The Inspiring Life of Retired Brigadier General Ted Diro: From Humble Beginnings to National Icon

Retired Brigadier General Ted Diro’s life story is a testament to perseverance, leadership, and patriotism. From his humble beginnings in Boku village, Rigo District, to becoming the first Papua New Guinean Commander of the Papua New Guinea Defence Force, his journey is one of extraordinary courage and resilience.

A Childhood Forged in Hardship

Born in Boku village, Rigo District, in 1943, Ted Diro’s early life was shaped by his surroundings. His village, nestled in the foothills of the Owen Stanley Range, was known as a “fighter’s village” due to frequent conflicts with neighbouring tribes. His father was a policeman from Boku Inland, while his mother was from Aroma. The village’s strategic location made it the first point of contact when trouble arose from the west or north.

Growing up in such an environment instilled in Diro a strong sense of duty and responsibility. "Village norms and village life led me into more areas of defence and security. And that was one of the fundamental interests I had in joining the army," he recalled.

However, education was a privilege that was hard to come by in his inland village. His quest for learning led him to Port Moresby, where he faced rejection from several schools due to his lack of formal education. "I searched around everywhere and I couldn't find any. They said he doesn't speak English," Diro recounted. Despite these setbacks, his determination remained strong.

A Chance Encounter and Educational Breakthrough

His persistence eventually caught the attention of Mrs. Willis, the headmistress at Kilakila Area School. "She looked out the window and saw me watering her garden, flower garden, early in the morning," he remembered. Mrs. Willis’s kindness was instrumental in his educational journey. "She said, I don't care whether he had any schooling or not, I'm going to take him on board," Diro said, his voice filled with gratitude.

Under her guidance, Diro excelled academically. However, finding accommodation and support was an ongoing challenge. He eventually earned a place at Sogeri High School after passing the entrance examinations despite not completing grade six. His time at Sogeri was transformative, exposing him to a higher standard of education and discipline.

Recognising his academic potential, Diro earned a scholarship to attend Slade School in Warwick, Queensland, Australia. This was a major milestone, where he continued his studies up to the senior level. "I was fortunate to receive the scholarship. It was my ticket to a better education and a chance to build a future," he reflected.

The Military Calling

While still in school, the political landscape of Papua New Guinea was rapidly evolving, with independence on the horizon. The Australian government was preparing for the nation’s independence, and Diro’s potential did not go unnoticed. He was selected to attend the prestigious Officer Cadet School at Portsea, Victoria, Australia, in 1963-1964 where he underwent rigorous training in infantry tactics, parachuting, special forces, and demolitions.

"The only military knowledge I had was at school cadets. I had no military knowledge," he admitted. "But to go from school cadets to military college was very, very difficult." Despite the challenges, he excelled in his training and became one of the first Papua New Guineans to be commissioned as an officer in the Australian Army.

Breaking Barriers and Rising Through the Ranks

Ted Diro went on to became the first Papua New Guinean to be promoted to Major in the Royal Pacific Islands Regiment. "It was challenging indeed. Troops were used to taking commands and leadership from Australians," he explained. "But we proved ourselves to be worthy of the trust of our native troops."

His perseverance and dedication earned him respect among his peers, and he continued to rise through the ranks, eventually becoming the Commander of the Papua New Guinea Defence Force. "There was nothing that Australian officers could do that we couldn't do," Diro emphasised.

Brigadier General Ted Diro

Click to watch the full video interview with Retired Brigadier General Ted Diro

Transforming the PNG Defence Force

As Commander, Brigadier General Diro embarked on a mission to build a capable and self-reliant Papua New Guinea Defence Force. His vision was ambitious, yet practical.

Prince Charles and the young Brigadier General Ted Diro at independence in 1975.

"I created the Engineering Battalion to serve the nation through civic action and infrastructure development," Diro explained. Under his leadership, the Engineering Battalion made significant contributions to constructing essential infrastructure in various provinces.

He also established the Air Transport Squadron, defying predictions that Papua New Guinea would not produce aircraft captains until 1992. "In two years, I produced the Air Transport Squadron, including training five Papua New Guinean pilots who were successful," he recalled proudly.

Furthermore, Diro strengthened maritime capabilities by acquiring heavy loading barges to improve the country’s maritime transport and logistics. His dedication to building a robust defence system also led to the establishment of the Officer Cadet School, which was localised from Portsea, Australia, to Lae, Papua New Guinea.

He is also remembered for his role in leading the PNGDF's elite Kumul Force to Vanuatu in 1980 to put down a rebellion on the island of Espiritu Santo. His decisive leadership during this mission further solidified his reputation as a respected and capable commander.

"All the things I wanted to do in the Defence Force, I created when I was there, and that was completed in 1982," he said. "I saw myself having worked myself out of the job and handed command to somebody else to carry on."

Reflections on the Defence Force Today

Although retired, Brigadier General Diro remains passionate about the nation’s defence. He believes the Defence Force must modernise and adapt to new threats, particularly in the areas of drone warfare and missile systems. "The PNG Defence Force is rank-heavy but lacks teeth. It has to train in drone warfare. It has to train with bigger ocean-going facilities," he said.

He also stressed the need for better funding. "If our defence expenditure is hanging around this 0.3 or 0.4% of the GNP, then our politics are not interested in expanding the defence. The budget must increase to the normal budgetary allocation, which is about 4% of the GNP," he stated.

A Legacy of Leadership and Service

Brigadier General Tedi Diro’s life is a shining example of how perseverance and dedication can overcome adversity. From a young boy struggling to find education to a military leader shaping a nation’s destiny, his story is a source of inspiration for all Papua New Guineans.

Today, his legacy lives on as a reminder of what it takes to serve one’s country with honour, vision, and unwavering commitment.

PNG at 50: The 1980 Vanuatu Rebellion and Sir Julius Chan’s Bold Call

A Nation’s Moment to Lead

In the heart of the Pacific, in the year 1980, Papua New Guinea stood at a crossroads. A young nation, barely five years into its independence, was suddenly thrust onto the international stage—not through diplomacy, but through military intervention. It was an unexpected test of courage, leadership, and strategic foresight. At the centre of this historic moment stood two men: Prime Minister Sir Julius Chan and Brigadier General Ted Diro, the then-Commander of the PNG Defence Force (PNGDF).

The crisis erupted in the newly independent Republic of Vanuatu, where Jimmy Stevens, a local leader in Santo, declared a rebellion, backed by foreign influences, including French settlers and mercenaries. As chaos loomed, the Vanuatu government turned to its Pacific neighbours for help. Australia and New Zealand hesitated, but one leader did not—Sir Julius Chan.

A Decisive Order

Sir Julius, known for his sharp political instincts and unwavering resolve, made a bold decision. Against all odds, he ordered PNG troops into action. It was a defining moment—not only for his leadership but for the young PNGDF, which had never before engaged in an overseas mission.

"Julius Chan gave us an order and instructions not to bring any dead bodies back to Jackson's airport because that would end his political career," recalled Brigadier General Ted Diro. "So we had to be precise, we had to be disciplined, and we had to make sure that every move we made was calculated."

