Frank Makanuay: I Cried

I cried

Gideon Gregory Maim inboxed messaged me tonight and a flood of memories come rushing out, and I thought of Michael Horota Tekwie. Truly this man would have become a great lawyer, but the man upstairs needed him more for the human rights litigation in his court room upstairs.

I did not look out of place when I stood among a bunch of University Png students not so long ago and together we painted the canvas across the sky with the imaginary stroke of the paint brush, red, white and blue of the Morning Star, Free West Papua, Still I rise, I rise, I rise.

A juggling act, on one hand I was coaching Rugby Union and teaching a bunch of no names, that Rugby Union is a running game, and I used to say to them, don't run at my face but run at the space, simple things, done well, at speed, and the four principles of the game, and on the other hand, I was skipping and flirting with the great minds of the future on the hallowed grounds of academia with boys and girls all of whom, I am proud to say did graduate with Degrees in honour of their brother and leader Michael Horata Tekwie.

Thanks Giddix, if it is not I, then who else, and it is indeed not a question of when it will be, but it will be, just a matter of time.

I will rise, I will rise, and I will take that gentle walk of freedom, I want to walk in all those places that I used to run, I want walk slowly and take it all in, the sight, the sound, the beauty of the flora and fàuna, the mountains, hills and valleys, I want to let the morning dews wet my toes and my feet on the green green grass of home, and there I want to look up into the great big blue sky, and I want to let the morning sun caress my face so gently, I want to feel its warm embrace all over me, and I want to smell the cool fresh air sweeping down from the majestic lofty heights of Mount Cyclop, I want to face the shoreline and the sea and I want look into the vast ocean and its beautiful creatures big and small, and I want take a slow walk along the white sandy beaches of my homeland and truly feel the the grains of the sand crumble under my feet, I want to wade into the sea and bathe in it and yes, I want to look into the setting sun sinking in the horizon and there above it, I want to watch the long, dark clouds slowly forming, falling pregnant with bags of water telling me it is going to rain, and indeed, I want to take a slow walk in those places where I used to run when I was a child, I want to let the rain fall down and drench me, and wash me all over...please, let me be free, I want to be free....let West Papua be free...

Rest In Peace, Michael