A builder’s story in city

IT was a fine Saturday evening, I was at Kutubu Block located at a dead end of Giburi Street in Morata 1, National Capital District.
I have heard of the crime-infested Morata settlement but I have never visited it.
It was my first time there.
It was perhaps outrageous for me because I have heard stories about people from the Highlands, including some from my Foi tribe in Kutubu, residing in Morata and how they took part in building Port Moresby to where it is today.
I met a group of men telling stories and sitting on the floor of a grand stand.
The grand stand was raised using sand and cement packed into old vehicle tyres.
Among the group was a weary looking old man probably in his 70s.
He was the most happiest and the one who did most of the talking.
He was most likely an elder in the Kutubu community at Morata and for anyone like him, he always shared his life experiences happily with other men and boys.
I approached the group of men.
I was warmly welcomed and I sat at a corner of the grand stand.
As the men continued telling stories, I figured something extraordinary about their stories.
It was the experience of the weary-looking old man.
His life started as an orphan in Irakai village in Kutubu around the mid-1940s.
He followed his mother from village to village just to stay and survive with relatives.
During those days, he kept scavenging the huge tropical jungles for food and games with other boys.
It was enjoyable and full of fun but the hunger kept coming as the kid kept growing.
One day, his mother got married to a man from a nearby village.
In a patrilineal society such as Kutubu, the young man had the motivation to return to his father’s land but that was almost impossible for someone who was never raised under a fatherly figure.
Not knowing what else to do, he followed a group of young men heading down south to the Kikori Delta in Gulf.
He traversed the rugged terrain and huge waterways with the fantasy of meeting new people and seeing new places. At that time, Kikori was bustling as a training camp for Luluais and a transit point for plantation labourers from Southern Highlands, including Hela.
While staying in Kikori, he saw a boat sailing into the huge delta just before dusk.
On the next morning, he saw young men getting onto the boat.
Some of the men were his best buddies.
He couldn’t go back to Kutubu up in the blue misty mountains because he hated being an orphan who slept without being well fed.
With a strong sense of faith that everything would be alright and with a determination to succeed in the new life in Central, the boy joined his buddies on the boat.
He set sail until it reached the Caution Bay where tractors picked up the boys and transported them to Doa.
Doa was a bustling rubber plantation where labourers had to work hard under strict supervision before they can get paid and be fed.
Life in the plantation instilled some very good values in the young man, something the whites were happy to utilise.
As time passed in the plantation, there was a riot among the labourers and the plantation had to shut down.
This forced the orphan and his friends to move to Port Moresby in the 1960s.
They immediately secured jobs and settled at 6-Mile near a huge timber yard.
He joined the warehouse team and because he was tall, he started as a spotter on a crane.
The crane operator was very pleased with the young man and he began to train him to operate the machinery.
The boy didn’t know how to read and write but he followed the instructions of the operator and after observations, he began operating the machinery with ease in less than a year.
During the following year, his company sponsored him to take up crane operator training at Kilakila for six months.
Upon returning with the necessary permits, the man embarked on some of the very critical infrastructure projects in Port Moresby which he knew little would be the structural foundation of a new country.
His first project engagement was the construction of the overhead bridge and the bus stop sheds at Boroko.
He was involved in the construction of the adjacent buildings including the Ori Lavi Haus and Tabari Haus.
Other important projects he was involved in were the construction of the Jackson International Airport tarmac and the Parliament Haus.
While working on these projects, he married a woman from inland Rigo in Central and settled at 6-Mile before moving to Morata 1.
After Independence in the 1975, he joined various construction firms including Lae Builders and Fletcher Morobe and continued building infrastructure in Port Moresby.
He was employed by Fletcher Morobe until 2019 when he resigned.
He is now living in Kutubu Block at Morata 1 in the nation’s capital.
He has six children and eight grandchildren.
He smiled and said: “It’s not through education but through faith and determination”.
He said he had enjoyed his life as a crane operator.
He is no ordinary man.
He is a builder, husband, a father and grandfather.
After all the years of hard work, he is waiting to withdraw his superannuation savings, which he promised to enjoy with his children and grandchildren.

Mike Haro