Diro and his men took the challenge head-on. The mission required more than brute force—it needed intelligence, strategy, and an unbreakable will. Every night, they trained for night combat, adopting Israeli military doctrines where officers led from the front. "Officers had to go first. That was the rule," said Diro. "It was not a position for the fainthearted. You led with your body and soul."

Retired Brigadier General Ted Diro

Click to watch the full video interview with Retired Brigadier General Ted Diro

Only the most capable marksmen were selected, those who could, as Diro put it, “shoot and kill a mutmut (bandicoot) in the dark.” This level of precision and readiness was key to the success of the operation.

The Battle for Santo

The PNGDF’s strategy was swift and surgical. Troops landed under the cover of darkness, taking key infrastructure points such as the airport, water supply, and electricity stations. When rebels—comprising French settlers and local militia—attacked under the assumption that the PNGDF would be unprepared, they were met with overwhelming force.

One night, as French rebels launched an assault, the well-trained PNGDF soldiers fought back ferociously. "It was according to our plan that the enemy was attacking at nighttime, and we dealt with them severely," Diro explained. "One of them was carrying a torch, and in panic, he didn’t switch it off. So they shot him in the arm. That was the moment they knew they had lost."

Within hours, the rebellion’s backbone was broken. Panic spread among the rebels, who likened the PNGDF to Muhammad Ali facing unprepared amateurs in the boxing ring. The next day, French planes evacuated their families, signaling the beginning of the end for the rebellion.

The final blow came when rebel leader Jimmy Stevens’ son, Eddie Stevens, attempted to charge a PNGDF roadblock but was neutralised by Lieutenant Don Bowie. "They put a banana truck blockage on the road," Diro recalled. "When Eddie Stevens tried to jump it, Don Bowie fired an anti-tank grenade into the vehicle. That was the end of it. That was when Jimmy Stevens gave up. He said, ‘I can’t beat Papua New Guinea.’"

The Triumph of Leadership and Unity

The success of the operation wasn’t just about military prowess; it was about leadership. Diro credited the victory to Sir Julius Chan’s unwavering support: “You put the nation on a war footing… Julius Chan did that. He stopped all the projects. He stopped all the funding of unnecessary diversionary projects and concentrated on the war.”

Sir Julius had seen the bigger picture—Vanuatu’s stability was essential for regional peace, and PNG’s intervention would establish it as a formidable force in the Pacific. His decision was a masterclass in bold leadership, proving that a small nation could stand tall among giants.

Even the logistics of the mission demonstrated PNG’s strategic planning. "We transported all our equipment under the pretense of going for the Independence Day celebrations," Diro said. "The guns were there in situ, ready for us to pick up if needed. We were prepared for every scenario."

A Legacy of Strength

Forty-four years later, the 1980 Vanuatu mission remains one of PNG’s proudest military moments. It showcased the professionalism and effectiveness of the PNGDF, but more importantly, it underscored the vision and courage of Sir Julius Chan.

As Brigadier General Ted Diro reflected at Sir Julius’s recent passing, his voice was filled with emotion. “Sir Julius was a deep thinker and strategist. He didn’t pass over issues lightly. He was like a military man in his own right.”

Diro recalled the moment he was summoned to Kiribati, where Sir Julius was attending the South Pacific Conference. “I didn’t want to go at first. I thought, ‘I’m not his bag carrier.’ But then I realised—he wanted my advice. That’s when I knew something serious was happening. When he told me about Vanuatu, I knew we had to act.”

The intervention in Vanuatu was not just a military operation; it was a statement. It was proof that PNG was ready to defend peace and democracy in the Pacific. It was a moment when a young nation, led by an astute statesman and a fearless commander, stood up and made history.

Today, as PNG reflects on its 50 years of independence, this story remains a testament to what the country is capable of when leadership, courage, and conviction come together. It is a reminder that in moments of crisis, bold decisions define a nation’s legacy.

The Search for the Flying Dutchman: A Journey of Discovery and Remembrance

Hidden deep within the misty peaks of the Owen Stanley Range, where time stands still and history whispers through the trees, an extraordinary discovery unfolded in 2024. It was here, amid the untamed wilderness of the Ghost Mountain Trail, that Australian adventurer and writer Peter Gamgee, with the invaluable assistance of local villagers, rediscovered the wreckage of the long-lost Flying Dutchman—a Second World War C-47 transport plane that had vanished into the Papua New Guinea jungle on 10 November 1942.

 

This momentous occasion, which took place on 4 October 2024, was more than just a historical milestone. It was a tribute to the 23 men aboard that ill-fated flight, a solemn acknowledgement of their courage, and a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.

Peter Gamgee and local villages at the crash site of the Flying Dutchman

                                  Click to watch the full video interview with Peter Gamgee

 

A Flight Into History

 

The Flying Dutchman was en route from Port Moresby to Pongani when it encountered a sudden downdraft, causing it to clip trees before crashing into the mountainside. Six men perished instantly. Over the following days and weeks, the survivors endured unimaginable hardship, battling hunger, exhaustion, and the unforgiving jungle. Their story was immortalised in a makeshift diary, written on the plane’s lavatory door, now famously known as the Diary Door.

 

Each entry on the door paints a haunting picture of their struggle:

 

10 November 1942: "Crashed 1:30 pm Tues. 10 of Nov. – 17 men alive."

 

12 November 1942: "4 men started for help."

 

23 November 1942: "Last cigarette - even butts."

 

7 December 1942: "Year ago today the war started. Boy, we didn’t think of this then."

 

30 December 1942: "Johnnie died today."

 

1 January 1943: The final entry—a silent testimony to their fate.

 

These words, preserved in history, serve as an emotional reminder of their sacrifice and endurance. The Diary Door now rests in the National Museum of the United States Air Force, an eternal witness to their final days.

 

Rediscovery After 36 Years

 

The wreckage had been visited only twice before—in 1961 and 1988—before it faded from public knowledge. For decades, the location of the Flying Dutchman remained uncertain, a lost relic of wartime tragedy. That is, until Peter Gamgee set out on a mission fuelled by passion, history, and the dream of bringing new light to an old story.

 

Armed with archival research and local knowledge, Gamgee and a group of 26 villagers and guides embarked on a gruelling trek through the dense, rain-soaked mountains. The journey was arduous—steep inclines, chilling cold, and days of relentless searching. But then, on 4 October, their perseverance paid off. Pieces of the aircraft emerged from the jungle, leading them to the wreck itself.

 

“I wasn’t sure until I saw it with my own eyes,” Gamgee recalls. “But when I did, I knew we had found the Flying Dutchman. It was an overwhelming moment.”

 

Gamgee described the difficult conditions of the journey, saying, “It was tough and beautiful. The walk up the range from Lorona meant climbing about 2,000 metres in just two days. The jungle is just as it was in 1942—wild, remote, untouched. It was a real challenge, but with the support of the local people, we managed.”

 

On the moment of discovery, he shared, “We had split into two groups, searching in different directions. Then suddenly, one of the locals came back very excited, shouting that they had found it. The celebration was incredible. The team had done something truly special.”

