive and exploding with sweet nectar waiting to be suckled. The butterflies flew gracefully from flower to flower while the lizards and Geckos scurried below the rotting foliage. A song was being sung, a song which once you witness who sings it, you will never forget. There on the Pink heliconia sat a little yellow bird singing to its heart’s content. A burst of sunshine broke thru the clouds and the joyful little bird sang louder. The last of the rain drops on the taro leaves were being sucked up by the warmth of the sun…… but it was all in vain. The quiet ocean roared once again and the wind howled, the leaves in the trees ruffled and swayed in protest. The butterflies disappeared as the lizards and Geckos scampered back to their hiding places and the little yellow bird stopped singing. The sunshine was once again overcome by the rain.
My New Guinea Experience – Lakotoromola
As soon as I hopped out of the car I was greeted with the stench of burning pig hair, a smell I m very much accustomed to and it was all the evidence I needed to know that this was a big Custom Wok (traditional ceremony) I was about to witness. This was my first Lakotoromola.
As I followed the crowd I noticed a huge long table which was built about 2-3 meters above the ground, puzzled I looked thru the eye piece of my camera and zoomed in on the table, there neatly scattered on top were many pieces of pork, I lost count after 50, there was a lot of pork up there!
I gently pushed pass the crowd of people protecting my camera as I passed, I walked over to where a group of children gathered playfully shoving each other and squealing “wee la bolo” I recognised the word bolo meaning pig in the Nakanai language and I too became curious to their excitement and quietly approached them, trying to get a glimpse of what was going on. There I discovered the young men and women kneeling down cutting up the pigs. Every now and then the butchers would scold at the young children as one or two of them would try and pinch small pieces of pork for the nearby fire. Something I fondly remember doing once or twice as a child.
In the middle of the yard were 5 huge piles which consisted of mainly garden food such as paragum (wild taro ) vudu ( bananas) nokos ( oil palm broom) sugar cane , Kaukau (Sweet potatoes) and much more produce which were concealed in baskets woven out of coconut fronds. These piles were called la Lolos. La Lolos were sort of offerings which the families of those being initiated were putting up and were to be claimed either by another family who has a first born who is yet to be initiated or given to a family as pay back of a pile they have claimed in the past as what they call “bekim dinau” to return the gesture.
I walked around scanning the crowd looking for the familiar sign of people grouping, there I knew something interesting was taking place. I watched in admiration as mothers dressed their children for the ceremony, day dreaming of when I too one day will be in their place, proudly presenting my daughter or son to the clan to claim their birth rights. Tears swelled up as I watched a grandmother herself teary eyed, place a bird of paradise headdress on her Bubus( grandchild’s) head.
My attention was soon drawn to the beat of the drums and singing of the lapuns (Elderly). There I found them all circling around 3 of the first born to be initiated. They were singing songs I didn’t understand but I knew that it had strong meaning, as I noticed some of the young men who don’t normally show emotion, because it is seen as a sign of weakness, bow their heads in respect. The singing got louder and louder as everyone joined in and walked with the first born towards the “tumbuan”. One of the first born named Bobby was not only being initiated into the Lakotoromola but also the Tumbuan. Just about every clan in Papua New Guinea has a tumbuan which is a part of the secret male society. Bobby is now seen as a member of that, he can take part in other tradition ceremony’s involving the tumbuan which in the Nakanai Custom happens during the Galip (Edible Nut native to PNG) Season.
As we approached the tumbuan I could feel the importance of the whole ceremony. An old man grabbed hold of my arm and lead me to a bench made out of bamboo “kalap go antap” get up he told me “ lukim na kisim piksa blo dispel, u nonap lukim wanpla bigpla custom olsem ken” witness and take photos of this because you will not see another custom as big as this again. I didn’t hesitate all thoughts about the stability of the bamboo bench which looked like it had seen much better days was erased from my mind, everyone’s so drawn in by the singing, I doubt if I fell they would notice anyway i thought to myself.
Bobby was lead up to the tumbuan and placed inside. The men lifted it of the ground as the crowd cheered and sang even louder. The women hurled clothes, lollies and coins in to the air. I didn’t dare lift my camera for a shot, vividly imagining the coins as pieces of shrapnel flying towards my lense as children scurried down near my feet looking for lollies. I followed behind the crowd as they sang, laughed and cheered. I was passed a 500ml plastic coke bottle, “diring” Drink, I didn’t hesitate taking 2 gulps before the sensation hit me….Woahh that was some strong “matuka” home brew.
