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The Siraga experience
Siraga, so close, yet so far from the city's comforts, writes JACK METTA

From the pronunciation of the locals, the place sounds like Siraka though from the utterances of others, Siraga could also be acceptable.
This explanation is deduced from the use of the letters 'K' and 'G' by many in our midst, a classic example being Gabagaba, known in my earliest days as Kapakapa.
I have since adapted Gabagaba as the correct version so in like fashion, Siraga it is for the purpose of this article.
Be that as it may, for those not familiar with Siraga, the name could automatically allude to the place at Six Mile in Port Moresby and promptly exhort the response: "You mean Saraga?"
There is a big difference though not as big if you consider that Saraga is within the perimeters of the Port Moresby City whilst the other is just outside the perimeters. In fact, Siraga is only about 10kms west of Port Moresby's largest suburb of Gerehu.
It's less than an hour's drive from the city limits but you'd think the services that abound in the city could just stretch at least for some 10kms to Siraga but that is sadly not the case.
Siraga is swampland, the first sight that greets many-a-visitor who looks out the window as their jet descends from the skies to land at Jackson Airport.
What you see is a vast tract of grassland, dotted with gum trees and rain trees and interspersed with lakes of various shape and sizes.
This is Siraga's environment --- the heartland of a group of people far from home.
The swampland is the very livelihood of the thousands inhabitants of Siraga for it provides food and income for them.
The National Weekender visited last Sunday and the scene was reminiscent of home --- the hovels built on stilts exuding the familiar and yet unique and exclusive craftsmanship of the carpenters; the rest houses or open platforms (patapatas) adding the homely touch of welcome and comfort on a hot day; the faces of the locals strangely familiar and the humdrum of humanity and especially the excited children pleasantly recognisable and decipherable.
For the language was clearly Toaripi and the people all from Toaripi and Moripi origins in the Gulf province.
In the background, the gentle northeasterly part the tall pitpit and kunai grass to reveal the rippling dark waters of the nearby ponds and lakes; egrets, cranes, wild ducks and other birdlife fighting for the morsels the dark waters provide, and the rolling blades of kunai waving and stretching towards the rolling tree-capped hills beyond.
The elevated grounds upon which many built their houses are islands in the swamplands and quite recognisable during the dry season.
"You could say we are blessed in one way, but there are limits to blessings," Tom Lape, Siraga's Ward 18 councillor on the Kairuku-Hiri local level government for 18 years, said.
The swamps provide them with fish, wallabies, wild pigs, and deer and water for their bountiful gardens and from these, they sustain themselves and earn an income from the city markets.
"We are so close to the city, the obvious thing to do is include us in the Moresby Northeast electorate but no, some electoral boundary official, in his wisdom, decided that we should be part of Kairuku-Hiri."
And that perhaps is the stumbling block to Siraga getting some basic government services such as health and education infrastructure established in the village.
Ironic it is that in an environment full of water, clean water for human consumption is Siraga's major setback.
"Countless requests to the powers that be had fallen on deaf years and we continue to struggle with this burden," Mr Lape, a retired PNG Defence Force warrant officer explained.
He said drinking water is purchased for between K1 and K1.50 a container from Gerehu residents and carted on shoulders back to Siraga.
He points to his children and heaves a sigh.
"All the children of this village lack education because there is no such service in this village," he said.
Indeed, for a village just kilometers from the city boundaries, there is no school, no aid post and no electricity.
There is but one road that could be termed a hunting track used by Baruni and Tatana landowners.
This main entrance of this 'hunting track' has now been fenced off by the local landowners and entry is strictly monitored.
Landowner Gomara Maraga complained that Saraga was breeding grounds for criminals and that the settlers were illegally squatting on their land.
Long time Siraga resident Tau Liri thinks differently. "I've been here for 46 years and I can tell you our young people are too busy trying to survive than resort to trouble," he contended.
"We are too busy either hunting, fishing, gardening or marketing to worry about anything else. The trouble makers are from the city and the fact that they make their getaway through the bushes behind Gerehu Stage Seven suggests that it is our boys who are trouble-makers.
"Many of us are here today because of our friendship with the local Baruni and Tatana people, friendship forged through the Hiri trade expeditions of years gone by," Liri explained.
"I have grown up here, my children have grown up here, I would not want to go and sour the friendship that was forged by our grandfathers," Liri surmised.
There are some positive changes though, like a drop of water in an ocean.
A communal United Church had risen, Siraga had produced its first reverend in John Miro and a self-supporting rugby touch competition that had been in existence for the last 10 years, are indications of a society that exists on its own merit.
Whether this situation would continue for the next few generations remains to be seen but if a worthy politician and one who has his or her origins in the Gulf province, should see the potential of 1,000 votes figuring in a limited preferential voting system in the coming election, perhaps, this would be the appropriate time to act.
For now, Lape, Tau, Geno Posu and their children would have to make do with what they've got and they've got plenty.
As in the Wise Counsellor's words: "If you want the future different from the present, study the past..."