By Big Pat
The crusty village square is barren.
The
entrance is marked by a aged old greying post, its grandness washed off by the
march of time.
Here,
in the coolness of the highlands, it rains often. The surrounding high
mountains trap the evening mists.
The
mornings usually dawn into foggy cold shivery mornings. You can sense its
numbness in the way the locals dress to keep warm.
The
rains bring mud. And in the square, it does get muddy. But on this afternoon as
our picture here shows, its muddiness is in the faces of the people who own the
place.
The
air is as tense as the fog of gloominess that has engulfed their valley since
last December.
A
lone woman, barefoot, wrapped in a warm sweater, with a laplap covering her
waist and bag slung over her shoulder, is addressing the men. Perhaps a brave
woman. Maybe a strong one. But one thing is for sure, she is talking and her
people are listening.
Who
is she? What is she yakking about? We have it on good record from the winds of
change that this mother has challenged her quarrelsome men to lay down their
arms and give her, her fellow women and their children the chance to live
normal lives.
In
many rural out backs, like Kamano in Eastern Highlands, women hardly take
centre stage. Their role is confined mainly in the house and the garden, child
rearing, cooking, household chores, feeding pigs, planting and harvesting and
mourning the dead.
But
since last December, this woman and her people have lived in fear of their
lives after a fight between Jafa and Jamposa communities in the Kamano area.
Ten
people have died. There is no more need for more to die, she pleads. Lay down
your weapons, she is adamant.
She is our unsung hero. A BRAVE WOMAN INDEED.