 

Reflecting on the significance of the site, Gamgee said, “When I saw the wreck, it was like stepping back in time. The jungle had tried to reclaim it, but you could still see parts of the aircraft—an engine, twisted metal, the remnants of its story frozen in time.”

 

He also spoke of the emotional weight of the discovery: “This was not just an aircraft. This was a place where men fought for survival, where hope flickered in the darkest of times. To stand there and imagine what they went through—it was humbling.”

 

A Legacy of Remembrance and Renewal

 

Beyond its historical significance, this rediscovery has the potential to transform lives. Gamgee envisions using the site to promote philanthropy, tourism, and economic development for the local communities along the Ghost Mountain Trail.

 

“The people here own this place, and they are the true custodians of its history,” he says. “They should benefit from sharing this incredible story with the world.”

 

He hopes that the discovery will create opportunities for the community, adding, “Now that we know where it is, we can plan. Maybe take people up there, show them the incredible hospitality of the villages along the way, and make this history come alive again.”

 

For Gamgee, the journey was never just about finding the plane. “I wanted to do something bigger than just a search. I wanted to help these communities, bring attention to their needs. If this discovery can lead to better healthcare, education, and economic opportunities for them, then we’ve truly achieved something.”

 

For many, the story of the Flying Dutchman is more than a wartime tragedy; it is a testament to resilience, brotherhood, and hope. The six men who survived endured against all odds, their willpower defying the crushing weight of despair. And now, with its rediscovery, their legacy lives on, inspiring a new generation to honour the past while forging a better future.

 

A Call to Remember

 

As the sun sets over the Owen Stanley Range, casting golden hues across the jungle canopy, one cannot help but reflect on the echoes of history buried beneath its towering trees. The rediscovery of the Flying Dutchman is not just an expedition’s success—it is a reminder of the sacrifices made in distant wars, the enduring bonds between nations, and the indomitable strength of the human spirit.

 

This is more than a story of war and loss. It is a story of courage, remembrance, and the undying hope that even in the most forgotten corners of the world, history will find a way to be heard.

The Legacy of Lae International Hotel: A Vision of Excellence and Determination

In the heart of Lae, a city known for its industrial strength and historical significance, stands the iconic Lae International Hotel—an enduring testament to the vision and resilience of Sir Bob Sinclair. What began as a historic property owned by Qantas in the 1950s has, through determination and unwavering commitment, transformed into a premier establishment that embodies world-class hospitality in Papua New Guinea.

 

A Vision Takes Flight

 

Sir Bob Sinclair’s journey began in 1978, when he, along with his partners Graeme Dunnage, Graham Francis, John Haugie, and Robin Kumaina, took a bold step in acquiring the property from Air Niugini. At the time, Papua New Guinea was still finding its footing after independence, and opportunities to invest in such ventures were rare and fraught with obstacles.

 

Despite their passion, the consortium faced significant roadblocks. The Morobe Provincial Government, under Premier Utula Samana, refused to engage in the project, leaving the group to fund the venture independently. Corporate giants like Steamships sought to acquire the hotel, yet Sir Bob remained steadfast in his vision. He was determined that Lae International Hotel would not just be another commercial property but a symbol of excellence for the people of Papua New Guinea.

An aerial view of Lae International Hotel

Click to watch Sir Bob Sinclair tells the story of Lae International Hotel in this video interview:

                        

 

Recalling a critical moment, Sir Bob shared: “We went to the provincial government to ask if they were interested in taking shares in the hotel. Unfortunately, at the time, Utula Samana wouldn’t see us. He kept sitting in his office while we waited outside. John Haugie and Robin Kumaina got upset because we were left waiting for hours. Eventually, Samana stormed out of his office yelling, ‘Get out of my office!’” This unexpected resistance led to the partners increasing their own stakes in the hotel, ensuring it remained independent.

 

Overcoming Challenges, Building a Legacy

 

With resilience and business acumen, Sir Bob and his partners nurtured the hotel, ensuring that it would not only meet international standards but also serve as a source of employment and professional growth for young Papua New Guineans. From its modest beginnings as the TAA Lodge, the hotel grew into a world-class facility, offering top-tier hospitality and amenities that rival those of international luxury establishments.

 

One of the greatest challenges came from corporate competitors who sought to acquire the hotel. Sir Bob vividly recalls: “Sir Danny Leahy and Sir Mike Bromley from Steamships always wanted to buy the Lae International Hotel. But I told them, ‘If you got the Lae International Hotel, you’d stuff it up!’ I told their chairman, ‘You guys don’t maintain your hotels, you don’t put the money back in. If you got the Lae International, you’d ruin it.’” His unwavering commitment ensured that the hotel remained independent and continuously reinvested in quality and service.

 

One of Sir Bob’s most cherished achievements is the employment and mentorship of young Papua New Guineans. “Some of the staff are only 19, 20, or 21 years old, and they’re learning how to serve and interact with international guests. It broadens their view of life, gives them confidence, and makes them feel they have a future.” Many of the hotel’s employees have grown in their careers, taking the skills learned at Lae International Hotel to greater opportunities.

 

An Unwavering Commitment to Excellence

 

Over the years, Lae International Hotel has undergone a remarkable K30 million renovation, ensuring that it continues to set the standard for hospitality in Papua New Guinea. Sir Bob’s meticulous attention to detail is evident in every aspect of the hotel—from the beautifully landscaped gardens to the locally crafted furniture that adds a unique touch of Papua New Guinean heritage to the interiors.

 

“This is the hotel I built,” Sir Bob proudly states. “Even the Prime Minister and the Governor have given me their best wishes for the hotel, recognising it as the leading international hotel in Lae.” His dedication to maintaining world-class standards has set the hotel apart from others in the country.

 

Beyond aesthetics, the hotel stands as a beacon of quality service, with staff trained to offer an exceptional experience to visitors from around the world. International guests, accustomed to the finest accommodations globally, step into Lae International Hotel and are consistently amazed at the level of comfort and hospitality it offers. “I’ve had guests like Ray Warren, the famous rugby league commentator, come to Lae. They drive on terrible roads from the airport and wonder what they’ve gotten themselves into. But then they arrive at the hotel, step inside, and stand there amazed. They can’t believe that such a building exists in Lae.”

 

A Lasting Impact

 

At 81 years old, Sir Bob looks back on his journey with immense pride. His determination to build an establishment that represents excellence, fosters economic growth, and uplifts the people of Papua New Guinea has paid off. His leadership has not only shaped Lae International Hotel but has also inspired countless aspiring entrepreneurs across the nation.

 

His story is one of courage, resilience, and an unshakable belief in the potential of Papua New Guinea. It is proof that with passion and perseverance, even the most formidable challenges can be overcome.

 

Lae International Hotel is more than just a hotel—it is a legacy. It is a symbol of what can be achieved when visionaries refuse to compromise on their dreams. And as it continues to flourish, it remains a shining beacon of inspiration for future generations of Papua New Guinean entrepreneurs.

