25/01/2025
Growing up in Malalaua Station and Hamuhamu in the Gulf Province during my early childhood, my dad was a FIFO engineer working in the Kutubu oil fields. I grew up surrounded by my cousins and the rest of my family, and life was joyful.
I had a heart for kids whose parents had passed away or those from single-parent households being cared for by their grandparents.
I would hear villagers or the community people walking past their house sometimes, uttering words like "Mere leve heafo leipe?" (What’s the use of taking care of that child?). Hearing those words always deeply hurt me.
I would often think about the mean words spoken to these children, and i would run into my room and cry.and I would ask myself why life is unfair sometimes .
At our Malalaua house, we had a landline that was used by pretty much everyone. Whenever my dad was planning to come for his break, he would set a specific time to call the landline, and that’s how communication happened back then—you had to time your call and be near the phone to answer.
He would call mum and after Mom finished talking to Dad, she would ask me to say something. I would often request extra slippers and clothes so I could give them to these kids. The beautiful thing was that my mum and dad always supported what I asked for. They have always been people with big hearts who gave generously, and I guess that rubbed off on me.
I would give these kids the clothes and slippers, and the joy on their faces was unforgettable. They would smile, show their grandparents, and say, “Grandma or Grandpa, do I look good?” Their grandparents would respond, “My grandson or granddaughter, you look beautiful in it.”
Was one of the beautiful sights witnessed when growing up, all in all in doesn't cost you anything to be kind.
