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

                        Click to watch the full video interview with Bart Philemon:

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.

Ben Woo: A Life of Resilience, Faith, and Business in Papua New Guinea

A Son of Lae, Rooted in Resilience

 

In the bustling city of Lae, where cultures merge and businesses thrive, one name stands out—a man whose life has been a testament to resilience, hard work, and unwavering faith. Ben Woo, a true “Mangi Lae”, was born on August 4, 1960, into a family that had already faced great trials. His parents, Ping Chui Woo and Jin Yee Wan, had fled the devastated town of Rabaul after World War II, seeking a fresh start in Lae.

 

Their decision to rebuild in a town set the foundation for what would become one of Lae’s most well-known entrepreneurial families. But for Ben, life was never about simply inheriting success—it was about earning it, fighting for it, and building upon it.

 

Ben Woo pointing out to a picture of the Wan Jin Wah shop he now owns from 1953

                                        Click to watch the video interview with Ben Woo

Learning the Value of Hard Work

 

From a young age, Ben was immersed in the rhythm of business. His family’s store in Chinatown was more than just a place of commerce—it was his classroom, where he learned lessons no school could teach.

 

“Even after school, when I finished work, I would always come home and help my mum in the shop… I learned how to pack biscuits, rice, and sugar into smaller portions. It was just part of life.”

 

But life in business was not easy. As the family expanded their store, they faced challenges—floods, relocations, and the need to constantly adapt. In 1965, the family moved to Eriku, where they established a new home and store on Huon Road.

 

Determined to provide the best education for their children, Ben’s parents sent him to St. Peter’s Lutheran College in Brisbane for high school. While many of his Chinese-Papua New Guinean peers chose to stay abroad after independence in 1975, Ben made a life-changing decision.

 

“I still believed in Papua New Guinea. My family believed in this country. We saw opportunities here, and despite the risks, we stayed.”

 

Building a Business Legacy

 

Returning to Lae in 1979, Ben stepped into his family’s business with a vision—to expand beyond what his parents had built. In 1981, he officially took over operations, and with his wife, Nancy, by his side, they worked tirelessly to grow their enterprise.

 

Over the years, PC & JY Woo Ltd became a household name in Lae and Mount Hagen, with the iconic Wan Jin Wah Store on 7th Street standing as a landmark of his hard work. His business expanded, employing over 150 Papua New Guineans, many of whom have worked with him for decades.

Ben Woo outside his PC and JY Woo shop at the Lae Main Market

 

“I have employees who started as 18-year-olds, and now they’re close to 60. That’s the kind of loyalty and hard work I value.”

 

But with success came challenges. Running a business in Papua New Guinea meant navigating law and order issues, security concerns, and economic instability.

 

In a cruel twist of fate, his Eriku store was completely destroyed by fire. Years of hard work were reduced to ashes overnight. But instead of giving up, Ben saw a blessing in disguise.

 

“The day we were supposed to take over Wan Jin Wah Store, the fire happened at Eriku. It was really strange. But it was a blessing—because none of my employees lost their jobs. We simply moved them to the new location, and business continued.”

The Wan Jin Wah Shop in 1953

 

It was this unshakable spirit that kept him going. The Eriku store was rebuilt, stronger than before, a towering symbol of his perseverance and resilience.

 

A Life of Faith and Service

 

For Ben, business was never just about profit—it was about giving back. His greatest investment was not in goods or stores, but in people and faith.

 

As a devoted layman in the Resurrection Lutheran Church and the Evangelical Lutheran Church of PNG, Ben spent years teaching Sunday school, supporting community projects, and attending church conferences across the country.

 

“I don’t just give money—I give my time. I go to these conferences, stay with the people, talk with them, pray with them. That is what faith means to me.”

 

Many have been touched by his kindness, and some remember his words years later.

 

“One young pastor told me he still remembered my parting words to him from 10 years ago: ‘I do my little bit, and I hope to see you in heaven.’ It moved me that my words had stayed with him for so long.”

