Folktales are National Treasures

First published in Steven's Window column in The National, newspaper as "Folktales Are National Treasures". Photo credits: Keisiva Darius

So much happened in the early 1970s in the period leading up to Papua New Guinea’s Independence in 1975. Institutions such as UPNG, UNITECH, Administrative College, and the Goroka campus of UPNG were hubs of cultural and political consciousness.

Students at the University of Technology in Lae contributed their folktales to the student yearbook called Nexus between 1970 and 1971. In 1978, Stokes published a representative of these stories as retold by Barbara Ker Wilson in The Turtle and the Island. The Oxford University Press published a later edition as Legends from Papua New Guinea: Book Two (1996).

These young writers heard these folktales as they grew up in their villages. The student wrote their stories from their memory. These stories give explanations, moral lessons, and descriptions of the natural beauty of landscapes, cultural values, explanations of the mysteries of nature of things, and about the intricate relationships humans have with the natural, physical, and spiritual environment.

These university students realized that cultural maintenance, self-explanations, and collective consciousness are defined by their different cultural and language backgrounds. If they are to live together as a society they need to teach each other their own cultures.

Cultural nationalism begins when those who consider it important enough to privilege it against the pervasive foreign cultures. These pioneer higher education students recognize the need to provide their own cultural explanations of the world and their social relationships with each other.

They used stories from their own societies to explain their cultural background and explanations of the world. They also learned from each other the importance of cultural diversity, cross-cultural fertilization, and multiple explanations of the world. They treasured the folktales from their societies.

One of the stories in Legends from Papua New Guinea captured my attention. “The Great Flood” written by Adam Amod, from Ali Island near Aitape, in the Sandaun Province explains how the Ali Islanders settled on the island and their relationships to Tumeleo and the mainlanders of Aitape.

The flood story had spread across the Sepik region, though the flood myth is also a universal one as documented in Allen Dunes book, The Flood Myth (1988). The Ali Island version begins with the villagers killing a talking eel who had warned the villagers to remove the fish poison (Walamil) used to kill fish for a mortuary feast in the village.

The eel was carved up and distributed among the villagers. The head part of the eel was given to a young boy. The head of the eel warned the boy not to eat it and instructed him to tell his parents what to do. The father planted the eel’s head near a tall coconut tree, dug a hole near the tree so that the boy and his mother can take shelter from the flood commanded by the eel.

The flood destroyed the entire village, except for a neighboring village tribe known as Yini Parey, on the way to the feast. The Yini Pareys were swept away by the flood on a breadfruit tree, ending up on a reef that became known as Ali Island.

The boy’s father had climbed the coconut tree as instructed by the eel. The boy and his mother remained sheltered in the pit near the tall coconut tree. The father, Kairap, ate coconuts to remain alive in the tree. To see if the flood had receded he threw three coconuts down from the tree. The first two coconuts sank into the water. The third coconut touched the hard surface of the earth. The smoke rising from the pit where the boy and his mother took shelter confirmed that the flood has subsided.

The flood myth is about the arrogance and foolishness of villagers in observing the link between humans, the natural world, the animal kingdom, and the spiritual worlds. Knowing and respecting this link is the key to a balance in nature and the world. Human carelessness and lack of respect of nature lead to ecological catastrophe in the world.

Another key element in this story is about the genealogy and migration of people across vast land, rivers, and sea. In the Ali Island version we learn how and why the Ali Islanders had moved from the mainland to settle on the Island. It also tells the story of how the survivors of the flood had come to form the basis on which generations of people from this ancestral place had come about.

The myth is told with the intent to instill in younger generations about cultural taboos, their cultural heritage, and the traditional principles and values younger generations have to follow. The eel symbolically represents the ancestral wisdom and spiritual forces that guide and direct people’s lives.

In my trained eye the flood myth explores the metaphor on human’s relationship with nature and through which the complex relationship of man against nature and nature against man occurs.

Papua New Guineans must write down the folktales and legends of our people and for the future generations. We must write books based on our traditions and culture. I do hope many educated Papua New Guineans find the time to at least record in print one folktale or legend.

We have thousands of folktales in our multilingual and culturally diverse societies. In our race with modernity we left behind the stories of our ancestors. The challenge is to link our traditional societies, our past, and our history with introduced modern cultures and traditions.

