Taking the road less travelled by

The road less travelled by

 

By Patrick Matbob

 

THE motorised por (outrigger-less canoe) powered around the river bend and Jonathan grimaced. The blast of the cool early dawn breeze hit him directly in the face. But he felt better now. The dark scenery on the riverbank and the smell of the river was familiar. Jonathan knew they were nearing home.

The road less travelled by

Suddenly, he felt a bout of anxiety and uncertainty at his decision to come home. He knew his father had sworn never to see him again. He had disowned him after learning about his criminal activities in Port Moresby which led to his imprisonment. He had brought shame upon his family and was not welcome in his father’s house.

It was his deep yearning to see his mother again after all those years that forced Jonathan to take the long trip from Port Moresby to his village on the Sepik river. He also felt he had an obligation to ‘show his face’ and try to re-establish ties with this family.

He knew his mother would cry, just like she did years ago when he left with relatives for Port Moresby. He was a little child then excited at the prospects of travelling to the big city to seek an education hundreds of kilometres away.

“We are home now, Jonathan.” His uncle’s voice snapped him back to reality. His uncle had cut the throttle and allowed the canoe to glide slowly towards the dark outlines of huts and coconut palm groves along the banks of the river.

The village had not awakened yet. Jonathan squinted hard at the shoreline. He could see the dark figure of someone standing in the water and bailing out one of the many pors moored there.

“Jonathan, there’s mother,” said uncle as he gently tilted the canoe towards the figure.

A sharp pang of emotion tore through Jonathan. He blinked away the sprouting tears and stared at the figure that was growing each second. He noticed that his mother had her hair plaited in a mass of dreadlocks that fell around her face. She was staring intently at the approaching canoe while her hands continued to bail out water.

Jonathan wondered about the dreadlocks. Why would his mother grow dreadlocks? Dreadlocks were a sign of mourning in his custom. Maybe one of his close relatives had died.

Then it hit him! His mother had been mourning him. If his father had disowned him, that meant he was no longer a family member. He had no rights as a son. According to custom he was as good as dead. The thought tore through his heart as tears began to roll down freely.

Then his uncle called out to his mother: “Good morning! We’ve brought you a present!”

Jonathan’s mother screamed. She dropped the shell, and splashed about in the water.

“My son, my son,” she repeated frantically. “My son is here.”

As the canoe gently glided up to her she jumped up and clung to Jonathan, almost knocking him overboard. They held each other tightly and wept uncontrollably.

For years she had stared down the waterway in the direction her son had taken as a little boy. She had always expected him to come back some day.

Even when his father had disowned him, she had always harboured a mother’s fervent hope that she would see him again one day.

The commotion had stirred the village awake now. Heads bent under the low roofs to find out what the noise was all about.

Jonathan’s uncle suggested that they go up to the house.

Mother’s voice rang through the village in a joyful chant as she helped her son ashore. She called for a lamp because it was still dark and she wanted to see her son’s face.

Jonathan’s father was awake now. When he learnt it was Jonathan, he became annoyed. But mother would hear none of it.

It was her moment, and she was determined that nobody would spoil it.

“My son was lost, he was dead, but he has come back today,” she chanted. “Nobody will deny me my son any more.”

At the house, the close relatives began to gather. They came to meet Jonathan and hear his story.

But first Jonathan took out his bag. He unpacked all the presents he had bought for his family and relatives and shared them out.

When the small talk and the breakfast of baked sago was over, Jonathan began his story.

He had left his village on the Sepik River as a young boy with his relatives. His parents sent him away to Port Moresby because they wanted him to get an education.

In Port Moresby, Jonathan lived at the suburbs of Gerehu and attended a community school there. However, life away from his family, and in the unfamiliar surroundings of the big city was too much for the young villager. He did not do well and dropped out of high school.

Not being able to go back to the village, he hung about the neighbourhood. It was not long before he became influenced by the street gangs and began getting involved in petty criminal activities. He soon became involved in bigger crimes.
However, his luck ran out one day and he and his mate were caught while carrying out their illegal activities. He soon found himself behind bars at the city’s Bomana prison.

While in jail he had time to think about his life. He realised how much he had missed his family at home in the Sepik and felt lonelier than ever. He regretted what he had done.

In jail he got to know a Catholic missionary who visited the prisoners each week.

One day, Jonathan gathered enough courage to ask the missionary if he could help him to go to school again. The missionary agreed if only Jonathan promised to study hard. Jonathan promised.

So Jonathan began studies by correspondence while still in prison. When he left jail, he continued at home with the help of the missionary. The missionary had become like a father to him, providing all the school things he needed and urging him on.

He threw everything into his studies and completed his high school grades with top marks. This allowed him to continue into matriculation studies, which he again did very well. His excellent grades earned him a place at the University. However, Jonathan decided he wanted to study agriculture. He wanted to return home eventually with a skill that he could use in the village. He was accepted at Vudal Agricultural College and after two years graduated at the top of the class with a diploma in agriculture. It was a wonderful achievement and he and his friends were proud about it. However, there were others who thought he could do better.

The PNG government noted his achievement and offered him a scholarship to study agriculture at Massey University in New Zealand.

Jonathan could not believe his luck. When the initial celebrations were over, his missionary friend took him aside. He told him that soon he would be travelling far away from home for studies. He also reminded him that he had not seen his family for a long time. It was time he returned home to Sepik River to visit his family and ‘show his face’. He had an obligation to put things right before embarking on the next stage of his life.

Jonathan needed no further urging. He packed his bag and began the long journey home to his father’s house.

(PS: Jonathan graduated with a degree in agriculture at Massey University and is now a senior officer with the Government of PNG.)