KINDNESS HAS ITS OWN REWARD
A story from Fiji
KIND:\j,;SS HAS ITS OWN REWARD
· by Jane 0 'Neill
As old Matai trudged homeward, weighed under a basket
. of vegetables and a length of sugarcane, he was brought to a halt by
the sight of an elderly woman sitting by the roadside. She looked
weary and showed signs of having travelled far. Being a curious
man, Matai began to converse with her. He found that she had walked
from Ba and was heading for Vatukoula. Now, as night was falling,
she was sitting down to rest her weary body. She wore an old tat-
tered dress, and carried a basket. Inside he could see the top of a tin,
and he guessed it contained her money. Her face showed the faded
beauty of youth and the wrinkles of old age.
The sun went down lower. Matai could not imagine him-
self sleeping in his snug bure while the old lady was out in the cold,
perhaps even in the rain, so he invited her to his hou§e.
The village people viewed the pairwith curiosity, for Matai
hardly ever had visitors. His wife, Mereani, graciously received the
old lady. She prepared their dinner, while their guest had a wash
and put on the change of clothes that Mereani gave her. After the
meal, they enjoyed a ta/anoa session around a yaqona bowl.
The old lady accepted their hospitality gratefully. She did
not reveal much about herself but, within a short time, she knew all
there was to know about her host and hostess. Poor but happy, they
lived on their own except for an occasional visit from one of their
five married children.
They retired quite early for they were tired from the day's
activities. The hosts saw to it that their guest was as comfortable as
possible. As they were not wealthy, this meant going without their
own warm blankets.
Mereani rose early the next morning to prepare breakfast.
She looked at the corner where their guest had slept, only to find a
bed which did not seem to have been slept in. The only trace of the
mysterious visitor was her old basket.
Tali Magimagi
Mereani woke up Matai. They searched their compound and asked
their neighbours, but no one had seen her leave. While Matai
continued searching outside, Mereani went back into the house.
Seeing the basket, she picked it up, wondering whether she should
open it or not. Her curiosity finally won, and she unclasped the
basket. She uttered an exclamation and called Matai. She was both
excited and frightened, but Matai reassured her.
I
!
! In the basket lay a tabua of the finest quality. It had silver
trimmings. There was also a waseisei. This necklace of polished
whale teeth was intricately made and the dark colour of the magimagi
used was an indication of its age. Matai, an.honourable man, decided
that he would return these priceless items to the old lady. Meanwhile,
he would guard them with his life.
The village chief heard of the old lady's visit and about
what she had forgotten, or what they thought she had forgotten. He
asked Matai to let him see the basket and its contents. To his
amazement, he recognised the items.
He explained that the lady was the wife of the great chief
Taraniqio, one of his own ancestors. She had been the kindest lady
that had ever lived and she had appeared to many a person, to test
their kindness and generosity. She left presents to good people.
Matai and Mereani treasured the old lady's presents from
that day on. They vowed that they would never close their door to
anyone, and to live up to the honour bestowed on them by their
visitor.
Waseisei
2 Tali Magimagi
 MAYERLY SANCHEZ: BLESSED ARE THE PEACE-MAKERS

