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Five letters of total confusion
Hearing the word
tambu uttered in almost all circles of life, young
Johnny is wrecking his brain to make the connections
THE five-letter Pidgin word is often
uttered in total innocence but for the totally innocent
bystander, it could be the start of a mind-boggling experience –
undue stress on his limited brainpower to reason.
He would be wrecking his brains during the time the parties are
engaged in conversation and Lord only knows what goes through
his mind as he tries to put together the pieces of the jigsaw
puzzle relating to tambu.
At the end of the day, he might be sitting in the car, mouth
agape, seeing through unseeing eyes and thoughts straying far
away, totally baffled by what he deems as something totally
illogical or something quite extraordinary. In other words, the
situation totally escapes the conclusion that he had drawn from
the explanation proffered by his parents the first time
curiosity got the better of him and he popped the question:
“Dad, what’s tambu mean?”
Jay, that legal eagle who flew by the house last weekend,
brought the subject up on the account of noticing the syndrome
on his 11-year-old son, after picking up Uncle Iari.
Now, Uncle Iari is a colourful man about town who makes no bones
about his interest in the members of the opposite sex, though he
is happily married with several children and grandchildren and
is considered a leader of sorts in his own right by his peers.
Perhaps, his ego trips to some fantasy land of his dreams may be
attributed to the latter.
The trouble with this guy was that he openly boasted about his
exploits and as if to confirm his inflated ego, all and sundry
were greeting him or seeing him off with the five-letter word.
So this kid is sitting there consuming all this and trying to
piece the puzzle together with that far away look in his eyes.
You could almost read John’s mind going to work:
Mum calls Uncle Iari tambu, so that means Uncle Iari is either
married to mum’s sister or mum is married to Uncle Iari’s
brother, which would be dad, right? That would explain the
‘uncle’ thing. But mum never looked like Uncle Iari anyway, and
they are not from the same province either. So dad can’t be
Uncle Iari’s brother. So there’s only one thing to draw from
this. Uncle Iari and dad are good friends and both must consider
each other as good and close as family. That is why they call
themselves bros.
He could go with that and as if in answer, a smile lights up his
innocent face and radiates through his eyes. His inner sense of
self-satisfaction at solving a niggling puzzle was palpable.
It was there all along. You would understand the greetings on
the face value if you know the person and his family and deduce
the connections through the marriage bonds. With others, you
would most likely jump to conclusions that since they come from
the same province, there would obviously be marriage connections
somewhere along the line; hence the use of the five-letter word
in greeting or parting would be part and parcel of that
connection.
Then the Papuans come into the picture and throws the spanner
into the works.
It happens at Brian Bell’s Family Store at Boroko when dad parks
the car to buy some smokes.
John senses a sudden urgency in the movement in front of him as
Uncle Iari hastens to roll down the dark glass of the car.
Having done that, he quickly pokes his bald head out to greet a
couple of pretty Papuan lasses. John notices a smile so broad
that the edges of Uncle Iari’s mouth would have split his ears
if they just happened to a fraction of a millimetre higher.
One of the lasses stops abruptly, casts a glance their his
direction and squeals tambu as instant recognition sets in.
The other girl turns and squeals in chorus and Uncle Iari was
out of the car in a flash and engaging the girls in conversation
as if they’d been at it for hours.
John notices that the girls’ behaviour had somewhat picked up a
little bit of flamboyancy since the squeals started and
attributed that to the ‘mightier-than-thou’ presence of Uncle
Iari.
John’s mind was agog. These girls were young enough to be Uncle
Iari’s daughters and they were calling him tambu. That meant
that Uncle Iari was either married into their family or them
into his. That would be the logical first impression. Secondly,
they could be Uncle Iari’s son’s girlfriends, hence the
reference to him as tambu. Thirdly, somewhere along the line,
there must have been some inter-marriages giving rise to the
adoption of the five-letter word. And last, but not the least,
Uncle Iari’s must certainly be the man he’s reputed to be – the
man of all seasons and ... women? And doesn’t that explain the
other greetings and sundry he was getting from practically all
quarters of the community?.
John’s simple mind could not cope with the inflow of information
spurred on by observation and hearing and he wondered what
person in his right mind would have gone and coined the
expression in the first place.
Maybe it started innocently enough and straight to the point but
as society got a bit more sophisticated, that was when the rot
set in.
Maybe it’s the ‘lingo we talk’; maybe it’s the way human beings
need to communicate in order to differentiate something or
someone from another.
He knows the laws are specific and his parent have told him as
such – having many wives is a no-no but it is still practised
under the traditional system today. That perhaps could explain
why so many other people have so many tambus. And friends have
become bros or sisters and their relatives are referred to as
tambus by the opposing parties and life goes on in extended
circles.
He is now trying to grasp the social implications of the
so-called expanded family circle that is often referred to as
‘wantok system’ and he’s really, really trying to come to terms
with tambu because somehow the word has swallowed uncles,
aunties, bubus, brothers and sisters.
The enigma of the tambu link is made all the more complex by the
greetings and adieus accorded to Uncle Iari by practically all
the ethnic groups that make up the melting pot of life in the
city.
Now, young Johnny is trying to live down his own conclusion that
Uncle Iari igat planti meri ...
And that perhaps should jolt our memory to recall the Wise
Counsellor’s words: “Human wisdom comes from reason; godly
wisdom comes from revelation ...”
 
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