The question to now is: How serious are we in capturing our oral traditions in print or electronic forms? It would make sense for the government or other developmental partners to fund research, writing, publishing, and media broadcasting programs to preserve our national treasures.

Folktales will remain an important source of inspiration and medium of education if we care to acknowledge its place in our society. I appeal to authorities to fund research, writing workshops, and publications of our wonderful folklore and oral traditions instead of paying lip service in the guise of cultural promotions.

Spheres of Knowledge

First published in the column: Steven's Window, The National newspaper, Friday 11th September, 2009. Photo: Keisiva Darius

The timeless lessons in life are learnt from our own traditions. We learn them by observing, listening, and imitating those who impart them. We learn about our people, about the land, about the social customs and traditions, and about our own believe systems. Now-a-days scholars describe these as indigenous knowledge systems.

Every time I think of the indigenous knowledge systems I am reminded about the notion of ‘Melanesians Way’, a term closely associated with its eminent proponent Bernard Narokobi. He explored the concept of ‘Melanesian Way’ in a series of newspaper articles published later as a book entitled: The Melanesian Way (1980).

In his preface, as if chiseled in stone, Narokobi says: “Some people say this nation of ours will be united through parliament, public service, roads, bridges, armed forces, and the like. I say, maybe, maybe not. The one thing that can unite us is ideology, or philosophy. Many people are frightened at the mention of the word philosophy. I do not pretend to be a philosopher. But it is my soul’s dream to probe the spheres of knowledge in Melanesia.”

The spheres of knowledge in Melanesia provide some of our finer ideas and values. One of the valuable models of knowledge transfer is captured in Narokobi’s short novel Two Seasons (2002), published by the Divine Word University Press. The book was written during his days as a law student at the Sydney University in the early 1970s and published 30 years later.

The book gives the account of, Kandy, a boy’s coming-of-age story. Learning the traditional knowledge systems through stories, songs, customs, and in socially productive activities of hunting, fishing, tending to gardens, and following the wisdom of elders in our communities make the kernel of the story. We must write such valuable lessons down or even document on basic audio or video technologies.

The Melanesian Islands share similar cultural knowledge systems. I recall the experiences of visiting Ambryn and Ureparapara Islands in Vanuatu. The dances, costumes, and dance patterns are similar to those performed in West Britain, Manus, Morobe, and Madang provinces. Across Vanuatu and in the Solomons boarder are the Santa Anna Islanders. The highlight on Santa Anna was the grand display of the Bonito or tuna fishing dance. Almost everyone in the village is involved because of its significance to this island community.

In some of the Melanesian countries the government and donor agencies support research, performance, media, and educational programs of cultural education and research. New Caledonia boasts about the Djibaou cultural center. The Vanuatu cultural center remains the pride of Vanuatu. Fiji has the Oceania Centre for Arts and Culture at the University of the South Pacific. The excitement and interests these centers generated in the last decade say a lot about the importance of organizing indigenous cultures and institutionalizing cultural knowledge systems. Institutionalizing cultures seems the only way to get government funding for cultural activities.

The issue for me is not about promoting Melanesian Way or any other way, but about the indigenous knowledge and ways of knowing passed down from our ancestors. What are we doing to learn and promote some of our indigenous cultural knowledge anchored in our traditional societies?

One of the most extraordinary examples of bridging the indigenous knowledge system of Oceania and Western science is on the Big Island of Hawai’i. My interests in indigenous knowledge systems have led me to this new wonder in Oceania. The ‘Imiloa Astronomy Center of Hawaii was opened in February 2006. The world-class facility intertwines the indigenous Hawaiian cultural and navigational understanding of the stars with real-time information direct from Maunakea’s world famous astronomy observations. Various activities are organized at the center to celebrate the superior Polynesian knowledge of astronomy and navigation. ‘Imiloa Astronomy Center of Hawai’i is a part of the University of Hawai’i at Hilo and encompasses 40,000 square feet. It has a main exhibit gallery, planetarium, restaurant, classroom, Moanahoku (Ocean of Stars) special events hall and a museum store. The center is complete with an award winning landscape featuring indigenous, endemic and ‘canoe’ plants (plants brought by early Polynesian navigators). The landscaping mirrors the changing plant life found as one ascends from the oceanfront to the volcano.

