GO - Last Man Standing

BY PATRICK LEVO

OLD George leaned against the tree, resting his troublesome knees. They creaked in places when he trotted, the price one pays from years of playing rugby in his youth.

The sun was hot last Friday in Port Moresby. George forgot to bring a bottle of cold water, but never mind, all around him, Papua New Guineans from all walks of life were gathered, each in his and her own state of grief, water or no water. The grand hall of the Reverend Sione Kami Memorial Church at 5 Mile was packed with mourners and VIPs. There was no seat for George. The crook of the neem tree was better than nothing.

George looked ash in his whites, his maroon PX tie looked great. His smile even greater, but it masked the agony of the moment, of the heartache, of having come here to say goodbye to a close friend and rugby mate.

The pipers lament brought him to his creaky feet. It was to be his final farewell to Sir Mekere Morauta, a mate who stood with him through thick and thin in the heady days of pre-independence Papua and New Guinea. ‘Aparua’ George muttered in his Roro, Kairuku lingo, a solitary farewell as the funeral party of soldiers of the PNGDF carrying the casket bearing Sir Mekere, wound its way on a slow march out of the RSKMC to the waiting hearse.

Big old tears coursed down George’s weather-beaten face. ‘Aparua Mek,’ his quivering voice barely audible. I grabbed his arm. I could feel the tremble in his broken and painful heart. Why would a 77-year-old man like George come to Port Moresby for a state funeral for a former late Prime Minister?

The answer lies in an old black and white photograph doing the rounds on social media. In it are eight proud Papua New Guineans, among them George Obara of Yule Island and Mekere Morauta of Kukipi, Gulf Province. Since that fateful day when the eight were etched in timeless memory, the bell has tolled 7 times in the seamless march of history.

The latest was last December 19, in Brisbane when statesman, reformist Prime Minister Sir Mekere succumbed to cancer. He was George’s last surviving classmate of the 1967-71 UPNG intake. They were the foundation graduates. They made history. And George is the last man standing. That is why his tears owed freely at the RSKMC last Friday. He has no more classmates left from that UPNG era. They are all gone.

“This guy, I admire his sense of humor, his humility and dedication, he was a bookish type, always reading books, while GO was on his own, training very hard to score more tries in rugby against Moripi, Toaripi and Ila Karaeta teams,” George recalled of Sir Mekere. “One day we went to the Kone Tavern. I was not a drinker but Mek and Bart Philemon from Lae asked me if they can buy me a beer. I said no I’ll have Orchy. Bugger, Mek went, bought the orchy, and spiked it with vodka. I drank it and it tasted different. “The second one came and by then I was tipsy, I cried for my parents, I conked out, they put me in a cab and took me to the campus. The next day, the girls saw me and laughed. They said GO you girly girly, you don’t know how to drink. “For one week, I did not go to the mess. Mek said bro, how are you? I told him you silly bugger, you spiked my drink and the girls made fun of me! “That is how Mek introduce to social drinking. And here I am, am going to have a last six as a farewell to the man who drink like a man.”

George arrived at what was then the Administrative College to enroll as a foundation year student at UPNG in February 1967. He recalls meeting a Sepik student named Damien Sawobo who then took him to a dormitory where he was introduced to his roommates. That is where he met Mekere and struck up a lifetime friendship. The VIPs in their sweaty coats were pouring out of the church. We spotted Gulf Governor Chris Haiveta and Abau MP Sir Puka Temu. George nodded. Haiveta spots us as we are about to ambush him. It dawns on the governor that something is amiss. In his tears, George is visibly irritated. He mutters to Haiveta. “Why didn’t you put me on the program today? You know very well, I was his roommate.” Haiveta is lost for words. He knows he owes George big time. It was George who looked after the future Gulf Governor when Haiveta went to study in England where George was the High Commissioner representing PNG from 1980 to 1985. All Haiveta can muster is sorry. There are no protocol officers around to hear out an old man. I have to be his protocol officer. Haiveta whispers something in our Toaripi language. Am nodding. And am also holding onto old George. We are moving. We won’t be at the burial. It’s too far away at Independence Hill. Our ride is here. But we have to take a slow walk to the end of the road. It’s a walk of humility and humbleness. It’s a time of reminiscence.

George recalls the memories of their youthful exuberance, of days gone by when books, pretty girls and rugby tickled their fancy in 1970s PNG, and when Mekere was his sidekick. George went on to become Secretary of the Public Service while Mekere became Secretary of Finance.

This is the story as told to me by George that you are reading of the ‘Last Man Standing’.

First appeared on Post Courier Features