Eight
young men sit cross-legged in a semicircle on the thrice-swept
cement floor of their new youth centre. Outside, in Port Moresby’s
Koki marketplace, colourful and frenetic activity swirls past
stalls where hustlers fight for space with sputtering mini-vans,
while stony-faced youths hide behind sunglasses. Inside, a
shaft of sunlight drifts in from under the eaves, highlighting
the HIV/AIDS and first-aid posters on the otherwise bare walls.
A caramel-coloured dog takes shelter from the heat.
Their clothes are threadbare and the youths are surprisingly
shy to speak up. When they speak, it is in soft and respectful
tones. Yet many young men such as these, perhaps even some
among those present, as one or two of them have hinted, are
feared on the streets of Papua New Guinea’s capital.
Port Moresby is a city which looks and feels under siege.
Many houses are in guarded compounds, hotel grounds are barricaded
behind solid-steel fences topped with barbed wire and it is
inadvisable to walk around, even during the day. Dotted throughout
the capital are the notoriously dangerous squatter communities,
called settlements, some established over 40 years ago, with
newer ones constantly cropping up. Up to 60 per cent of the
people in Port Moresby now live in such settlements, as villagers
shift from their remote rural homes towards the coastal cities
in search of jobs and an often-elusive better life.
Unemployment remains stubbornly high. Eighty per cent of
the population is not habitually employed. There is little
for young people to do. It is hardly surprising that many
of them join the raskols, an all-inclusive and disconcertingly
trendy moniker for the competing gangs, formed along traditional
wantok (meaning one language) or tribal lines, who roam the
streets, threatening locals and visitors alike. In a society
where income potential is limited, opportunistic crime is
rife and increasingly violent. Many ordinary people tell stories
of armed ambush and robbery, or worse.
One of those with such a story is Konio Nori, first-aid programme
officer with the Papua New Guinea Red Cross Society. It is
in great part thanks to Konio and to her colleague Lyndreah
Billy, a Red Cross youth programme officer, that these young
men from the settlements have found a reason for living and
are now engaged in saving lives.
“At first, it was frightening for us as well”,
admits Konio, even as she plays down her own brush with violence.
“These are dangerous areas and, as women, we were particularly
vulnerable. But we wanted to reach the out-of-school youth
in the settlements and provide them with something tangible”.
Retaining volunteers had been a recurring problem for branches.
So a youth coordinator suggested reaching out-of-school young
people with too much time and energy on their hands. In February
2005, the Red Cross identified a group of potential volunteers
from the settlements. Konio Nori and Lyndreah Billy worked
to penetrate these no-go areas and establish mutual trust.
As a result, a three-day first-aid training course was run
for an impressive 200 young people from the settlements. The
course was overwhelmingly positive.
“No other organisation has walked into the heart of
these areas,” says Jasper Touna from Ward 12 at Nine
Mile settlement. Speaking in Pidgin, he adds: “In over
ten years we have never had government or non-governmental
organizations come and conduct such training courses in Nine
Mile with the youths. Papua New Guinea Red Cross has given
us this opportunity and we are grateful for this partnership
and the interest Red Cross has shown us.”
The Red Cross selected some of the new first aiders for further
courses, culminating in a five-day community-based youth first-aid
instructor course for 19 participants whose commitment, participation
and leadership qualities stood out.
One of these was Philip, the newly-elected president of the
Koki youth centre, which already gathers together 40 youths,
many of whom were previously sleeping in the streets. They
cleaned up the centre, scrubbing away graffiti and clearing
out accumulated rubbish. This is now their home.
“We were individuals before. Now we are a family,”
says one of the assembled young men.
The young men are even learning how to cook — something
unheard of in this male-dominated society, where men unquestioningly
take “the largest portion of fish”, as Konio impishly
puts it. And they have, of course, been trained in first aid.
“When we were told about Red Cross first-aid training
it grabbed our attention. We decided we wanted to save lives,”
Philip explains in his soft-spoken way. The young men nod.