Our indigenous cultural knowledge systems are part of us. We can talk about them the whole day. After that we can repeat the same conversation every day. We can do the research and documentation of our indigenous cultural knowledge system in our own little ways, but is that enough? Our conversations and researches must produce results: publish them in books, produce audio and video documentaries, and create programs of cultural re-education of our people.

The reality is that our cultures and societies are changing very fast. We need to reinvent our institutions for cultural research such as the Institute of Papua New Guinea Studies (IPNGS). The complete neglect of the Institute of Papua New Guinea Studies has seen it go from being a cultural hub in Boroko to a derelict of obscurity.

Immediate attention is to have a redesigned structure fitted with indigenous architectural motifs, complete overhaul of its current research programs, and make it become the national center of cultural research. This will create spaces for art and cultural exhibits, book launching, a bookshop, theatre performance, writer’s recitals, music performances, film studio, library, restaurant, a classroom for cultural re-education programs for our children and adults, and research studios.

Increased funding, provide new equipment, and insert innovative education and research programs to involve everyone in the community to have the 100% support of the government. If the current site is a legal wrangle then move it out to a wider and bigger space.

Institute of Papua New Guinea Studies must be separated from the National Cultural Commission so that it can have its own funding and powers to pursue a broader vision, wider research agenda, and realign itself with the changing national aspirations of Papua New Guineans to see cultures and knowledge systems documented in print, audio, video, and electronic technologies.

A Book of Thousand Words

Lasting impression from Budibudi Island, Milne bay Province of Papua New Guinea. Steven Winduo's article on the experience published in The National newspaper of September 04th 2009.

On one of the isolated islands in the Laughlan Group in Milne Bay is the atoll village of Budibudi where an experience with books and reading had an unexpected impact in my life. I was among the primarily Australian tourists on board the cruise ship Oceanic Discoverer, who visited the atoll village after we had crossed over the boarder from Gizo in the Solomon Islands. Woodlark Island is the nearest government post and administrative centre. The villagers depend on the ocean and what they can grow on the atoll, though not much to be spoken off as plentiful in the language of mainlanders.

I had walked further away from the village, along the beautiful sandy beach to see if I can walk around the entire length of the island. Coming towards me was a village youth in his twenties. He appeared to be lost in his own world, trapped, perhaps by the sheer isolation, and abandonment as it were. Nothing else mattered to him more than the book he carried with him that day. As he came nearer I noted he seemed happy being alone. The book was not the Bible, but the way he carried and displayed pride in the book showed how much the book meant to him. The book and the youth were connected, somehow, through some force beyond the likes of me.

Of all the people I had met on this trip, this Budibudi youth with the book was the most invective. The book he was reading was Dame Josephine Abaijah’s autobiography: A Thousand Coloured Dreams; the story of a young girl growing up in Papua. Obviously, the book was not just about someone from his province, but also about the experiences of growing up on isolated islands scattered in Oceania, remaining vulnerable to the geographical isolation, and exposed to natural disasters such as cyclones and Tsunami, and affected by the lack of political influence from Waigani or Alotau, and cut off from all matters of modernity sweeping through the rest of Papua New Guinea. I asked him if he has been to school and beyond his village. Woodlark was the furthest and for school, he has never been to high school.

The tourists visited Budibudi to learn about the people, their way of life, culture, and to admire the beautiful sandy beaches, marine diversity, and to understand the island life, away from the trappings of modern cities and towns. The youth with a book on Budibudi Island, in contrast, wanted to learn about the world outside of his small island village. The prized possession of A Thousand Coloured Dreams was his window of escape, the canoe to sail away across the ocean to other places, and his dreams about another world, another reality, another life. The visitors to his island were the physical link between his island and the outside world. After we left he had only the book to indulge in for all he wants.

The reason I recount this experience is to highlight the issues of books and reading. If more Papua New Guineans, regardless of education, where we are, what our socio-economic status is, or if reading is or isn’t part of our culture, can read books written by Papua New Guineans then I see this country on the way to making sense of itself. Would it hurt to reprint some of our PNG classics for every school child in the country? Would it make sense to have our leaders write their memoirs for every child in their electorates to emulate?

