My mother’s belly beckons- Part 3

By BARBARA MASIKE LIRI
AS the seconds ticked away, the sun overhead was also moving slightly to the west. We knew we had to move on and said our goodbyes to the family. Our boat trip to Yimas 1 village took us almost an hour. We had to go there to pay our respect to our first born brother Thomas, whose grave was at the village.
According to the story from our mother, my father had to go on a patrol to Green River but, as he did not want to leave my mother and the young child behind, he took them along with him. Unfortunately, young Thomas succumbed to malaria and died while they were there.
There are no records of his birth date but from the stories we are told, we estimate this would have been around 1953. You see, our mother had never been to school so she could not read nor write. But as a wife of an early colonial policeman, she learnt to count and sew as well be a good mother.
At Yimas 1 we walked up a small hill at the back of the village and were showed the bushy growth which was the resting place of my brother Thomas.
As a three year old back in 1970, my memories are so faint, but my sister was 10 then and holds vivid memories of attending church in a chapel that once stood on this small hill. From atop there, one can get a perfect view of the hills of neighbouring Enga and the Yimas lakes.
Later that evening, a small group of family members accompanied us to the lodge where we had something to eat together, and said our goodnights for that day.
The next day we would be returning to Port Moresby, where my journey had started and Anna would go on to Lae, where she now lives.
Before we called it a night, we gave thanks again to Him who holds our lives in His hands, and were soon fast asleep.
The next morning, we were up early. Our family was there again to accompany us to the airstrip. We packed our things, leaving behind the little clothing items we had brought with us. We wished we could have brought a lot more as we realized the many needs for basic things such as clothing, including services such as health and education.
We asked about education opportunities for the children, and were told that there was a primary school there, the Amboin primary school, but the teacher had left to go to Wewak because of the remoteness of the place. The Amboin health centre, rebuilt with support from Australian aid, had no health workers working there, leaving the people without a very important basic service.
A good number of family members had all come down to see us off, and as the seconds ticked away, our tear bags were also filling up fast. Our hearts were swelling with emotions of sadness and happiness, of leaving behind this wonderful people and place that we had just come to know and love.
Soon we could hear the sound of the one engine aircraft in the distance, and the tiny speck of silver circled overhead, over the wetlands.
It soon landed at one end of the grassy airstrip and made its way to a stop in front of the bush material terminal. A young female pilot from Mt Hagen and her boss and owner of Trans Niugini Tours, Bob Bates, jumped out of the cockpit.
After completing the formalities, it was time to leave. We embraced our relatives with hugs and tears and promises of returning. Our young female pilot started the engine and the aircraft slowly moved forward towards the grassy runway. A few minutes later we were accelerating down the runway and the mechanical bird lifted its nose towards the sky. We were over the Karawari, bound for Tari.
Some hours later were boarding an Air Niugini flight in Mt Hagen, bound for Port Moresby. To where my journey had begun. Of course my sister had to return to Lae the next day.
I still remember the day we left our family in Sepik. As the aircraft was lifting I glued my face to the glass window. I just had to take one last view of the wetlands below. Especially the Yimas lake.
I closed my eyes for a moment, my thoughts morphing into a sweet dream of water lilies on the Yimas lakes and blooming orchids hanging down from trees all overarching the lake. Until such a time when I return home to the Yimas, this dream will forever be locked in my heart, to be re-dreamed whenever my heart longs for this place, whenever my mother’s belly beckons again.