 

Reflections on the Future

 

As Papua New Guinea celebrates 50 years of independence, Ben reflects on how far the country has come—and how much further it must go.

“This country is rich, not poor. But leaders need to be genuine. Just handing out money to people won’t solve problems—you have to teach them how to use it wisely.”

 

He worries about the over-reliance on government aid and the decline of self-reliance.

 

“We are making our people lazy. They rely too much on the government instead of standing on their own two feet. We need education, discipline, and vision to truly move forward.”

 

Yet, despite the challenges, he remains hopeful.

 

“I still believe in Papua New Guinea. I love this country. It has given me a life, a business, and a family. Yes, the road is not easy, but we must keep going.”

 

A Legacy That Will Endure

 

At 63 years old, Ben Woo has built more than just a business—he has built a legacy. His businesses, his 40-year marriage to Nancy, and the values he has instilled in his three children—Veronica, Wesley, and Lorraine—are a testament to a life well lived.

 

While many of his Papua New Guinea-Chinese peers have left, he remains one of the few who stayed, believing in the future of the land that raised him.

 

He has faced fires, economic downturns, and law-and-order challenges. Yet, through it all, he never gave up.

 

“I could get shot one day or die in an accident. But at least I know that I have done something meaningful—I have served, I have helped, I have given back. And that, to me, is a life well lived.”

 

His story is not just one of business success—it is a story of faith, perseverance, and the power of never giving up on your homeland.

 

“I have done what I love—serving, teaching, and giving back. My hope is that my journey inspires others to build, to believe, and to lead with integrity.” – Ben Woo

 

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Through the Lens of Time: The Legacy of Laurence "Rocky" Roe

For nearly half a century, Papua New Guinea has been more than just a home for Laurence "Rocky" Roe—it has been his canvas, his inspiration, and his great love. A master behind the lens, Rocky has captured the soul of the nation through his photography, preserving moments of history, culture, and progress. He bid farewell to the country he has called home since 1976 in June 2021 and is now retired and living in Australia. We reflect on the extraordinary journey of a man whose work has become an indelible part of PNG’s visual history.

Rocky Roe on Lihir Island, New Ireland, in 2013, capturing images for a landowner company's book. Here, he shares the photos he took with the local girls. Photo by the late Isaac Tauno.

Rocky at work during his long career in PNG.

                                           Click to watch the full interview with Rocky Roe:

 

A Journey Born of Adventure

 

Rocky Roe’s story began in Adelaide, Australia, where he was born in 1947. His adventure in Papua New Guinea started in 1976 when he arrived as a mechanical fitter for Bougainville Copper. But his heart sought more than the structured life of a mining camp. In 1979, he took a leap of faith, moving to Port Moresby and trading a higher salary for a passion—photography. What he lost in pay, he gained in purpose.

 

"I wanted to see Papua New Guinea," Rocky recalls. "And I got an opportunity to get paid to see it."

 

Capturing the Essence of a Nation

 

From corporate photography to historic events, Rocky’s lens has documented the evolution of Papua New Guinea. He was there when leaders rose to prominence, capturing moments that would later adorn national currency—his photograph of Grand Chief Sir Michael Somare graces the K50 note. His work went beyond the formal; he ventured deep into the highlands, the islands, and bustling townships, preserving the heart and spirit of the people.

 

With each shot, he chronicled the changing landscape of Port Moresby. From a city of well-kept roads and modest housing in the 1970s to its present-day urban sprawl, Rocky witnessed and documented it all.

 

The Evolution of Photography

 

Rocky’s career spanned a transformative era in photography—from the meticulous world of slide film, where exposure errors were unforgiving, to the digital revolution, where technology made photography more accessible. "Autofocus hadn’t been invented," he recalls. "Half the world couldn’t focus a camera back then." Yet, through skill and patience, he mastered the art, adapting as the industry evolved.