The kind of responsible approach to address this national challenge is to redirect our attention away from the path we have been traveling all along. Encouraging steps are being taken. The Education Department has announced during the National Book through Jacob Hevelawa, the acting director-general of the Office of Libraries, Literacy Awareness and Archives that starting next year onwards it becomes compulsory for all schools in the country to have a library. It makes sense also to consider the non-formal education sector’s need for information and reading resources to assist them to participate in the development of the country. Another sector of the population without access to books and reading materials are the ever increasing out of school population in urban centers and rural districts. Ignoring this slice of the population is not the way to go about addressing the development and acceleration of the literacy rate. Many of them are engaged in street vending, endless search for employment, and becoming the undesirable members of the society.

In November 2008, the Department of Education through the National Literacy and Awareness Secretariat released a situational analysis report on literacy initiative for empowerment in Papua New Guinea. In his message in this report the Secretary for Education Dr. Joseph Pagelio acknowledged that the growth rate of literacy is 1% per year, less than 3% per year for our population growth. It is a national dilemma and a national set back. “Political will and adequate funding from the government to support institutional strengthening of NLAS [National Literacy and Awareness Secretariat], the coordinating agency, to boost the morale of literacy stakeholders and effective collaboration network” is needed now than to wait another ten years, says Dr. Pagelio.

The issue is not about books and reading as a Western concept, but on how we deal with books and reading in our lives? What importance do we accord them? How much are we willing to spend on buying books than on other everyday items? The concern is not about print culture replacing oral culture, but about how we use print culture to broaden our perspectives of the horizon. We can go on thinking books and reading are not part of our culture, but the success of anyone’s survival in the world or any students in the education system is determined on the basis of how much one has read to broaden the knowledge base anyone needs to participate in a meaningful and productive way.

Syllabus Without Learning Resources

Steven Winduo's reaction to the PNG Department of Education's Language and Literature Upper Secondary Syllabus, published in The National newspaper of August 28th, 2009.

The Department of Education has made available an electronic version of the Language and Literature Upper Secondary Syllabus (2008) a year after publication.

The Language and Literature Upper Secondary Syllabus for grades 11 and 12 has come a long way from the days when I was part of the Syllabus Advisory Committee. In the early 1990s we changed the subject name English to Language and Literature at Jais Aben meeting. As UPNG representatives on the committee Ms. Garua Peni and I suggested the subject name change to reflect the study of language and literature at the higher levels of education. The committee agreed and thereafter all upper secondary schools teach Language and Literature, with the final imprint of the same name on grade 12 certificates.

Several observations on the new syllabus are due. First, the syllabus, a broad guideline provides the most intelligent document to guide teachers and students in their learning environment. It is simply an instruction to teachers and students about what they need to do to achieve a specific knowledge gap, what they are expected to achieve as the final outcome, (but not in finality), and the list of resources they need to enable the wheel of knowledge to work.

The Secretary for Education, Dr. Joseph Pagelio introduced it in these words: “The Upper Secondary Language and Literature Syllabus contribute to integral human development as it is based on the students’ physical environments, societies and cultures. It links to the National Education Plan’s vision, which is that secondary education enables students to achieve their individual potential to lead productive lives as members of the local, national, and international community.”

According to Dr. Pagelio students will “relate their learning to society, the local culture and the global culture; and to influences that direct the course of change in these environments. Students learn the art of effective communication and the skill of sound decision making, and accept and value views other than their own.” Such a vision is valued for its desirable outcome.

The issue that seems to pop its ugly head up, however, is that the effectiveness of the Language and Literature Syllabus is measured, eventually by its outcomes. Right away one would ask: What are the instruments for measuring the outcomes of the new syllabuses? Are there study resources and manuals to assist teachers and students achieve a measurable outcome? Are there programs to assist teachers to achieve effective delivery of the subject?

My observations are in no way a measure of the outcomes of the Language and Literature Syllabus, but indicate my concerns for the instruments and methods of delivery used in achieving outcomes. The units have a basic structure: introduction, learning outcomes, content (more like outcomes, text types and recommended texts. The syllabus says nothing about how and what to teach in each contact periods, weeks, or a term. It is too general.