Forever Connected to Bulolo: Rommel Del Valle’s Journey of Identity and Resilience

Some places shape us in ways that time and distance can never erase. For Rommel Del Valle, that place is Bulolo—a picturesque town in Papua New Guinea’s Morobe Province that nurtured his childhood, instilled in him a deep sense of belonging, and continues to define his identity even as he builds a life in Australia.

Though born in the Philippines, Rommel grew up in Bulolo from the time he was 16 months old until he was 12. Today, as an Australian citizen living in Sydney with his wife and three children, he still carries the spirit of “Mangi Bulolo” wherever he goes—so much so that he has it painted on his shoes as a personal tribute to his roots.

But Rommel’s story is more than nostalgia; it’s a testament to resilience, cultural connection, and the enduring power of identity.

Growing Up in Bulolo

Rommel’s journey to Bulolo began in 1976 when his father, Romy Del Valle, an engineer with PNG Forest Products, brought his family to Papua New Guinea. From the very beginning, Bulolo became home. It was a place of warmth, friendship, and cultural exchange—where people treated each other like family and where respect was deeply ingrained in daily life.

“I made lots of friends there, especially with the locals,” Rommel recalls. “It was just a really nice place to live, where I knew everybody and developed strong values of respect and love for all.”

Rommel attended Bulolo International Preschool and later Bulolo International Primary School, where he was surrounded by classmates from all over the world—Japan, Finland, Sweden, New Zealand, Australia, Malaysia, and Indonesia. This multicultural upbringing gave him a broader perspective and a deep appreciation for diversity.

“I learned to live, cooperate, and work with people from different backgrounds,” he says. “That experience has stayed with me throughout my life.”

Rommel Del Valle

Click to watch the full video interview with Rommel Del Valle

The Transition to Australia

At the age of 12, Rommel’s journey took another turn when his parents decided to send him to boarding school in Australia. For some, this might have been a difficult transition, but for Rommel, it was a natural step. Having grown up around Australian expatriates in Bulolo, he was more familiar with their culture and language than with his own Filipino heritage.

“I felt more at home going to Australia than to the Philippines,” he explains. “It was a natural transition for me.”

Despite the move, his attachment to Bulolo and Papua New Guinea remained strong. His childhood experiences—the friendships, the values, and the sense of community—continued to shape his identity.

“You can take me out of PNG, but you can’t take PNG out of me,” he says with a smile.

A Vision for Papua New Guinea’s Future

As Papua New Guinea approaches 50 years of independence in 2025, Rommel reflects on the country’s journey and his hopes for its future.

“I wish for every Papua New Guinean to be brave enough to stand up and be counted,” he says. “To be more assertive and inclusive in decision-making, especially our leaders—not just in politics but also in communities.”

One of his biggest hopes is to see greater economic empowerment and job creation for Papua New Guineans.

“If people can start generating income and creating businesses, PNG can move forward as a strong, independent nation in the Pacific and beyond,” he says.

Bulolo: A Connection That Never Fades

Rommel’s love for Papua New Guinea is something he carries with him every day—quite literally. During the COVID-19 pandemic, he custom-painted his shoes with the words “Mangi Bulolo PNG” and an illustration of the Raggiana bird-of-paradise. The artwork is more than just a design; it’s a deeply personal symbol of where he comes from and the values that continue to guide him.

Rommel Del Valle's 'Mangi Bulolo' shoes.

“In this day and age, sometimes we get lost in who we are,” he says. “I do this to remind myself—this is where I grew up, this is my family and friends. Maybe one day, I’ll go back to visit, because there’s no other place like it in the world.”

For Rommel Del Valle, Bulolo is more than just a childhood memory—it’s a foundation, a guiding light, and a constant reminder of who he is. Whether he’s at home in Sydney or walking along Bondi Beach, Bulolo is always with him.

Malum Nalu and Rommel Del Valle at Bondi Beach, Sydney, in November 2024.

Because home isn’t just a place—it’s a feeling that never fades.

The Lost Wings of Papua New Guinea: A Pilot’s Lament and a Nation’s Hope

Captain Michael Butler gazes at the sky with a wistful expression. At 73, the retired ‘bush pilot’ still remembers the golden era of rural aviation in Papua New Guinea—a time when the hum of small aircraft was a lifeline to the country’s most isolated communities. But those days are gone. The airstrips, once bustling with activity, are now overgrown with weeds. The planes that once brought hope and connection to remote villages no longer land.

For 10 years, from 1981 to 1991, Captain Butler flew for Talair, an airline that symbolised the spirit of rural aviation in PNG. He and his fellow pilots traversed rugged mountains and dense jungles, braving unpredictable weather to deliver supplies, transport the sick, and keep communities connected to the outside world. Today, more than 600 rural airstrips have vanished from PNG’s landscape, and with them, a critical link to survival and prosperity.

“Imagine how parents must feel when their child falls sick in an isolated village,” Butler reflects. “They try walking for days to reach a hospital, only for some to die along the way. And then they have to carry the body back. In the 21st century, where else in the world would this be acceptable?”

His words cut deep, painting a grim picture of the reality many Papua New Guineans face. Without air services, people suffer in silence. Essential goods, medical aid, and educational supplies struggle to reach the most vulnerable. Coffee and fresh produce, once flown out to markets, now rot in abandoned storehouses.

Captain Michael Butler

                                    Click to watch the full video interview with Captain Butler

A Legacy of Flight and Brotherhood

The golden era of PNG’s aviation was not just about flying planes—it was about building a nation. Pilots like Butler weren’t just aviators; they were lifelines. Their camaraderie went beyond the cockpit, forming bonds that transcended nationality. Australians, Papua New Guineans, and pilots from around the world risked their lives daily to ensure that the most remote regions of PNG stayed connected.

“But it wasn’t without cost,” Butler admits. “Many pilots lost their lives. We knew the risks, but we also knew the impact of our work. And that made it worth it.”

The pilots who once knew every valley, every peak, every unpredictable gust of wind have now retired. Their deep knowledge of PNG’s skies is slowly fading, and no new generation is stepping up to replace them. Butler laments how aviation today has become overly bureaucratic, focused on rigid safety regulations to the point that practicality is lost. “You can be too safe,” he argues. “If you overcompensate, you forget the real-world application, and ironically, that makes things more dangerous.”

A Nation Left Grounded

Since Talair’s closure in 1993, the aviation landscape has changed drastically. Airlines have gradually pulled out of bush services, citing economic unviability. What was once a thriving network of flights to every province has dwindled to rare chartered planes that only the wealthy can afford. The cost of a ticket from Port Moresby to a rural airstrip, once a mere 35 kina, has skyrocketed to nearly 500 kina—an impossible sum for villagers who rely on subsistence farming.

Without flights, rural economies have collapsed. Coffee, once a major export, has seen a drastic decline simply because there are no planes to transport it to markets. Entire communities, once vibrant trading hubs, have faded into obscurity. “We used to fly every weekend, shuttling coffee from remote villages,” Butler recalls. “Then the flights stopped, and the coffee just rotted where it was stored. The people had no choice but to stop farming.”