 

His assignments took him to mine sites, oil fields, and remote locations where only helicopters could reach. "I spent many hours flying with the door off, capturing PNG from above. Looking through the camera made it all feel natural. Without it, I might have been scared."

 

The Man Behind the Camera

 

Despite the grandeur of his work, Rocky remains humble. A storyteller at heart, his greatest joy has been the connections he forged—whether photographing Miss PNG contestants over the years or engaging with young photographers eager to learn. He speaks fondly of his colleagues, the friendships he built, and the country that embraced him as one of its own.

 

His time in Papua New Guinea was not without challenges. He encountered moments of danger, faced armed hold-ups, and saw the country grapple with law and order issues. Yet, his love for PNG never wavered. "It’s the greatest place on earth," he says, reflecting on his journey.

 

A Fond Farewell, But Not Goodbye

 

Now, as Rocky returns to Australia to tend to his health, he leaves behind a legacy that will live on in the countless images he captured. Papua New Guinea will always be home to him, and its people, his extended family.

 

“I may come back if someone brings me back,” he says with a knowing smile.

 

Papua New Guinea bids farewell to a legend, a visual historian who gave us the gift of memories frozen in time. His photographs are not just images; they are stories, emotions, and a testament to a life well-lived in the pursuit of beauty and truth.

 

Farewell, Rocky Roe. Your work will continue to inspire generations to come.

Barike Band Legend Matalau Nakikus: A Legacy of Music, Culture, and Unity

In the heart of Papua New Guinea’s musical history, few names resonate as deeply as Barike, the iconic band that captured the nation’s soul through melody, rhythm, and a message of unity. At the centre of this legendary group stands Matalau Nakikus, a man whose life journey reflects not only the evolution of PNG’s music scene but also the changing tides of a young, independent nation.

Matalau Nakikus

Click to watch full interview with Matalau Nakikus

A Childhood Rooted in Music and Faith

Born into a family where music was a way of life, Nakikus’ earliest memories are of his father playing the piano and leading the church choir. 

“Music was very much a part of my upbringing,” he recalls. 

“Our life revolved around the church, and so did music.”

By the time he reached high school, Nakikus had already found his way into bands, playing with teachers and schoolmates. One of his earliest bands, Pacific Vibration, was just the beginning of what would become a lifelong passion. Despite his growing love for music, education remained a priority. After completing Grade 10, he pursued drama and arts at the National Arts School in Port Moresby before receiving a scholarship to study at the prestigious National Institute of Dramatic Art (NIDA) in Sydney, Australia, where he shared a classroom with Hollywood actor Mel Gibson.

The Birth of Barike

Upon returning home, Nakikus took up teaching but never abandoned his love for music. It was in 1981, while working at Kerevat National High School, that John Wong, a fellow musician, approached him with an idea—forming a new band. Alongside Glenn Low and a few other talented musicians, Barike was born. The name itself, derived from a Rabaul slang term, became synonymous with music that spoke to the heart of Papua New Guinea’s people.

From the outset, Barike distinguished itself by fusing contemporary music with traditional Tolai influences. Their songs, often inspired by string bands and local folk melodies, resonated deeply with audiences, particularly children and families. The hit song Iau Ra Biavi was a turning point, launching the band into national stardom. Soon after, Ringa Maue from West New Britain solidified their reputation as a band that could unite people through music.

Music as a Unifying Force

The 1980s was a defining decade for Papua New Guinea, a time of national growth but also increasing social and political challenges. The Bougainville crisis, in particular, threatened to fracture the unity of the newly independent nation. It was during this period that Barike recorded Wan Kantri (One Country), a song that would become an anthem for national unity.

“We wanted a song that could remind Papua New Guineans that we are one people, one nation,” Nakikus explains.

 “We didn’t want it to be political; we wanted it to be a song of hope and togetherness.”

