Ten years ago, my big son left us. He went across the border, to Merauke in Indonesia. He promised us to come back soon, but he never came back anymore. We heard that our son has got married there, changed his citizenship, and got a job in the immigration office. He had become Indonesian. Maybe he feels he is higher than us, so he doesn’t want to come back? I don’t know. Some months ago, my husband and I went together to Indonesia to find him. We got a free ride in someone’s boat. But the Indonesian city was too big, where we could find him? We stayed for one week, until finally we heard from him. He told us to wait as he was on his way to town. But the owner of our boat could not wait. We are people with no money, we have no right to decide. I did not want to leave, but my husband insisted. When I was in Merauke, I cried everyday. When I saw the coconut trees at the border crossing, I cried. And entering Papua New Guinea, I still cried. I hope one day he will come back to here, to his village, his family, his house. I want to see him once, at least once, before I die. Morris, we miss you.
Mama Pine, a mother in waiting.
Ber, southern coast of Western Province, Papua New Guinea, 2014