The impact extends beyond economics. Health services have deteriorated. Rural hospitals lack basic medicines because airstrips are no longer accessible. Emergency evacuations are rare, leaving patients to endure agonizing journeys on foot through treacherous terrain. Education has suffered as well, with teachers reluctant to take up posts in areas where there is no reliable transport.

A Call to the Skies

Despite the decline, Butler refuses to believe that rural aviation is beyond saving. He envisions a future where PNG establishes a Royal Flying Doctor Service, similar to Australia’s, ensuring that even the most remote communities have access to emergency medical aid. He advocates for government-subsidised air services, arguing that maintaining airstrips is far more economical than building and maintaining roads in PNG’s unforgiving terrain.

“If I were the government, I’d make health and education the top priority,” Butler says firmly. “Fund those properly first, and then we can talk about other developments.”

His passion is unwavering. He dreams of a day when young pilots take up the mantle, when rural airstrips once again see the dust rise as a plane lands with life-saving supplies. When no child dies because they couldn’t get to a hospital in time.

Beyond policy changes, Butler believes in rekindling a sense of national responsibility. He calls upon leaders, businesses, and communities to support initiatives that could restore air services to PNG’s most isolated areas. Whether through subsidies, partnerships with humanitarian organisations, or government-backed aviation programs, solutions must be found.

“We cannot allow an entire generation to be left behind,” Butler pleads. “If Papua New Guinea is to progress, we must first reconnect our people.”

The sky, once a beacon of hope for the remote villages of PNG, now stands silent. But perhaps, through the voices of those who refuse to forget, the lost wings of rural aviation may one day rise again.

For now, Captain Butler continues to share his story, hoping that someone, somewhere, will listen and act.

Perhaps the skies of Papua New Guinea will once again be filled with the hum of aircraft—not just as a memory of the past, but as a promise for the future.

Sir Bob Sinclair: The Next 50 Years of Papua New Guinea Must Be Ours

For more than half a century, Sir Bob Sinclair has been a towering figure in Papua New Guinea’s business and economic landscape. Arriving in Lae in 1964, he has witnessed the country’s transition from a colonial territory to an independent nation and has played an active role in shaping its business environment. At 81 years old, his voice remains as powerful as ever—calling on Papua New Guinea to take ownership of its vast natural resources and steer itself towards a more prosperous and self-sufficient future.

In an exclusive interview, Sir Bob issues a passionate plea for economic transformation, warning that the past 50 years of mismanagement and undervaluation of forestry, fisheries, and other critical resources have kept Papua New Guinea from reaching its true potential. He argues that PNG has been selling its resources for "peanuts" since independence in 1975, leaving the country struggling while foreign investors reap the bulk of the benefits.

However, Sir Bob does not dwell on the past with regret. Instead, he offers a bold vision for the next 50 years—one where downstream processing, sustainable management, and fairer investment partnerships put Papua New Guinea on a path toward real economic independence.

Sir Bob Sinclair

                                    Click to watch the video interview with Sir Bob Sinclair

A Nation at a Crossroads

Reflecting on his recent discussion with Prime Minister James Marape, Sir Bob acknowledges that there is a shared understanding at the highest levels of government about the need for economic reform.

“Having talked to the Prime Minister just right now and listening to what he thinks about our future and our vision, the two of us are on the same lines,” he says. “We are thinking about the economy and the future for our people, our children, for the next 50 years.”

Sir Bob warns that if PNG continues to allow its resources to be exploited cheaply, the nation will "sink" rather than rise. But he is also confident that with the right policies, the country can turn the page on decades of poor resource management and economic disparity.

“We’ve had 50 years of growing up as a nation. Now, it’s time to stand on our own two feet, to say what we want for ourselves, and to demand fairness from those who come into our country.”

His primary concern lies in how PNG’s resources are being used and valued. He argues that other nations have successfully transitioned from raw resource exports to high-value processing industries, and PNG must follow suit.

Lessons from Indonesia: The Timber Industry Example

One of the most striking examples Sir Bob offers is Indonesia, a country that has turned its forestry sector into an economic powerhouse by focusing on downstream processing rather than raw log exports.

“Indonesia stopped exporting raw logs 20 years ago, and today, they are the world leader in plywood,” he says. “They export billions of dollars worth of plywood for housing, furniture, and other products. They are getting the real value from their timber.”

With a population of more than 275 million people, Indonesia’s economic model is built on maximising resource value. In contrast, PNG—with just 12 million people—has failed to capitalise on its forestry sector in the same way.

Sir Bob sees a massive opportunity in following Indonesia’s lead.

“We should be building plywood factories here in Papua New Guinea, using our own timber, and getting on the global market with our own finished products,” he says.

Beyond timber, he believes the same principle should apply to all PNG’s industries. Instead of exporting raw materials, the country should focus on processing and manufacturing to create jobs, increase revenues, and strengthen the economy.

Fixing the Fishing Industry: Millions Lost Every Year

Sir Bob also zeroes in on the fishing industry, another area where PNG has been losing out due to poor regulations and unfair business practices.

PNG issues around 250 fishing licenses, allowing foreign companies to harvest massive amounts of fish from PNG waters. However, many of these fishing vessels never dock in PNG ports. Instead, they are refueled and resupplied at sea by large mother ships, meaning PNG loses millions in excise revenue and economic activity.

“That’s millions of kina we could be taking advantage of, but we’ve been letting it slip through our fingers for the past 50 years,” Sir Bob says.

His solution? Enforce strict regulations requiring all licensed fishing boats to dock in PNG ports, refuel locally, and purchase supplies within the country.

“This is how you take control of your industry,” he explains. “We should be processing more of our own fish, creating jobs, and making sure that the profits stay in PNG—not just benefiting foreign companies.”

No More Exploitation: A Call for Fair Investment

Sir Bob strongly believes that foreign investment is necessary, but he is adamant that it must be fair.

“Right now, it’s a 90-10 deal,” he says. “90% of the profits go out of the country, and only 10% stays here. That has to change.”

He calls for a shift towards equal partnerships, where PNG retains at least 50% of the benefits from resource-based industries.

“We need the right investors, the ones who will treat PNG fairly, not take everything and leave us with crumbs,” he says.

Beyond economic policies, Sir Bob also stresses the importance of enforcing national laws and ensuring that foreign businesses operate within PNG’s rules—just as they would in their home countries.

“We can’t go to China, Malaysia, or Australia and do what some companies are doing here,” he says. “No way in the world would they let us do that. It’s time we demand the same respect for PNG.”

A Future Built on Strength, Not Dependence

Sir Bob Sinclair’s message is clear and urgent: Papua New Guinea must take control of its resources, enforce its laws, and ensure that investment deals benefit the nation—not just foreign corporations.

The next 50 years must be different.

“I’m all about downstream processing because it can employ thousands and thousands of Papua New Guineans,” he says. “We must protect our resources and extract the maximum benefit from them.”

His call to action is directed at leaders, policymakers, businesses, and the people of PNG.

“This is our country. We’ve had 50 years of lessons—now it’s time to use them. The next 50 years are ours to shape, and we must do it the right way.”