The song struck a chord with the people. It topped the country’s music charts for over a year and was played across radio stations and at national events. Politicians may have struggled to unify the country, but Barike’s music succeeded in doing what words alone could not. Wan Kantri (One Country) became more than just a song—it became a national treasure, a musical reminder of the country's shared history and common destiny. Its melody and lyrics instilled a sense of belonging and pride, and it remains one of Papua New Guinea’s most powerful musical contributions to national identity.

The Eruption That Changed Everything

In 1994, disaster struck Rabaul. The twin volcanic eruptions devastated the town, displacing families and shattering lives. On the morning they were due to return home from a performance in Goroka, the band received news of the eruption. 

“We couldn’t go back. Our homes were buried in ash,” Nakikus recalls. He lost everything—including a new car he had purchased just two weeks prior.

Barike responded the only way they knew how—through music. They held fundraising concerts in Port Moresby to support affected families. Out of this tragedy came another defining song, Rabaul Town, an emotional tribute to the town they once knew and loved.

“The loss of Rabaul was more than just losing homes and property; it was losing a way of life,” Nakikus reflects.

 “Rabaul was once the Pearl of the Pacific, a vibrant town where music flourished, people thrived, and culture was celebrated. The eruption changed everything, but the spirit of Rabaul lives on in its people and in the songs we continue to sing.”

The destruction of Rabaul was a devastating blow to Barike and the entire community. Many were forced to relocate, and the music scene that had once made the town legendary slowly faded. Yet, the memories and the music endure, carried by those who refuse to let the past be forgotten.

PNG at 50: A Milestone of Reflection and Growth

As Papua New Guinea celebrates 50 years of independence, the nation finds itself at a crossroads—reflecting on its achievements, challenges, and the vision for its future. Music, culture, and unity have been fundamental in shaping the country's identity, and few songs have encapsulated this journey better than Wan Kantri (One Country).

“This anniversary is a time for us to reflect on how far we’ve come,” Nakikus shares. 

“We have faced difficulties, from political upheavals to economic struggles, but music has always been a unifying force. It has carried our stories, our pain, and our triumphs.”

Barike’s music, deeply rooted in national pride, continues to serve as a reminder of the bonds that hold PNG together. As the nation marks this historic milestone, Nakikus urges younger generations to remember the significance of their cultural heritage.

“We must not lose sight of who we are as Papua New Guineans. Our music, our language, and our traditions are what make us unique. As we move forward, we should embrace modern influences but never forget our roots.”

Carrying the Legacy Forward

In recent years, Nakikus has faced significant health challenges. He has been battling chronic kidney disease, requiring regular dialysis treatment. Despite these struggles, his passion for music and his love for his country remain unwavering. He has spoken out about the need for better healthcare access in Papua New Guinea, particularly for those suffering from chronic illnesses.

“I have to get treatment three days a week,” Nakikus shares.

 “It’s expensive, and many of us struggle to afford it. I am lucky to have my family’s support, but many others are not as fortunate.”

Even as he faces these difficulties, Nakikus remains deeply engaged in music. “Music has always been my way of expressing myself, and even now, it keeps me strong. I want to use whatever time I have left to continue inspiring and helping others.”

Though Barike’s prominence waned over the years, their legacy endures. Today, Nakikus’ son, Nathan Nakikus, and nephew, Anslom Nakikus, continue to keep the Barike sound alive, blending tradition with contemporary influences.

Nakikus himself, despite battling health challenges, remains passionate about using music to inspire and heal. 

“Music is the one thing that can still bring Papua New Guineans together,” he says. 

“We want to continue Barike’s mission, not just as a band, but as a movement to support communities, health initiatives, and most importantly, to remind us of who we are as a nation.”

As Papua New Guinea marks 50 years of independence, Nakikus dedicates Wan Kantri (One Country) to the people. “That song still means everything to me. We are diverse, but we are one. And I hope we never forget that.”

Matalau Nakikus and Barike may have started as just a band, but they became something much greater—a voice for unity, a beacon of cultural pride, and a symbol of hope for Papua New Guinea’s future.