"Most people just accept the violence and the killing as the
A true story from Colombia way it has always been. They don't think about changing their
world," Mayerly reflects. .
MAYERLY SANCHEZ: BLESSED ARE THE PEACE-MAKERS
In Mayerly's own life, the need for peace was exemplified
by Dean Nelson and Frances Pene when Milton, her close friend and next-door neighbour, was stabbed to
death in a gang fight in 1996,just a few blocks from home. Milton and
"Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me".
Mayerly had joined a children's group five years earlier. Their aim
Many of us have sung the song, yet few of us literally become peace-
was to help the refugees who were pouring into the capital city to
" · makers on earth. escape the fighting in the countryside around. But when Milton was
Mayerly Sanchez has. She has done it in Colombia, one of
fiftee, he joined a gang, and this led to his death. Shortly before,
the world's most war-torn and violent countries. And the world
.; Mtlton and Mayerly had been playing soccer together. His death is
r' ,. took notice. In 1998, Mayerly, at the age of 14, received a nomina-
t · a cold reminder to her that each time she leaves her own home, she
tion. for the Nobel Peace Prize. might not return.
"The death of my friend Milton was like a force that pushed
k me to speak out and be bold ... to make the message known that we
.i'
•'j don't have to live like this," she said.
. (·
Mayerly was twelve years old at the time. That same year,
.1'1
1966, she and 27 other children representing ten organisations from
.."' around the country were invited to a meeting. They were asked to
l\·. ',
f· :r.· think about how children's lives could be improved in Columbia.
t,
!.
·
-R
It
!
After listening to. adults talking for a long time, the children asked
to be left alone to discuss their ideas.
t :,f.. "We wanted to find out own solutions," Mayerly recalls.
f'
t j l:.-
. What they came up with was a peace movement among
children, ad another su gestion was a vote on children's rights.
L.
t· jj: This was the birth of the Children's Peace Movement.

r ·m UNICE nd hundres of. other. organisations helped to organise

l lr: Columbia s first democrattc votmg by children. The children ap-
'! pealed to both the army and the rebels to stop all fighting on the day
f,, · '. ,.;f' Colombia's 35-year civil war is Latin America's longest-
running conflict. More than 200,000 Colombians have died in this of the voting.
'[
' "Don't kill anyone when we vote for peace," they asked.
:' . I

d
,.' internal war. Hundreds of thousands of people have been displaced
And the men listened. No one was killed on that day.
or kidnapped. Many simply disappear. Death squads, guerillas, drug
' ili traffickers and other criminals kill more than 26,000 people in The vote was an unusual one. The candidates were not
' Columbia each year. Homicide is the most frequent cause of death people, but rights-twelve rights, each illustrated with a white hand
of peace. The ones voted most important by the children were the
for young Colombian men. It is dangerous to walk alone after dark
the right to life, the right to peace, and the right to love and family.
on the streets in the part of Bogota where Mayerly lives. Young
people have knives and guns, and gang killings are common.
 Tali Magimagi Tali Magimagi 101
100
 MAYERLY SANCHF.Z: BLESSF.D ARE TH£ PEACE-MAKERS MAYERLY SANCHEZ: BLESSED ARE THE PEACE-MAKERS

Children from all over the Nearly three million children in Colombia now comprise a
•· country voted- 2,700,000 part of this peace movement that calls on neighbourhoods, govern-
,, votes were counted. ment, the military and death squad groups to stop the violence.
Through a grassroots community group supported by the local
Nazarene Church and World Vision, children organise
'I
l neighbourhood meetings and meet with local adults.
Colombia's young generation declares to their community's
r elders that the lifestyle of violence must stop. Each Saturday,
'-· . the right to life Mayerly teaches dozens of children how to promote peace. Her

I ·• leadership abilities have been put to use in organizing these groups

of children, who, in tum, go out into their communities and talk to
the right to peace adult groups about ending the violence in their country. In one
neighbourhood, they explain to adults how they could all work to-
gether to rebuild their country. For example, the children told them
.,,.'.
:_, that they could start solving problems by making agreements right
!:t
there, such as not mistreating children. According to Mayerly, this
.'
!.
t was a neighbourhood where adults have been mistreating children
!) for generations.
.I the right to love and family
;.
'('
Today, Mayerly reports that the adults listen to the chil-
·
--'
·4
>,

! · Two years later, Mayerly's leadership in the peace move-

t· :1
"•:
. i; ment received the attention of the 1996 Nobel Peace Prize winner, Jose
f :
' ;. _;
Ramos-Horta. He nominated Mayerly and two of her teenage friends
:f•
g for the prestigious award. Although they did not win, the nomination
l
f.
',l· was noteworthy enough that arrangements were made for Mayerly to
meet the country's President, Ernesto Samper.
i!; "I told him it was important that we talk to the people with
It
'lj