“Out of being no-one, the Red Cross caught us”.
He looks away for a moment. The emotion is palpable.
“We find it hard to say thank you to them. They have
given us a direction to do something. Now we must try to see
the good in our society and become responsible for what is
in front of us, as nation builders.”
In Koki market, these newly-trained Red Cross first-aid volunteers
are sought out time and time again. Previously shunned by
their community, people are now gravitating towards them,
seeking their help when anything untoward happens. Some days
ago, they were called when a pregnant woman collapsed in the
market. Later, an older man, feeling unwell, staggered instinctively
in their direction, before fainting at their feet. When another
woman was robbed and stabbed, these young men knew exactly
how to apply a pressure bandage and to transfer her to the
clinic. And they were also able to provide first aid when
a tree fell on a man as he was trying to cut it down. At the
hospital, the doctor was so impressed that he asked the young
men who had taught them.
“The Red Cross must have taught you well,” was
the doctor’s assessment. The man survived.
In another settlement, on the outskirts of town and far from
any medical assistance, Risky Ricky, as he is known, has been
chosen for additional leadership training.
Wooden huts on stilts scatter up steep hillsides, while skinny
dogs and children scamper about on the hard-packed earth.
Red Cross first-aid training is essential to a community such
as Ricky’s. Having completed the youth first aid instructor
course, he has been teaching first aid to others in this and
surrounding settlements. This is a tremendous accomplishment,
not only for the skills being imparted, but because it is
breaking down some of the barriers between wantoks.
Ricky feels shy about teaching but also proud. First-aid
training has enabled the community to deal with such common
occurrences as snake bites and machete wounds, injuries often
sustained while cutting firewood. Not only that, but Ricky
has also learned about Henry Dunant and the Red Cross and
Red Crescent Movement. His dream is to one day be involved
in disaster response. For him, the Red Cross is about helping
everyone.
Mesie, a lanky young woman, stands silently to one side,
listening. Next to her, a brightly woven hammock swings gently
from a tree branch. Cupped inside, an infant stirs then curls
up again peacefully. Softly, she speaks up. “One day,
my baby was choking on some food. But I knew what to do”.
She is one of the young women to have been trained in first
aid.
The Papua New Guinea Red Cross Society is hoping to be able
to replicate the youth programme in other parts of the country.
At Koki settlement the young volunteers have been discussing
setting up health posts in the markets. They need tents, information
material and first-aid kits. They don’t need much, but
it is beyond their means now. For this National Society, the
challenge now is in channelling the energy and desire for
learning unleashed through this project.
“I used to be really frightened of you boys,”
Konio Nori now laughingly tells the assembled young men at
the Koki Youth Centre, who grin sheepishly back. Half in jest,
one of them says he never thought he would find himself inside
a heavily-protected hotel, where a training meeting was recently
held.
“The way we looked at it, those people were big and
we were small”, he explains. They joke that there is
now a common group of Red Cross wantoks, who are breaking
down the traditional barriers, of gender, of tradition, of
tribalism and of fear.
Mostly however, it is clear that the opportunity provided
to these youths by the Papua New Guinea Red Cross Society
is breaking down internal barriers. There is pride in every
face and a deep sense of accomplishment. Time and time again,
the young men and women reiterate with satisfaction that they
now possess the skills to save lives. For these young people,
the call to save human lives has superseded self-interest
and, in the process, has provided them with new lives.
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Papua New Guinea Red Cross Society staff Lyndreah Billy and
Konio Nori, top, dared to enter slums and mobilize unemployed
young people like Risky Ricky, bottom. Now Red Cross activities
such as fi rst-aid training are breaking down barriers among
tribes, and between young people and the rest of society.
©Catherine Lengyel and Hilda Wayne
©Catherine Lengyel and Hilda Wayne
©Catherine Lengyel and Hilda Wayne
©Catherine Lengyel and Hilda Wayne
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“We were individuals before. Now we are a family.” |
©Catherine Lengyel and Hilda Wayne
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