https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RobertMadang/Poverty has taught me life.Fanned by dedicated US Peace Corp teachers and New Zealand Colombo Plan teachers early in school, I had an avid interest in the English Literatures. I love writing poetry and short stories - an interest I kept until today.hourly12000-01-01T12:00+00:00https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RobertMadang/503811Hard to Say Good Bye ‘Twas hard to say good bye, when we were like brothers and sisters! ‘Twas hard to say good bye to a place we called home! ‘Twas hard to say good bye when we knew it could be the last we’d see one another. ‘Twas hard to leave an era. The bond, woven over five years was a...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RobertMadang/503627When Death Stares Death, grotesque, stared. My mind snared. Memories unrolled most revered. Dear wife and children adhered. Brothers and sisters remembered. Worldly responsibilities unfinished. Regrets unaccomplished. What would happen to my wife and children? Who’d look after them? Who’d love...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RobertMadang/503393DEATH We know death will come. Only God knows the outcome. How, when and the manner we’ll meet our Maker is not for us to ponder. Death is a fated fate. Our fated duty performed, depart we must to the world beyond. The manners of our death will vary. Violent or peaceful is not for us to worry. It...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RobertMadang/502548THE SACRED SIGNAL The hills and jungle echoed the sounds of the gong. Pulsating, intense and urgent. Penetrating every crook and cranny. Emergency! Arms holding axes, hoes and knives froze in mid-air. Hearts stopped – gasping for air. Intently deciphering the signal unmistakable. Usually...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RobertMadang/502176THE MOURNING Life’s precious. Deaths revered. A loss to a family Is a loss to everybody. Mourning is the community’s duty. Could stretch for days, likely. Hard to depart with one so loved and of high regard. One of the mourners, perches on a swing pours out all his life story. All the good he had...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RobertMadang/501954The LongHouse ghost The cloudless deep-blue sky. The blazing sun burning high. Larks fly in drunken flight pattern. Chasing insects from their nest driven. The long house under the canopies of fruit trees. Farmers under heavy load bend double, going up the ladder steep humble. Inside there’re a...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RobertMadang/501822Nature’s Child The River was our swimming pool. Early morning the water was really cool. ‘Twas where we learned to dive and swim. For us kids, ‘twas as natural as a dream. The trees - towers for us to reach the sky. To install wind vanes to catch the wind high. To detach ourselves from the busy...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RobertMadang/501400A Broken Chain Four years had gone by. No war planes in the sky that could rain down destructions at anything that attracted their suspicion. Sense of freedom we felt. The life we had put on hold was back to normal and bold. ‘Twas back to farming. Rice planting. Hunting. Fishing. Though the War...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RobertMadang/500995Money Grow on Trees Who’re we to fight the Almighty? Who're we to fight reality? Who're we to change the course of nature? Who're we all these to alter? Once in a while we must go home. Despite having found Tanjong an excellent home. We couldn’t and mustn’t forget our roots. When the opportunity...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RobertMadang/500516Bribery Coffee money. Tea money. Honey. Lubrication. Commission. Call it names you feel right. It’s still a Bribe. A rose by any other name is still a rose all the same. It’s an obstacle to fairness, business and services. It cuts queues and views. Bias is one of the blues. It’s a powerful tool....