· !
I;,
;
the weapons-the military, the armed gangs and other groups-and
explain what they are doing to innocent people,'' Mayerly said . "We
need a dialogue between the people, the military groups and the
: President."
.r.
Mayerly 's Christian faith is the foundation of her thinking.
.,
"God tells us that we are brothers and sisters. That is a fact. But if
.; there is injustice in how we treat each other, then there cannot be
·...
I·
:1
peace. Peace and justice go hand in hand. As long as children are
f
1:...
starving, there is no justice for them. There is no peace. As long as
there is a person without a job, worrying about feeding his children,
t there is no peace."
 dren, and the incidence of mistreatment has dropped
substantially.
102
Tali ,\- Her message is simple:
fugimagi
A little group which speaks about peace can be
killed, but no one can kill ten million
Columbans who speak about peace.

Tali Magimagi
10
3

A story from Fiji
A PAIR OF BLACK SHOES
by Satendra Nandan
That Father was too fond of yaqona was known to every-
one in the village except, apparently, him. Mother continually
grumbled that if his old veins were ripped, yaqona would drip in-
stead of blood. Father's skin had shriveled up like the bark of the
raimree that stood old and ageless behind one of our bures. Noth-
iPg, however, would deter Father from his 'grog', as the muddy
:;tuffwas popularly and warmly spoken of in the village.
-The Queen drink grog, don she? was his irrefutable re-
ply.
It was true: whenever the Queen or any member of the Royal
Family visited Fiji, the Yaqona Ceremony was one of the highlights,
despite what some of the British journalists wrote about the nation's
national beverage. " It wasn't the argument, it was the English that defeated
Besides, Father was employed at the airport. That was a
unique honour-for the first time an indentured labourer had been
1l given a job at the Nadi International Airport. It was 'Satisfying' for
· the whole village and Father, sometimes in an extravagant mood,
l
.j
claimed this was a 'first' in the whole world! The villagers started
calling him Boss. Only Mother remained unimpressed.
Our home, which consisted of three bures, was about a mile
l from the airport on top of a red hill. Every evening as a Qantas jet
landed, Father would get on his bicycle and rush to the airport. He
:
.. would return after abourtwo hours with a few Qantas spoons, cheese
for the chickens, a couple of toilet rolls to wrap eggs in for Lum
Hop's cafe, and usually some pictures of air hostesses which were
subsequently stuck to the bamboo walls of Father's bure between
some brilliantly coloured portraits of Hindu gods and goddesses.
(It was several years later, when my brother inherited the honour,
that we discovered Father was the sole and chief person in charge
of the international airport's rubbish tip.)
Tali Magimagi 71
A PAIR OF BLACK SHOES
On the way frorq the airport, Father would buy a bundle f
kava roots from Lum Hop's cafe. His arrival home was always
announced by Kallu, our dog. The village would ring with the·
pounding ofyaqona till long after midnight. Birbal, the pundit from
India, often joined in. Their conversation ranged from the Ramayan
to the shining silver birds, the aeroplanes. Birbal quoted from the
holy book to show the idea of the aircraft was first mooted by the
great Hindu sages. At this Father would serve (only himself) another
bowl of cool kava, after stirring it passionately. No one knew when
the grog session gave over.
At eleven Father- would awake and arise and by twelve he
would have his breakfast. Rarely could he be persuaded to go down
to the river for a bath: his legs looked like dalo uprooted days ago.
When Mother got furious, he would say:
-Look the coo/umber. He bright and white. He never
bathing-he to!' me hisself The memsahib don't trouble him: she
from oozland , you see.
Mother. She didn't know a word of it. Father, much to his
advantage, had picked up his language at the airport. And he used it
to telling effect against his wife.. Whenever, wherever he saw me,
he would nod gravely and say: ,
see.
-English hard labour boy. But meselflearningfasting.fast.
Boy you reading more and much. With Eng/is you go oozland, you
Then from his tobacco-stained pocket, he would bring out
a crumpled page with which I had seen Lum Hop wrap bread, and
say:
-Tek this grat noosepaper and read boy. Tell me worl
noose. What happenin in India? Gandhi king now? He gret man too
much reading he done. You read, boy, no look see me.
How could you tell Father that Gandhi died years ago,
especially when Rama was still alive according to Birba.
***********
72 Tali Magimagi
 A PAIR OF BLACK SHOES

