Recalling horrors of July 17

HISTORY

A personal reflection on the Aitape disaster

By YVONNE KAMBIBEL
EVEN after so many years have gone since it all happened, all these horrible memories come back to me at once whenever I hear the date July 17, 1998.
This date is one that I can never erase from memory for as long as I live. The stories, the pictures, the videos all give me nightmares.
I tried telling this story before through essay projects in English classes but never had I had the courage to tell exactly how it all happened as my memory served all these years. It took me almost 23 years to finally muster the courage to share my story about the disaster that had gone down in the history of this country as one of the worst.
Those who have experienced it have so many stories to tell about this date based on their own personal experiences, but this…this is my version of the story on that day that the tsunami tidal wave heat the shores of Aitape in the West Sepik Province of Papua New Guinea and had claimed a generation.
Many may have forgotten about it and many may have moved on from it but for some of us, the memories linger on and for those that have lost their loved ones in this disaster, I believe to them, this date cuts through their hearts like a sword that enters an existing wound that nothing could heal.

A Friday
July 17, 1998 was a Friday. It started like any other ordinary Friday where the little township of Aitape was always packed with people from neighbouring villages. Apart from those along the highway villages of Paop, Yakamul and Lemieng and those from the other side of the town starting from Malol, Yakoi and the lagoons, Warapu and Sisano have also come to town.
It was the usual last day of the week when many rush into town to do last-minute banking, shopping and other businesses before the weekend.
The sun sets in the west so for these folks, hurrying home on Friday afternoons was not something they were used to because in that part of the country, the sun sets after 7pm. That typical Friday was the busiest and nosiest day of that week.
I was seven years old when my family moved to Aitape from Nuku, another district centre in West Sepik. My father was a district court magistrate and my mother was a primary school teacher. We had only been in Aitape for several months when Aitape was struck by the tidal waves. In those days, I was in Grade 1. I didn’t have any clue what a disaster or tidal wave or tsunami was.
That day when the disaster struck, my father travelled to Wewak for some commitment while my mother and three sisters at the time remained in Aitape.
Mother had just gotten discharged from the Raihu Rural hospital and was still recovering from giving birth to my fourth-born sister who was just an infant at the time.
We were preparing dinner when suddenly out of the blue, the atmosphere felt strange. Trees stopped swaying because the winds stopped blowing while the birds stopped singing in the trees. The skies became extraordinarily dark and there were no sign of birds flying in the sky.
Nature in its own way was trying to communicate to us that something extremely disastrous was about to happen that would change our lives forever. Little did we know that the waves had already struck villages on the other side of the lagoon and were approaching the town to claim even more lives.

Ominous change in tides
Days before the disaster struck, my mother had noticed that there were unusual changes in the tides. During low tide, it became so dry that it was almost possible to swim across to neighboring Ali and Tumeleo Islands situated just opposite the town and accessible by less than an hour’s boat ride from the mainland.
She warned my sisters and I not to go swimming or fishing, some of our favorite activities in those days with the advantage of living close to the beach.
“Please listen to me and listen carefully,” she warned.
“Until the tides have returned to normalcy, I don’t want you girls to go to the beach, okay? Just stay in the house until I tell you that it’s safe for you to go back to the beach.” And we obeyed.
Her instincts kept reminding her that the sudden changes in the tides would lead to something bad, and she was right. The giant waves were about to hit the shores of Aitape, almost taking all our lives while robbing our father of his young family.
After the tsunami had hit, claimed lives and destroyed the villages of Warapu, Sisano and Malol, some of the waves struck parts of Vanimo and also parts of Wewak but did not caused as much damage like had caused the people of Aitape.
But how could we have known? We continued with our normal activities until we felt an earthquake which lasted for a few minutes. Then, there was this unique sound like nothing we’ve ever heard before. It was clear, yet filled with dark emotions and sounded almost as if a giant creature was approaching us to swallow us alive.
Even to this date, I can still recall that sound which I call ‘the sound of fear and death’. At that very moment, my mother told us to keep quiet so she could figure out where that strange sound was coming from.
We stopped and realised instantly that it was coming from the sea. Without second thoughts, she told my elder sister “Hurry up. Get the keys and open the gate, the tidal waves are coming!”
By then we had already panicked but my elder sister was tough and being the eldest child with dad not around, she had to help mum get us out of the premises to safety.
By the time we had entered the streets, everyone had lost all hope as the only way of reaching higher ground though a bridge on the other side of the town had already been covered by high seas. Their only hope was to say their final prayers and prepare for their deaths.
It was painful, horrible and terrifying. A feeling that I can never forget. It was like seeing my mum and sisters for the very last time and what would happen next was unpredictable.
Second, mighty earthquake
The second earthquake was the mightiest one. It was almost impossible to see anything or anyone around us as it seemed like we were all going around in circles. That earthquake lasted longer than the first one and was stronger too causing power poles to collapse and suddenly all the lights went out.
We stood in the dark almost not worrying about tomorrow but sending our last thoughts to our dad who was already halfway through his trip back to Aitape. It was one of the most emotional moments of our lives that brings tears to our eyes every time we reflect back to that day.
My father was approaching the town and was shocked to see houses and household items and even people floating on the road. As soon as he was told that a tsunami has hit, he sped to our house almost in tears not knowing if were still alive or not. When he finally found us, it was an emotional reunion. We hugged him never wanting to let go of each other.

Help arrives
Hours later, it was already day break when we learnt that so much destruction had happened in the night and so many lives have been lost. My father had to transport bodies and wounded people to Raihu Hospital while we watched from the verandah of our house half crying in fear that the waves could hit again.
We watched as military planes on the field just in front of our house landed to deliver supplies or to treat the wounded people. I was young and the experience was a disturbing one, not only for me but for my whole family. We later heard on the news that the whole country was donating food and other items to support families who have been affected by the tsunami.
That day changed our lives forever. We couldn’t eat, sleep or even dream. The experience had haunted us for years. We go to sleep just to wake up in the middle of the night fearing that the waves could hit at any time and claim our lives. We didn’t want to live in Aitape anymore so my father was transferred to Maprik where my sisters and I completed our schooling year of 1998 there.
I later learnt in higher grades what a tsunami was and the hypothesis behind the Aitape tsunami.
When my father was transferred back to Aitape in 2000, so much had changed. We had mixed emotions. Part of us was happy while part of us was afraid. The whole experience changed the way we see and feel about the sea.
Although my siblings and I had some of the best childhood memories prior to the disaster there in the little cozy town of Aitape, we saw it from a very different perspective whenever we come into contact with the sea. We know that it had claimed so many lives and had created so many bad memories for thousands of people there including ourselves.
The memory Aitape on July 17, 1988 will remain a part of us forever.