As Papua New Guinea marks its 50th anniversary of independence, the choices made today will determine whether the nation continues on a path of resource dependency or steps into an era of economic empowerment and self-sufficiency.

Sir Bob Sinclair has issued the challenge. The question now is: will Papua New Guinea rise to meet it?

A Home in Two Worlds: Rosalie Everest’s Hope for Papua New Guinea’s Future

Papua New Guinea, a land of breathtaking landscapes and rich cultural heritage, stands at a crossroads as it prepares to celebrate 50 years of independence in 2025. For Rosalie Everest, an Australian who calls this country home, PNG’s future is as complex as its past. Having grown up on a coffee plantation in the Eastern Highlands and later teaching in the country, Rosalie has witnessed the nation’s triumphs and struggles firsthand. Her deep affection for PNG is undeniable, yet she also sees the urgent challenges it faces—urban drift, law and order, and an increasing population. But amidst these trials, her faith in the younger generation remains unshaken.

During her visit in July 2024, Rosalie made an emotional journey, bringing her mother Muriel Larner’s ashes to rest beside her father Wally Larner at the Old Kainantu Cemetery. Muriel had been a pioneering force, managing Arau Coffee Plantation after Wally’s passing and founding the Eastern Highlands Cultural Centre. Her legacy of resilience and cultural preservation lives on, a reflection of the enduring spirit Rosalie sees in Papua New Guinea’s people.

Rosalie Everest

Click to watch the full interview with Rosalie Everest

The Urban Drift Dilemma

One of Rosalie’s greatest concerns is urban drift—the movement of rural populations to cities in search of better opportunities. Yet, she sees this trend leading to overcrowding, rising costs of living, and a greater strain on families.

“The best part of life in Papua New Guinea is in the rural areas,” she says. “In the villages, people have gardens, fresh water, and community. But in the towns, people come expecting jobs that don’t exist, leading to unemployment and crime.”

She acknowledges the weight of customary obligations, where educated individuals who succeed often carry the financial burden of extended families. While a beautiful aspect of PNG’s communal culture, this can be overwhelming in urban settings where costs are high, and opportunities are scarce.

Law and Order: A Challenge and a Deterrent

Law and order remain one of PNG’s biggest hurdles. For Rosalie, this is particularly heartbreaking because of the country’s untapped tourism potential.

“Papua New Guinea is one of the most unique places in the world—for its culture, geography, and wildlife. But many are too frightened to visit because of the stories they hear.”

While her recent visit was largely trouble-free, she recounts a minor incident that startled her sons at Koki Market. Yet, she insists that the true PNG is not what is often portrayed in negative headlines.

“Yes, there are challenges. But I refuse to be swayed by fear. I came back to visit my friends, my ex-students, my PNG family—and I have been safe.”

The Uncounted Population

Another concern Rosalie raises is the country’s rising population, which she fears is being underestimated due to census inaccuracies.

“If the government doesn’t have an accurate number of its people, how can it properly allocate resources?” she questions. Without precise data, critical infrastructure like schools, hospitals, and roads may not be built where they are needed most.

A Hopeful Future: The Power of Education

Despite these struggles, Rosalie remains optimistic. Her hope for PNG’s future lies in its young, educated citizens—those she once taught in national high schools, who are now stepping into leadership roles.

“I look at my former students—upstanding, driven men and women—working in social justice, agriculture, and business. Many of them are not just chasing profit but are working to uplift their industries and communities.”

She speaks proudly of an ex-student in the coffee industry, determined to ensure that more of the profits benefit local farmers. She admires the entrepreneurs who, despite the odds, continue to push forward with innovation and resilience.

“Every time they fall, they get back up. They refuse to give up. That’s what gives me confidence in this country’s future.”

The Spirit of Papua New Guinea

Through all the hardships, Rosalie sees something in Papua New Guineans that gives her lasting joy—their natural happiness, humor, and sense of community.

“People in Australia often say to me, ‘Rosie, you laugh a lot!’ I tell them, I learned to laugh because of Papua New Guinea. It’s a place where people share joy, no matter their circumstances.”

During her pilgrimage back to Kainantu, she was overwhelmed by the warmth of those who remembered her mother. “Everywhere I went, people welcomed me. ‘Oh, you’re Muriel’s daughter?’ They remembered her, and they made me feel at home.”

For Rosalie, PNG will always be home. It is a nation facing tremendous challenges, but also one filled with resilience, passion, and an unbreakable spirit. As it steps into its next 50 years, she hopes that this spirit—carried forward by a new generation of leaders—will guide it towards a brighter future.

Remembering the Forgotten: The Tragic Tale of Badihagwa Cemetery

In the heart of Hanuabada, Port Moresby, where the echoes of Papua New Guinea’s colonial past still linger, lies the old Badihagwa Cemetery. Once a solemn resting place for the expatriates and colonial administrators who shaped the early days of Port Moresby, today, it stands as a neglected relic of history. Forgotten by many, desecrated by time and encroachment, its once-pristine graves now lie buried under layers of soil, their inscriptions eroded by the years.

On Remembrance Day, July 23, 2024, I walked through this historic ground with Hanuabada villagers Joe Mase, Udu Mase, and Frank Aisi. As we approached the graves, the weight of history settled heavily upon us. Among the silent witnesses of time stood the grave of Sir Hubert Murray, the Lieutenant-Governor of Papua from 1908 to 1940. His name, still etched on a weathered headstone, serves as a testament to the colonial administration that once governed these lands.

For Frank Aisi, a senior public servant and passionate advocate for historical preservation, the neglect of Badihagwa Cemetery is a painful reminder of the country’s fading connection to its past. With Papua New Guinea on the brink of celebrating its 50th anniversary of independence in September 2025, he stresses the need to restore and preserve such historical sites for future generations.

“This cemetery is of great historical significance. It laid the foundation for socioeconomic development as early as colonial times. It needs to be conserved, cleaned, and respected,” Aisi remarked as we stood before the graves. “While colonial rule had its negative aspects, it also brought governance, law, and modernisation. This is our history, and we must remember it.”

Frank Aisi at the Badihagwa Cemetery

Click to watch a video interview with Frank Aisi

Established on October 10, 1912, Badihagwa was known as the European Cemetery of Port Moresby, serving as the final resting place for many expatriates who could not return home. For decades, it remained a sacred space, protected from encroachment. However, after independence in 1975, the once-strict boundaries blurred. Over time, as Port Moresby’s population grew and land became scarce, informal settlements spread into the area, and the cemetery was left to decay.

Joe Mase, another Hanuabada villager, recounted how the land was once off-limits to locals, reserved solely for colonial administrators and expatriates. “Back then, everything was separate—the European hospital, the European shops. This was their final resting place. Now, many of these graves are lost beneath houses and roads,” he lamented.

Despite its state of disrepair, the cemetery still holds remnants of the past. Faded headstones whisper the names of those who played a role in Papua New Guinea’s colonial history. Among them lies Henry Montgomery, whose name remains faintly visible, and George Sadler, a man whose memory is nearly erased by time. Some graves, like that of Sir Hubert Murray, still stand resilient against the elements, but others have been swallowed by neglect and development.

