Favourite titles

Favourite titles
Whether it is "Redefining literary techniques and devices", "Justifying Papua New Guinea Literature", or "Translating the Bible into Anuki", these offer valuable reading for the paperless student of literature, and indeed the best sort of literary entertainment you can get out of Papua New Guinea. Check them out either on Soaba's Storyboard or The Anuki Country Press.

Tuesday, 9 August 2016


We all have heard of Emily, some of us fortunate enough to have met her in person. But for the whole lot of us in the entire world Emily is that existential name that carries with it a great sense of poetic beauty, in essence the sort of aesthetic pleasure that equates eternity. Most times she is known in our literary consciousness as Emily Dickinson, Emily Bronte, and so on and so forth. But never as close enough as our own Emily Kendi, favored and accredited by The Anuki Country Press as one of the finest of women poets writing in Papua New Guinea today.

We bring you now some chanced glimpses of the sort of poetry that our Emily writes.

A stolen moment

I chanced upon a special moment in nature

of one that gave my heart a gentle squeeze,

of one that warmed the cold inside,

A simple act of random kindness between a bird and a beautiful flower

and such a sight it was to behold

So sacred yet so enticing

Like a lover's retreat or a love affair

'Twas an expression of pure love

no need of words

no need of proof no harm no resistance

just nature in sync

As I watched the bird dip it's long beak into the flower,

Into the sweetness held within her depths,

I felt a love so tender settle over me

For there before me a life lesson

of love unconditional

Of love poised and untainted

given freely in grace and beauty

And as the rain fell sweetly daring not to disturb,

and I in a secret place watching

Grateful for the moment granted by nature,

to me a message ?

a sign?

Or just a chance moment?

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief

as the moment drew to an end

A thief called death 
In the blink of an eye

everything changes

unexpected and unsuspecting

left standing at a crossroad

nothing seems quite the same

tasteless, sleepless, lost

the sting of life called death

a thief that comes at night

takes all and leaves nothing

but numbness and grief

sorrow and pain

and it all happens

in just a blink of an eye

On doubt and despair
When feelings of doubt and despair become overwhelming -I think of you

When the lonliness of knowing what others don't numbs my mind and dulls my senses -I think of you

When today becomes a pain in the neck and the yearning for tomorrow becomes desperation -I think of you

When all I can do is let go, believe and move on despite the odds -I think of you

But are you thinking of me?

If only
If only death were a distance one could measure by days

I would travel its length just to be with you


If only the depths of hate and greed weren't deep as the ocean

I would not yearn to sail away to leave this life behind me


If only love was as rare as Halley's dance around the sun

I would never have taken your presence for granted


If only eternity would grant me just a single wish in time

I would no doubt ask to see your beautiful face again

If only.

The sun sets in the distance
sending her

rays sprawling thru the curtain of bamboo before me

birds of sorts burst forth with their sombre trills of evening song

ushering in a gentle calm settling over the atmosphere

i find myself alone and lost in a sea of thought

my eyes gazing vacantly into fire that blazes

the heat emanating from the fire rubs gently against my

skin in such a reassuring manner


I feel a gentle pull , a beckoning into a place

my mind finding pleasure of suspending itself in space

to wonder above and beyond any limitation

oh such pure delight

it is moments like this that I pine for in life

day by day, amidst the turmoil and labour

moments of pure delight

My soul withdraws
As I hear a call -

A call from the wild side of life

I hearken unafraid

And there all alone

I find a place of quiet rest

I can hear echoes of someone crying

In a soft breeze that blows across the water

It brings me upright

As a current passes from the earth into my bare feet

My body awakens to an unseen force

As everything around me becomes electrified

I start to grow numb

My mind tries to reason and make sense

But the power that holds me

Silences the voices that speak loudly in my head

I feel passion and boldness grow within

I hear chants to the beating of drums

I hear my name being called

I hear a command

And a call of duty

For I have come upon hallowed ground

The soil I stand upon

Fertile over time by blood and bone

It is at this point that I realize

I was led this way

I was made for this

I was meant to be

This is my place

A complaint

What is this place called earth?

this place of unrest and disorder ,

this place where morals look good from the outside yet

stink of rot from decay on the inside

and yet I'm expected to flourish while chained down by

unrealistic expectations


Does my right to live

mean nothing ?

Surrounded day and night by untouchable walls

that listen and know your secret thoughts

for nothing is hidden!

Those deep yearnings and stirring on the inside

to break away and

to free dreams taken captive

by unbelief and fear of the unknown

But still im expected to rule

spend my days in search of what was once paradise now


now ruined

now lying in waste

now destroyed

by greed and insatiable desire

A home united now stands divided

made indifferent by the drawing of lines that separate

friends and families

no peace to surpass hatred

no laughter to chase away sorrow

no future no hope

Take this burden from me now!


The crack of dawn

is life pushing thru' darkness

Where you and I are reborn and liberated from struggle

Where our fears drown in the songs of feathered creatures

Urging us toward the finish where rest awaits

The crack of dawn is a glimpse of something better

Something more stronger and vibrant

Where hope is fulfilled and a long awaited dream realised

Where a new day emerges with a reason to keep moving on

ETKENDI 08.08.16



Friday, 15 January 2016


From the diary of an old villager to town:

I really can't unerstand this...

I mean people from the West and more particularly the Caucasian stock wanting to visit and get the feel of the wildest most primitive and uncivilized places on earth like Papua New Guinea.

What are they really looking for?
Somewhere along the line something goes wrong. There are reports of lost souls unable to find their way back to civilization and other much more horrible things that happen to them and which are not worth mentioning here but which do indeed go viral on the internet...

Now according to Dr. Freud, these would be those young people daring to know what really goes on in their bourgeois and upper middle class "selfie" lives...

We'd rather this same miserable and unhappy lot visited Tototo and surrounds... certainly the most fearsome and most unimaginably the worst of dracula kind of places on the planet... Then they would see what "wild and most primitive" means...
Averemi, simiri mau... and so sorry for those who stray to the other parts of the country where there is nothing but disappointment for the West over and over...

A country without any sense of government is no country at all. (Who said that? The old villager... but someone else did before that).

Like Thoreau: A government is best which governs not at all.

Which should not serve as an excuse to all the horrible things that happen to tourists visiting our country!


Saturday, 9 January 2016

From the diary of an old villager to town


Today, Saturday, 9th January 2016, the rest of the family returns to hear our report on how we have been keeping the family fort secure while everyone was away. Athena here in charge (or as my grandfather has christened me, Princess Athena Karogo Bogerara Gaesasara Soaba - never mind, it's a long name, don't worry about it).

My cousins Karina and Ian were extremely vigilant in keeping watch over the entirety of the fort.

My aunt Bibi ensured we had something in our stomachs before nightfall.
My mother took care of nutrition and what we were eating during the festive season.
Aunty Mimi took care of our finances in case we all starved.
My uncles KD and Tite tried their best in fitting every gadget in place so we could watch some colourful things flying in the air. And when we felt bored we settled down to Tinker Bell's adventures, only that uncle Tite would add flavour to all that jazz with more jazz pieces that tingle the senses (my grandfather's favorite tunes, that is... duhuh)....

By nightfall and at supper time my great grandmother read us some lovely stories from a worn out, dusty looking book we call the family Bible...

And yes indeed, 2015 has been, well, a pretty good year...