The syllabus says nothing about how to plan a course, how to teach the unit, or give model lesson plans to follow. There are no directions on how to deal with pedagogical and learning issues and challenges in effective delivery of the subject.

Consider this: How will a teacher teach about Paliau Moloat when he or she doesn’t have a book on or any knowledge about the person? Are there books about Moloat and the Paliau movement? Grand Chief Sir Michael Somare’s autobiography Sana is out of print and has never been reprinted since 1975. How many schools have a copy of Sana in their libraries? About 99 per cent of recommended textbooks, films, and readings materials in the syllabus are to the best of my knowledge NOT available to teachers, students, and their schools. Many schools do not have advance information technology and internet facilities to access electronic learning resources.

The designers of the Language and Literature Syllabus should have recommended or suggested commissioning local language and literature specialists to write how to study language and literature handbooks, how to research and write literary essays, how to do book, film, essay reviews, how to teach and not teach literary texts, and using of critical study or essays about novels, poems, plays, short stories, writers, and their works. The so- called outcome based Oxford publications do not correspond to the texts listed on the recommended reading list for each unit.

Can a teacher in Buin Secondary School, for example, teach Witi Ihimaera’s The Whale Rider or show the film version, if he or she doesn’t know or have access to studies done on the novel and film by scholars and critics of the Ihimaera’s work, the Maori culture, indigenous knowledge systems, or the New Zealand society? Can a teacher in Brandi Secondary School teach the greatest Eighteenth Century British writers in the likes of Blake, Bronte, Wordsworth, Christina Rossetti, Tennyson, and to the modernist poets: T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land and the Irish national poet William Butler Yeates? How many teachers know that Chinua Achebe’s novel Things Fall Apart was derived from W. B Yeates’s “The Second Coming” poem? The second coming was about the fall of the great civilization of Byzantium and the vision for its rehabilitation and glorification in the modern European cultural imagination.

Apart from the major discord with the recommended list of drama books, books, films, and other resource materials I am more concerned with the impossibility of finding a film like Wokabaut bilong Tonten (1976), Billy Eliot, The Color Purple, Betelnut Bisnis or books such as Wole Soyinka’s Ake: The Years of Childhood, Malcolm X’s Autobiography of Malcolm X, Richard Branson’s Losing My Virginity, or Steven Edmund Winduo’s Hembemba: Rivers of the Forest. This is unreal and will not work.

An immediate revision of the Language and Literature Syllabus for Upper Secondary level must take place. Develop how to teach manuals or resource books for teachers to use in teaching Language and Literature courses. I also suggest running short courses or in-service workshops in conjunction with specialist academics from our universities to make the syllabus work.

Life and Literacy

Steven Winduo published this article in The National newspaper of August 21st, 2009.

In the 1990s we had done well with the concept of critical literacy and cultural awareness. The work done by various groups and institutions around the country saw our people becoming aware that learning to read and write is one thing, but understanding and accessing information to move forward was another. We knew the sense of imprisonment by illiteracy and poverty arrested our conscience as a free people.

This week the Minister for Education, Honourable James Marape opened the stakeholders consultation workshops on the implementation of the literacy development project in Papua New Guinea. UNESCO Pacific Cluster Office in Apia with support from UNESCO offices in Paris, Germany, Bangkok and the UNESCO national office in Port Moresby initiated the workshop. The lead agency coordinating this workshop is the National Literacy and Awareness Secretariat (NLAS) under the Office of Library and Archives of the Department of Education, led by Mr. Willie Jonduo, its Director.

In his opening speech Mr. Marape challenged the task force and stakeholders to rethink strategies and plans to achieve a 75 percent literacy rate in the next 10 years. Among his challenges he wants the task force to come up with an accurate literacy map complete with details of the success and failures of literacy programs in different parts of the country. The Minister also challenged the stakeholders to set out achievable tasks and identify mechanisms and instruments to accelerate literacy programs to achieve a higher score. Some of these include: having all stakeholders and developmental partners working in partnership, reorganization of programs and reinventing institutions, strengthening capacities, and providing of basic literacy services to all Papua New Guineans.