As we walked further into the cemetery, we found ourselves knee-deep in overgrowth, stepping over broken headstones and crumbling plaques. The sacredness of this place had been disregarded. Soil had risen over many of the graves, obscuring their inscriptions. Some graves had been desecrated, their plaques removed, their identities lost forever.

Frank Aisi, standing solemnly among the graves, called for urgent action. “This place should be restored, cleaned, and protected. We must acknowledge the past, not erase it. There should be efforts to clear the cemetery, restore inscriptions, and allow descendants to pay their respects. This is not just about the Europeans buried here—it is about the Hanuabada people, the history of Port Moresby, and the shared story of our nation.”

The neglect of Badihagwa Cemetery is a sobering reflection of how history can be forgotten if not carefully preserved. With Papua New Guinea reaching a milestone in its history this year, perhaps it is time to rekindle respect for the past and ensure that these silent voices are not lost forever.

Dik Knight: A Lifelong Love Affair with Papua New Guinea

Few people can claim a connection with Papua New Guinea  as deep and enduring as Dik Knight. Now 78, Dik first set foot in PNG in 1970 as a young Australian army officer and was immediately captivated by the country’s rugged beauty and warm hospitality. What began as a military posting soon evolved into a lifelong passion that saw him shape the nation’s education and tourism sectors.

His journey through PNG is one of adventure, determination, and an unwavering belief in the country’s potential. As PNG prepares to celebrate 50 years of independence in 2025, Dik reflects on its progress, challenges, and the boundless opportunities that remain untapped.

Dik Knight

 Click to watch the full video interview with Dik Knight

A Teacher at Heart

Dik’s love affair with PNG began in earnest when he returned in 1974, this time as a teacher at Goroka Demonstration High School. His dedication to education took him to Aiyura National High School in 1976, where he became one of its pioneering teachers.

“I had a wonderful time there,” Dik recalls. “The students were incredibly keen, and education was seen as the great equaliser. There was a real enthusiasm for learning.”

Reflecting on the current state of education in PNG, Dik expresses concern over the declining standards and lack of resources. “I still see dedicated teachers doing their best under difficult circumstances. Some go unpaid for months, yet they continue teaching. That kind of commitment needs recognition and support.”

Dik also notes that in the past, students across the country were eager to learn, and schools were harmonious spaces for both teachers and students. “Today, we need to focus on improving the quality and reach of education. The school system struggles to keep up with population growth, and many remote teachers go without salaries or support for months.”

Building a Tourism Dream

After his years in education, Dik took on a new challenge: tourism. In 1977, he co-founded Loloata Island Dive Resort near Port Moresby. At the time, tourism was an unfamiliar concept in PNG, and the venture required significant perseverance.

“The island had no water, no power. Everything had to be built from scratch,” he says. “Tourism was new to PNG, but the country had—still has—some of the most spectacular scenery and diverse cultures in the world. It was a goldmine waiting to be explored.”

For nearly four decades, Loloata became a premier diving destination, attracting visitors from around the world. However, Dik laments the current stagnation of the tourism industry, citing bureaucracy, security concerns, and lack of government support as major obstacles.

“In Vietnam, a country with a similar GDP per capita, they bring in 12 million tourists a year. Yet PNG, with its breathtaking landscapes and rich culture, struggles to attract even a fraction of that. The potential is there, but we need the right policies and infrastructure to make it work.”

He also recalls how challenging it was to keep the resort afloat in its early years. “At first, our main clientele were Australian public servants in PNG, but when they were suddenly recalled with three months' notice, we had to completely change our business model. It nearly shut us down.”

Despite these challenges, Loloata thrived, thanks to its dedicated and well-trained staff. “We had skilled chefs, mechanics, and dive instructors—many of whom we trained ourselves. Small-scale tourism businesses like ours played a crucial role in job creation and skills development, something that’s often overlooked today.”

PNG at 50: Hopes and Reflections

As PNG approaches its 50th anniversary of independence, Dik reflects on the nation’s progress and challenges.

“There was so much hope in the early years, and while some of it has been realised, many aspirations remain unfulfilled,” he observes. “We have everything we need—resources, culture, and people with incredible potential. But we must address issues like law and order, education, and employment if we are to truly thrive.”

Dik believes that change must come from within. “The people of PNG are the ones who will shape the future. When they decide they want real change, it will happen. The key is education and creating industries that provide jobs, especially for young people.”

He also acknowledges that law and order remains one of the biggest deterrents to tourism and business investment. “For most of the time we operated Loloata, 20% of our staff were in security roles. That’s a huge cost for a small business. Investors won’t come if they don’t feel safe.”

A Lifelong Bond

Despite his retirement in 2016, Dik’s connection with PNG remains unbreakable. “I still come back regularly. I love this country—the wilderness, the adventure, the people.”

He hopes that more Australians will rekindle their ties with PNG, a nation with deep historical links to Australia. “It’s a pity so few young Australians today know about PNG. There’s so much history and so many opportunities to engage.”

For Dik Knight, PNG is more than a place—it is a part of him. And as the nation steps into its next 50 years, voices like his serve as a reminder of the immense possibilities that await, if only they are seized.

A Nation at a Crossroads: Bart Philemon’s Vision for Papua New Guinea’s Next 50 Years

As Papua New Guinea (PNG) approaches its 50th anniversary of independence, respected national leader and former Finance Minister Bart Philemon offers a sobering yet hopeful reflection on the country's journey. With decades of experience in governance and economic management, Philemon’s insights present a powerful call to action for the nation’s future.

A Dream Deferred

When PNG gained independence in 1975, the vision was clear: a self-reliant, prosperous nation ranking among the world’s developed economies. Yet, as Philemon candidly observes, this dream remains unfulfilled. Despite abundant natural resources and billions of kina in revenue from mining, oil, and gas, the country has not translated its wealth into sustainable development. Infrastructure, healthcare, education, and agriculture—sectors vital for national progress—have instead deteriorated.

Bart Philemon

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Philemon attributes this failure to one critical factor: leadership. “Leadership plays a crucial role in any development, including nation-building,” he asserts. “The quality of our leadership since 1975 has not been up to the standard needed to take us to the ‘promised land’ we envisioned at independence.”

Lessons from the World: Botswana and Singapore

Drawing comparisons with Botswana and Singapore—nations that transformed themselves from poverty-stricken states into economic powerhouses—Philemon highlights the importance of leadership grounded in international-standard education. Botswana, which had little to offer at independence in 1966, is now among Africa’s most stable and prosperous nations, boasting an income per capita close to US$20,000. Singapore, led by Oxford-educated Lee Kuan Yew, is now a global economic hub, standing on par with the United States in terms of development.

In stark contrast, PNG’s income per capita hovers below US$3,000. The difference, Philemon argues, lies in the leadership’s ability to implement long-term, strategic development policies backed by world-class education.

The Education Crisis: A Roadblock to Progress

“Nothing will save Papua New Guinea unless we improve our education system,” Philemon warns. He reflects on his own experience in the colonial education system, which, despite its limitations, provided a higher standard of learning than what exists today. He believes that education should be PNG’s foremost priority in the next 50 years.

