Binz-Mua, my little paradise

By PAUL MINGA
As far as a birth place is concerned, every person in this world whether of black or white was raised in a setting which they call home.
In my case my mum, without a helping hand of a trained midwife and having only dried banana leaves as genuine nappies, delivered me using her local knowledge.
With extra care she tenderly placed me on a comfortable bed of hand-woven pandanus leaf mat. The very place where mum was in agony of labour and brought me out into breathing oxygen for the first time I call home but its nickname is my little paradise.
According to stories from mum, I was born a malnourished infant unlike my other two brothers who were born normal and healthy. Members of my family suggested that I should be given away for adoption but mum didn’t like the idea and had kept me as she had a different love and heart for me.
Though I looked malnourished and not of very pleasant-looking, that didn’t bother mum although negative comments were made by my family members and relatives. She still loved and treasured me as I was valuable to her.
I grew up under her tender love and care at the very place my umbilical cord and other after birth waste had been buried. When growing up as a small boy. I would not venture out far and wide to other neighbouring villages.
That was because I had a deep love for my place of birth and upbringing. The crystal clear Binz River which runs near my home meant everything to me in offering me all the goodies and it became the place to be daily. Having a big river flowing near my home was something of an ideal for a small boy like me. It was exciting and full of fun as I loved to be as near as possible to it daily to enjoy all the fun of it and spending time along its bank or in the water for a swim or play with my peers and playmates.
As the river was located only a short distance away from our home, I loved to fetch water daily for my family use and would always be near the river. The strong bond of love I had for the Binz River and my home were because of their ideal setting that made me enjoy all my childhood hobbies within their vicinity and so I hated venturing out to other nearby places.
In enjoying all the fun and joy my home offered with its beautiful surroundings of forest, hills, the river and the fresh oxygen. I wouldn’t think of any other place as better than my little paradise Binz Mua.
Then one day dad decided for us to take a journey to pay a visit to a distant relative and her husband. Dad was not expecting anything silly from me that morning. So he told me, “Son we will go on a short journey for a visit.”
But he didn’t clarify the purpose of our visit and what time we were to return. He thought that I was only a kid so there was no need for him to explain in detail everything about the visit. As the place of our distant relative and her husband was about 20km away, he decided for us to set out early in the morning. We left behind mum, my two brothers and my beloved home sweet home.
Dad wasn’t aware that I would be as a nuisance to him at the home of the distant friends. As only a little boy, I wasn’t aware whose place we were to visit and for what reason. Besides, I wasn’t familiar with the name of the village we were heading to.
Now as a grown up I figured out the home of our distant relative as Ollogo village, one of the surrounding villages near Dona Primary School and home to the Dange tribe which used to be our former warring enemy.
Dad and I were on a journey to pay a visit to dad’s adopted daughter and her husband. The journey of about 20km finally ended and we reached the home of the couple at Ollogo. We were welcomed in the usual Jiwaka way of chanting and greeting by the couple as soon as we reached their home. Our arrival was at around midday or 1pm.
Trips to distant friends and relatives in those early times of our forefathers and fathers had been for several reasons like trade, seeking a loan or cash contribution, pigs, kina-shells, foodstuff, etc.
Sometimes a visit was to borrow traditional costumes and bird of paradise feathers for upcoming traditional ceremonies or to let distant friends or relative know of the exact date and venue of an upcoming event so he or she can prepare in advance to partake or contribute for the occasion.
Soon after we were greeted, conversation started straight away for dad and the couple. The remaining part of the day was taken up by their lengthy and deep conversation.
The conversation which I had not a slight clue about its subject was of no interest to me as a child. I wasn’t interested in their discussion nor would like to know what it was all about. As evening was drew near I panicked. I wondered if dad and I would be able to reach home before nightfall.
As I was so anxious to get back to my little paradise, I wanted dad to cut short the lengthy conversation but they continued on. Never in my life had I miss my sweet and beloved Binz Mua at it would be the worst thing if I miss it tonight, I thought to myself.
I was troubled as evening was approaching. I mumbled into dad’s ear and was causing disturbance for him to cut short the conversation, so we could head back for home before it fell dark.
I was not very happy to spend the night out at a foreign place that I don’t have any love for. I pleaded for an immediate departure but dad seemed to take no notice. I was angry and frustrated when all my pleading and demands were taken lightly by dad.
That made me furious and annoyed. I began to shed tears so as to attract dad’s attention but that too did not bother him one bit. In realising dad`s stubbornness and upon hearing the croaking and whistling sound of the night creatures and birds welcoming the nightfall, I was extremely upset that for the first time I would be missing my little paradise that very night.
In trying to show my anger and frustration, I disturbed dad by walking in front of him and trying to close his mouth and eyes with my tiny fingers and tapped his shoulder and created some other nuisance. I went to the extreme and had increased the volume of my crying to disturb the peace of the couple and their neighbour so that dad would do something about it.
As darkness closed in, the entire village and its surrounding mountains, hills and the other landscape were nowhere to be seen. I was really worried and upset, thinking how we were going to make the return journey; maybe with the aid of a lamp light or the flare from dried bamboos. I wished dad made up his mind and we returned in the night at all cost.
It was already into the night but I continued crying. The couple had prepared sugar cane, ripe bananas and kaukau to distract me but I rejected them outright. Even the delicious meal of rice and fish which usually considered as white man’s special meal in those days in the 70s and 80s did not stop my crying.
My prolonged crying made the couple felt uncomfortable and they walked out of the house. That instant dad was really mad and he threw me off his lap. But that dad and I were not going to return to my little beloved paradise for the night and how harshly was treating only worsened the situation. Dad lost all patience and he pulled me up from the floor and slapped my face several times. I realised that dad’s anger was at its boiling point and I had to behave or else all hell would let loose.
My misconduct and nuisance in the home of distant friends and in refusing all the nicely prepared food was not because I missed mum or my childhood playmates. No, I feared that I would be missing my little paradise that very night.
Binz-Mua is where my heart and soul are always.

• Freelancer Paul Minga has seven other similar anecdotes he intends to publish in a book titled My First Plane Trip & Other Stories.