UNESCO Apia Office—Cluster Office for Pacific States Director Dr. Visesio Pongi’s challenge to all partners in literacy development to work together rather than duplicating policies and responsibilities. UNESCO stands ready to support Papua New Guinea’s efforts to accelerate literacy rate reach 75-80 percent in the next 10 years. As its commitment to PNG, UNESCO has included it on the list of countries receiving LIFE (Life Initiative for Empowerment) from UNESCO.

LIFE and UNESCO-CapEFA are two principle programs that UNESCO is flagging in its partnership with the people and government of Papua New Guinea. LIFE is a framework of collaborative action for enhancing and improving literacy efforts, a process in support of literacy which is country led and country specific, a support mechanism embedded in national policies and strategies, and an initiative for technical support services and facilitation by UNESCO in the areas of policy, advocacy, partnership, capacity-building and innovations.

The UNESCO-PNG CapEFA (Capacity-Building in Education For All) programme aims to accelerated national efforts in PNG to achieve EFA (Education For All) through LIFE. UNESCO’s success in Pakistan, Egypt, Morocco, Senegal and Niger under this program now includes Papua New Guinea. I welcome this UNESCO initiative to PNG as it will enable us to strengthen capacities for design, implementation and management of good quality literacy programmes, as well as curriculum and material development, training of senior and middle-level management, assessment, monitoring and evaluation.

The questions begging immediate answers, however, are: Have we achieved any significant changes in our efforts to eradicate literacy and enable a critically literate society? Why have we abandoned or marginalized some of the outstanding organizations and institutions in the communities, civil society, and even in the government, committed to building basic literacy and strengthening critical literacy programs in PNG? Two of these that come to mind readily are the PNG Trust Inc. and the National Literacy and Awareness Secretariat (NLAS). The later should by now have an elevated status of being an autonomous government Department.

The national government must now firm up its commitment to increase literacy rate by making NLAS become a separate department known as National Languages and Literacy Department, with wide ranging powers and sufficient funding to organize and mobilize national literacy programs in the PNG.

The lack of critical cultural and social literacy is affecting our responses to the modern global cultural, social, economic, and technological changes such as the changing social demographics and associated socio-economic activities in our urban areas, global epidemics such as HIV/AIDs, and the impacts of new communication media and technologies, patterns of unemployment, underdevelopment, and transitional tribal urban surge of cultural communities crowding our urban centres.

We are all affected by these sweeping changes. To deal with these changes we need to reinvest our efforts and resources in key programs, organizations, and institutions. We need to organize and assist our communities to give up counter-productive activities robbing their dignity, pride, and future. A nation with a high percentage of illiterates always struggles with dissent, negative responses, and stubborn refusal to abandon socially disrespectful attitudes and backward behaviours.

The need is to re-examine the yardstick of human development priorities and where we have channelled massive funding without achieving any measurable positive outcomes. How much have we achieved in the last 10 years? The surveys, carried out in the National Capital District and the New Ireland Province, by PNG Education and Advocacy Network (PEAN), a civil society organization in 2006 and 2007 reveal a troubling trend in literacy growth in Papua New Guinea: (1) A crisis in school participation with an alarmingly low participation rates among youth aged 15 and 19 years with many of them missing out on school, (2) a crisis in school quality reflected in low literacy rates for those who have completed school and (3) a crisis in literacy with pronounced low literacy rates in the community, dramatically lower than officially reported rates.

It is difficult to ignore the evidence of a systemic failure in accelerating literacy rates in PNG. In the words of Nicholas Faraclas, one time advocate of critical literacy and print literacy in PNG: “the way in which print literacy is implemented must not be counterproductive to the ultimate goal of critical literacy.” Literacy is LIFE. These words echo so loud in our ears, yet we choose to ignore them by shifting our focus elsewhere to trite and banal developmental discourses.

Information Paralysis in PNG

Another Steven Winduo article published in The National newspaper on August 17th, 2009. The column where this article first appeared is Steven's Window on page 5 of the newspaper.

Information paralysis begins when students and teachers have no access to library facilities or the closest library. The educational institutions acknowledge this problem, but are limited in their capacity to provide a library to serve the students as well as the general public. The small and limited capacities of public libraries cannot serve the national demands of the population needing specialized and technical information and knowledge. Existing public libraries do not even have the technological edge to provide online searches and access to relevant technical information needed by special groups of users.

