Delivering Education Resources to Hela Province: My Travel Diary and Tributes

Homecoming: Whispers of the Coral Sea – Port Moresby, November 3-6, 2025

As the plane descended over the turquoise embrace of Fairfax Harbour on November 3rd, my heart swelled like the tide pulling at the shores of my birthplace. Port Moresby, the beating pulse of Papua New Guinea, welcomed me back not as a visitor, but as a child of the soil, though I may have been away in Australia for the last 15 years. This city, my national anchor, is where the ancient spirits of the Motu and Koitabu peoples first danced with the waves, long before Captain John Moresby charted its harbours in 1873. Here, in this gateway to the world, I spent four days wandering its bureaucratic offices, streets, markets, and overlooks, feeling the raw energy of a nation reborn.

From the bustling chaos of Boroko's markets to the serene heights of Varirata National Park, where mist-kissed ridges overlook the city like watchful ancestors, Port Moresby's history unfolds like a bilum bag woven with threads of resilience. Once a colonial outpost under Australian administration, it became a crucible during World War II, a prime target for Japanese forces aiming to sever Australia's lifeline. Independence in 1975 marked our dawn, transforming this coastal hub from a mere administrative center into the capital of a sovereign Papua New Guinea, now just 50 years young. We've come far: from grass-roofed villages to gleaming high-rises piercing the skyline, powered by our resource-rich veins of gold, copper, and gas. The economy pulses with a 3.8% GDP growth in recent years, fueled by non-resource sectors like agriculture and services, whispering promises of progress. Yet, it's the culture that truly captivates, a symphony of over 865 languages and tribes converging in this melting pot. On November 4th, I strolled through the National Museum and Art Gallery, where artifacts from the Highlands' singsings to the Sepik's spirit masks tell stories of rituals that bind life, death, and community. Christianity weaves through indigenous traditions, creating a vibrant tapestry seen in the Port Moresby Show's colourful parades or the everyday greetings of "gude" echoing in Tok Pisin. This city is alive with thriving energy, entrepreneurs hawking betel nut at roadside stalls, migrants from distant provinces chasing dreams in the shadows of modern offices. It's an entryway not just to our islands, but to the global stage, where our people fight for opportunities amid the hum of international flights and cargo ships.

A panoramic view of Port Moresby’s lush landscapes, where the city meets the wild But beneath this vibrancy lies the stark truth of our journey unfinished. Poverty shadows nearly 40% of our kin, evident in the makeshift settlements hugging the hillsides, where families eke out lives amid inequality's widening chasm. As I walked the streets on November 5th, I saw the contrasts: gleaming SUVs rolling past barefoot children, high inflation gnawing at wallets, and unemployment fueling unrest in a land of plenty. We've progressed; roads expanding, schools sprouting, but the middle-income gap swells, leaving many behind in the rush toward modernity. High crime and governance hurdles remind us: we have a long way to go, taming attitudes of division to become true custodians of our growth. From this proud place, where freedom rings in our democratic voices and democracy blooms like frangipani under the equatorial sun, I offer these whispers of hope, robust seeds drawn from the earth's wisdom, planted for equal bloom: Let us nurture the private sector's tender shoots, as the Asian Development Bank urges, by easing regulations and fostering small businesses that lift villages from the soil of subsistence. Imagine markets where women entrepreneurs, empowered through gender equality initiatives, weave economic nets strong enough to catch dreams for all. Pour resources into rural roads and electricity, bridging the highlands to the harbours, so opportunity flows like the Sepik River, quenching poverty's thirst. Invest in education's light, building schools that teach not just letters, but stewardship, taming wild attitudes into guardians of sustainable growth, as the UN's frameworks envision. And in governance's garden, root out corruption with transparent hands, promoting stability to prevent conflict's thorns from piercing our unity. On November 6th, as I gazed at the sunset painting Ela Beach in gold, I felt profound appreciation for this land of contrasts. Papua New Guinea, my eternal home, we are free, we are democratic, and in our shared growth lies the poetry of possibility. May we rise together, custodians of a brighter dawn.

The majestic waterfalls near Port Moresby symbolizing the flow of progress and natural beauty.

My Port Moresby in pictures