The current system, he says, fails to equip young Papua New Guineans with the skills needed to compete globally. Yet, success stories exist—PNG pilots flying Airbus jets across the world demonstrate the potential of those who receive international-standard training. “Every Papua New Guinean is capable of achieving greatness,” Philemon states. “But we need to give them the right education first.”

A Broken System: Where Is the Money Going?

Despite a national budget nearing K30 billion, Philemon questions why essential services remain underfunded. In 2021, PNG’s internal revenue was K11 billion, yet K5 billion—nearly half—was spent on public service wages for 155,000 government employees. The result, he argues, is an inefficient bureaucracy that consumes national wealth without delivering tangible benefits to the people.

Rural health facilities lack basic medicine, roads are crumbling, and agricultural development has stagnated. “We must ask ourselves: where is all the money going?” Philemon challenges.

The Way Forward: A Call for Reform and Intervention

Philemon proposes a two-pronged solution: urgent educational reform and external expertise. He points to his tenure as Finance Minister in 2003, when he sought Australian assistance to improve PNG’s financial management. With 22 Australian Treasury officials working alongside local counterparts, PNG achieved its best economic performance in decades.

He believes the same model should be applied across government departments. “We need outside intervention in key areas. We cannot fix PNG alone; we need help,” he asserts.

A Nation at a Turning Point

As PNG stands at the crossroads of history, Philemon’s message is both a stark warning and an urgent call to action. The next 50 years will determine whether the nation rises to fulfill its potential or continues down a path of stagnation.

The choice, he says, is clear: “We must stop dreaming and start acting. The time for change is now.”

Steve Malum: The Best Player Never to Wear the Kumul Jersey

At 71 years old, Steve Malum remains one of the greatest names in Papua New Guinea rugby league history. Widely regarded as the best player never to have donned the national Kumul jersey, his story is one of brilliance, heartbreak, and unwavering dedication to the sport.

A Journey from Siassi Island to Rugby Greatness

Born in July 1953 at Malahang in Lae, Malum's journey began on Siassi Island in Morobe Province. His early years were spent between the island and Rabaul, where his father worked in the bakery business. It was in Rabaul, as a Grade 5 student in 1966, that he first picked up a rugby ball, unknowingly setting the foundation for a remarkable career.

From a young age, Malum showed signs of greatness. At Rabaul International High School, he excelled not just in rugby league but in multiple sports, including cricket and basketball. His leadership qualities became evident when he captained the Territory of Papua and New Guinea Schoolboys team to a historic 3-0 series victory over New South Wales in 1971—a feat that placed him on the national radar.

Steve Malum

                                            Click to watch video interview with Steve Malum

His formative years in sport were shaped by the multi-racial environment of Rabaul, where he was exposed to different styles of play and competitive sports. He idolised legendary players such as Kavora  Posu, Benson Rapila, and Julius Manoa, whose performances on the field inspired him to pursue excellence. His journey into rugby league saw him transition from schoolboy tournaments to major club competitions, with his first significant milestone coming in 1967 when he played in the under-five stone weight division in Rabaul.

An Australian newspaper cutting of the of the victorious Territory of Papua and New Guinea team of 1971.

The Near-Misses and Triumphs

Despite his undeniable talent, Malum’s path to the national team was repeatedly obstructed by injury. In 1975, when Papua New Guinea formed its first-ever Kumul squad, he was sidelined with a shoulder injury. Again in 1976 and 1977, misfortune struck, keeping him from international tours. But Malum's resilience never wavered. He represented Papua New Guinea at the Pacific Cup in New Zealand in 1977, proving his mettle against the best from the Pacific region.

One of his most legendary moments came that same year when he captained Kone Tigers in the Port Moresby Rugby League Grand Final. Despite playing with 15 stitches on his face—five on his nose, five above his eye, and five on his cheek—he scored two tries, leading his team to a stunning victory over John Wagambie’s Paga Panthers. Reflecting on the moment, Malum said, “I went back with 15 stitches and I still scored two tries and we ended up being winners in 1977.”

During his university years at the University of Technology in Lae, Malum’s performances in inter-territorial matches between Papua and New Guinea caught the attention of top rugby league teams. He played for the New Guinea side against Papua in 1972, 1973, and 1974. His ability on the field was so impressive that scouts from the Balmain Tigers and Canterbury-Bankstown Bulldogs offered him opportunities to play in New South Wales Rugby League. Unfortunately, due to lack of professional representation and communication barriers at the time, these opportunities slipped away. “I was the first one to be offered an opportunity to go to play in New South Wales League,” he recalled. “Somehow that didn’t go through simply because we didn’t have the contacts.”

A Life Dedicated to the Next Generation

After retiring in 1984, Malum's commitment to rugby league did not end. Instead, he turned his focus to coaching and junior development, a role that would prove just as impactful as his playing days. He began coaching Magani in 1985, where he mentored young players, including Anderson Agiru and Isaac Lupari. He later returned to Kone Tigers, where he coached a new generation of rugby league stars such as Kelly Naru and Leslie Hoffman.

His work extended beyond club teams. He served as a coach for the Port Moresby Vipers in 1996 and 1997, leading them through the challenging North Queensland statewide competition during the Super League war era. In 1998, he took over the Lae Bombers, and by 2005, he was appointed development officer for Papua New Guinea Rugby League. Under his leadership, he coached the national Under-16 team to a third-place finish at the 2005 Under-16 World Cup in Russia, a tournament that featured future stars like James Segeyaro and Mark Mexico. “We came third,” he recalled, “Australia came first, France came second, we came third, and Russia came fourth.”

His influence continued into the semi-professional era, where he played a key role in Lae Snax Tigers’ development program. Between 2011 and 2012, he coached the Tigers, paving the way for young talents such as Justin Olam to rise through the ranks. His efforts in youth development transformed PNG rugby league, setting up pathways for players to transition from local leagues to the international stage.

A Legacy That Will Never Fade

Now at 71, Malum’s love for rugby league remains as strong as ever. He continues to advocate for the sport’s development, urging administrators to tap into the knowledge and experience of seasoned rugby minds. With 50 years of involvement in the game, he is a living history book of PNG rugby league—one who has seen its transformation from amateur competition to a professional pathway for young athletes.

In reflecting on the state of modern rugby league, Malum believes that while the sport has become more professional, it has lost some of the camaraderie and respect that defined his playing days. “There was a lot of camaraderie,” he said. “In the field, you’re enemies. Outside the field, you’re mates. Whereas now, it’s so different. People hate each other.” He urges young players to embrace discipline and professionalism, reminding them that rugby league is no longer just a sport—it is an industry that can change lives.

Steve Malum may never have officially worn the Kumul jersey, but his impact on Papua New Guinea rugby league is undeniable. His story is a reminder that greatness isn’t just about selection, but about passion, resilience, and the ability to inspire those who follow. He remains, unquestionably, one of the finest players to have graced the game, a mentor to many, and a legend whose legacy will live on for generations to come.