The non-existence of public libraries and the lack of library services in our country make learning and access to information for Papua New Guineans one-hell-of an experience. Over the years I have shared similar sentiments with advocates of library services like Oseah Philemon and the Governor General, Sir Paulias Matane, that our government must fund school libraries and public libraries. Serious commitment to the development of libraries and expansion of library and information services to the people is needed. Recent announcement on making school libraries a compulsory requirement for all schools is refreshing, but seeing it through is the difficult part.

A nation without libraries and information resources that libraries provide is a nation that struggles to make sense of the changing global environment. In bookshelves of school libraries and public libraries there are no new titles or the kinds of titles someone needs for specific purposes. Journals and electronic search and research facilities are needed in these libraries. Book related gatherings and activities are the public services of libraries.

Existing school and public libraries have no funding and cannot afford to order new books. The same old response is heard over and over again. The cost of buying books from overseas publishers is astronomical. This is a story that is all too familiar to the dedicated library and information personnel throughout the country. Some of our urban schools are still yet to build school libraries.

For example, the Waigani Primary School, a prime school in the city, build on the grounds of the University of Papua New Guinea, where my children and the children of other top public servants attend school adorns the school ground. Instead a section of a building that houses the administration is converted to a library. So much for a city school with a room labelled library, but on inspection one would see how unfriendly, disorganized, and frightening such a place is for our children.

If we are concerned about improving the quality and standard of education of our children through the pursuit of knowledge in published forms such as books, and now-a-days in electronic forms, we need to make the decision to improve the standard of our existing libraries by building standard libraries in our schools where students can go to discover the magic of knowledge.

I may sound contrite to some for expressing my views about this issue, but as someone who is both a learner of new knowledge and a scholar who has to research, teach, and write about Papua New Guinea I have had the good fortune of accessing relevant and up-to-date information from different libraries around the world. Others have excellent collections of books and publications about Papua New Guinea, making them become the self-appointed custodians of knowledge of PNG.

I acknowledge that one or two provinces have committed themselves to building a new or redeveloping an existing public library. Other provinces need to be persuaded into undertaking similar commitments. In my recent visit to Wewak I was shocked to see the old Wewak public library is now converted to the District Treasury Office. I appeal to those in the know and who control the funds to Wewak and the East Sepik Province to build a new Wewak Public Library as a repository of knowledge and restore the history of the province, but also as the site of knowledge gathering, research, education, and reading pleasures of the beneficiaries.

While our schools remain the primary providers of library and information services, school administrators and boards, need to give priority to the establishment or development of a school library. Giving the same old excuses of insufficient funding is counterproductive. Apart from setting aside annual funds, coordinating of activities and fundraising activities for a school library, and using part of the project fee for building a school library, school boards and administrators need to seek out help of the community.

I make this point as a parent with children attending the Waigani Primary School in the nation’s capital. I have not seen a building that is called a school library or heard from the School Board about activities to raise funds for building a school library. I have not even seen my children bring home a book borrowed from their school library. There is no commitment from the school board to do so. As far as my kids have been in this school nothing good has come out of this school, not to mention the complete disregard for a parents and citizens meeting or even voted for new board members. A certain individual from that school is rumoured to have used the school money to buy a CRV four doors. The same individual abused, risked to thugs, and wrecked the previous school bus. The children have no school bus or vehicle to transport them during school related activities. I paid my children’s project fees for the school to build a school library or a science laboratory to enhance their learning. I hope someone in authority will investigate this non-transparent and irresponsible practice.

Our primary schools, secondary schools, and major centres need public libraries. The government need to fund the establishment of public libraries with the aim of improving the provision of services and making accessibility to information and knowledge of the world easier to our people. Without continuous support from the government our libraries and schools will remain weakened by a system of information paralysis.

Impoverished Reading Culture

The first of several articles on reading culture, books, libraries, literacy, cultural knowledge, indigenous knowledge system, folklore, education, media literacy and technology, film documentaries, writing, and publishing in Papua New Guinea by Steven Edmund Winduo, published in The National newspaper of Papua New Guinea under the column Steven's Window.