The crowd finally made its way towards the La Lolos and the first born’s were placed on their rightful piles. There they stood in the afternoon sun awaiting an elder named Maki to confirm who would claim their Lalolos, while the women threw their endless supplies of shrapnel, lollies and clothes in to the interested crowd. At one stage a bra landed on an old man who all of a sudden must have got a burst of energy and flung it frantically back, as the crowd roared with laughter.
As I stood back and observed the firstborns I wondered if the older ones understood the true meaning of the Lakotoromola. Which back in the time of the Tumbunas (ancestors) it was only done when a girl came of age and when a boy was considered a man, there was probably a reason for that, maybe they knew that they were old enough to remember and pass on the custom to the next generation. As of that day those first born’s initiated can cut their hair and bilas (dress up) as they like, they are allowed to travel to distant places and take part in the garamut and traditional singsing groups , if they were to do so before the Lakotoromola a pig would have been killed and a feast put on for the village.
I wondered how much Traditions and customs have changed since the time of the tumbuna and at that moment I realised and feared even more how much it will change in the future. I hope that these young ones remember and continue this Custom, as one day they will have to pass it on to their children and grand children.
Lakotoromola
A Latokoromola is a traditional ceremony done by the Nakanai People of West New Britain. This ceremony is a celebration of the first born child. The Latokoromota enables the first born child to take part in the “garamut” and traditional sing sing group. This first born child is now allowed to cut his/her hair, can travel to faraway places, the young girls are now allowed to finally bilas(dress up), have tattoos and piercings and style their hair whichever way they please. If the first born was to do so before the Latokoromola than a pig would have to be killed and a feast put on for the village.
Sophia Isu 19/15/16/9/1 – 9/19/22
Mama Baharu & Mama Maus
Kwalakesi Village, W.N.B.P
Kurkuru (native dove) Clan
In every village in PNG there are women like sisters Baharu & Maus . These women possess a special Skill which has been passed down from generation to generation. This skill has been perfected to secure the continuality of the clan, their bloodline, along with their culture, tradition and language, by safely delivering into the world their next generation.
Fondly nicknamed Mama Baharu, meaning “widow” Baharu has delivered many babies including whole families from mother to children to grand children with the help of her younger sister Maus.
Together they follow a special ritual which was taught to them by their mother, a little song they quietly sing to the baby to coax her out and insure a safe delivery.
“Bureki mapatili, e baby mapatili” she sings while gently pressing the expectant mother’s belly. “Baby turn your head upside down like a (sleeping) flying fox”
“Ekibelube lamatala baby, lube” Baby come first release the rope (umbilical cord) and come first.
While tenderly patting the pregnant woman’s back she sings the last verse “Ekoko Saraka baby,Saraka” “be like a slippery eel and slide baby”
This is the same song that was sung to both sisters as babies waiting to be born into this world. A song sung long ago by their tumbunas (ancestors) that will continue to be taught and sung to the next generations.

Emmanuella Matige ~A young mothers first love~
Sophia Isu 19/15/16/9/1 – 9/19/22

For 8 years I didn’t know her name, i always referred to her as “mama”
One day she saw me walk pass camera in hand, she called me over and asked me quietly to take a Piksa (Photograph) of her for her bubus (grandchildren). As I looked thru the eye piece I realized how old she was, all the wrinkles magnified by the camera lens. There were tattoos on her skin which to the naked eye looked like a child had scribbled all over. Many years ago these tattoos would have stood out against her brown skin, how they have faded away with time.
There were numbers tattooed on her arm which i later worked out stood for the order of letters in the English alphabet, 19/15/16/9/19/19/21 spelt Sophia Isu. An interesting Japanese/Chinese symbol caught my eye; my mind started racing, trying to figure out how on earth she could have been branded with such a symbol, was it from world war 2 which she spoke fondly of, struggling at times to remember her experience, maybe a love affair during that time? I thought out loud. She then burst into laughter her eyes wet with tears as she told me of how she used to work for a half caste china man named Morris Kimwa Ling, who used to own a trade store. Working in that trade store one day she came across the symbol on a tin fish can, different and unique to her eyes she decided to brand herself with it.
I wonder how many more stories Sophia has of the old days or “taim blo bipo” as she refered to it. Sadly tho most of those memories just like her tattoos, will fade away in time.















