People are having a lot of problems with reading. I observed that students at the University of Papua New Guinea are not carrying textbooks around to read. Students walk in and out of lecture rooms without any textbooks. I see them carrying a rolled up writing pad, a folded exercise book, or their bilums, baskets, and bags. Most of them don’t seem to care whether they carry a textbook. They are happy without textbooks. I see them gather in small groups talking and laughing. I see them sitting around the forum, but without reading any books. I see them walking around holding hands or talking on their cell phones. It is odd for university students to fill the campus without having texts books in their possession.

I have traveled and lived in many international university campuses where students are seen buried in their textbooks, or rushing off to their classes with textbooks under their arms, in their bags, or next to them in coffee shops, cafeterias, and even under a shady tree. Students walk in and out of libraries with many books. Bookshops are filled with students buying textbooks, supplementary texts, and even books of general interest. The busiest places on a campus are the library, the bookshop, and the cafeterias. Books are everywhere. They are the inseparable gear of a student on campus.

I decided to take it on myself to tell my class one day about my observation. I was teaching a course on literature ad politics. I had about 60 students registered for the course. I began my course with some theoretical and conceptual frameworks influenced largely from the Marxist school of thought. In my first lecture I noticed the students were not with me. The key thinkers such as Karl Marx, Hegel, Emmanuel Kant, Theodore Adorno, Antonio Gramsci, Jean Paul Sartre, Ferdinand Saussure, Frederic Jameson, Stuart Hall, or Raymond Williams were not their cup of tea. For two weeks I talked to students attending my class without textbooks or any supplementary texts.

I am convinced photocopying lecture notes costs a lot of money. I believe lecturers should not photocopy lecture notes, books, or journal chapters to give to their students. Students should not be spoon-fed or have their tuition subsidized by the university. Students should pay for their lecture notes, readings, and textbooks. Every year staff at in the School of Humanities and Social Sciences, for example, run down the poor photocopy machine several times a year because of heavy photocopying load, let alone running high the bills for photocopying. Students must buy their photocopies whether lecture notes, journal chapters, or textbook chapters. Students are led into believing that they can attend lectures without buying their own textbooks because lecturers will give free handouts, lecture notes, and readings. This is a false sense of responsible learning.

I raised the awareness of this poor learning attitude in class one day. Soon after that lecture three quarters of the students dropped out of my course. How could students understand theoretical and abstract ideas only from a lecturer’s notes? A lecturer is not the gospel truth of the subject he or she teaches. A lecturer guides the young raw minds inexperienced in the path of knowledge to achieve a competence sufficient enough for national duty after graduation. Students are expected to read beyond the readings set by a lecturer. Lectures are only understood when students have read the required readings and other relevant texts before they attend class. Instead, students attend classes expecting a lecturer to spoon-feed them everything. Such learning expectations do nothing more than making a class of lazy students pontificating a lecturer as the only source of knowledge.

Somewhere along the line something went wrong. I know that the curriculum and syllabuses are carefully designed and published to effectively develop the reading and learning skills of students. If these are taught and delivered properly students should be properly equipped with reading and writing skills by the time they get to the university. With teachers who are good at teaching reading and writing skills their students too benefit from the skills and confidence of the teacher. With teachers struggling to deliver the right skills of reading and writing students too fumble and stumble.

The problems of reading among university students are like a cancerous growth within our young society. We should not allow it to grow or gain footing in our education system and learning environment. Our goal should be to end such poor attitudes among university students. It should not only be the responsibility of university lecturers. It should be everyone’s responsibility to encourage and instill in our young people’s minds the values of reading and making books become an important part of growing up and developing successful foundations to reach one’s dreams.

I shared this observation with the Governor General of Papua New Guinea Grand Chief Sir Paulias Matane at the Government House one day. He was shocked to hear that our university students are not reading or buying textbooks and carrying them around in traditional scholastic fashion. Shock it was to him because His Excellency is both an avid reader and writer in his own right. He had come from a very oral society to one that is dependent on written texts and electronic material cultures.

A nation is strong if its foundations are build on a well read and literate population. Good leaders and wise man can lead their people, but their people can fall behind and be a burden, when they cannot understand what is happening around them. Policies on improvement of quality of life and national development have been made and shelved because then no one reads them or implement policies The implementers do not understand them owing to their inability to read such documents in the first place. The language of some of these policies is written in difficult technical languages that people have different kinds of interpretations and takes on a policy.