I think it was his job at the airport that made him send me to
school. He earned enough to pay the fees and buy my books. Eggs It caused me hopeless humiliation. On special school occasions, I
he had for his yaqona. Everything else he needed grew on the farm t Father's anny boots with a few pairs of socks and ewspapers
pu on · f pa1r of shoes!
on which my elder brother was now working. stuffed in the toes. And now the promise o my own .
\
School years passed like planes across the blue sky. Before That night when Iwent to sleep, a new day was already breaking
· long I was in the throes of preparing for the Senior Cambridge- over the dark, gaunt mountains. \
that ubiquitous examination that followed the Bible and the English
Language everywhere. Night and day I wrestled with Dudley ***********
Stamp's World Geography and Brett's History of the British Empire.
One night as Icame out of my bure, a shaft of light hit my eyes. I Witthis added impetus, Iswatted like one possessed: in
saw the door of Father's bure ajar. Seated next to him was mother- the bus in the school toilet, while grazing cows, almost eve here
a most unusal sight. I knew at once that some matter of great import , h re A week before the examination started, Iwas m the
and ·
anyw e 1 ·
was being discussed. Birbal, with his toadlike belly, was, as usual, . of a delirious fever. I felt as if an octopus was exp onng my
perched on a sack of rice looking very smug and snug. I could just gbn ·th ' ts clammy tentacles Mother went to the village temple:
ramsw1 1 · .
catch his words. a new red, holy flag went up on a ba boo pole. VI_llage wo en
-Yes, yest, Bossie: Rama had his sandals. He leaving them came and whispered mantras in mothers ears. Ma ahta, our FIJian
behind when he gonna into exile. A noblest idea-already in neighbour from the koro across the river, came wlth_ bananas a_nd
Ramayana ... coconuts. She talked only to mother and went back With lots ofnce
The rest I couldn't hear for Father sneezed rather loudly. I and tea leaves. Sometimes she came and stood by my bamboo bed
looked at the groggy moon: next to it a few stars were flickering and stared at me. Her eyes were pools of yaqona. A tearr t o
like street lights of a distant city I had seen in pictures. I went ba k would trickle down her gnarled face. She had been the midwife
to Dudley Stamp which looked more forbidding than ever. when I was born. h. b' 1
Soon afterwards Father was marching towards my bure Three days before the exam, Father put me o lcyc e
when there was a loud howl: he had apparently stepped on Kallu's and pushed me to the airport medical center. The Vumwat showed
tail. Sorry. sorryfoolis doggy, he mumbled as he entered my bure. great concern and gave me a few tablets and a lemonade bottle full .·
''"' · '
;-.·.

He sat on the kerosene drum and gazed at the fat books on my table. of curd-like mixture. . .
His eyes were luminous like pools of light. I knew he was d eply -Fins the lot boy. Too good for you, he smiled, showmg - :.'·

happy. The kerosene lamp burned with a single flame; a few foolish his missing teeth. .
moths were lying on its oily edges. With the odour of grog from his Father immediately promised him a rooster. At _this the
nostrils he told me that the family had decided to buy me a pair of Vuniwai, who until now was glued to the chair, got up and Jabbed a
shoes if I passed the examination. With that message he walked out needle into my bony buttocks. .
of my bure as if he had been walking out of a temple. It did the trick, at least that's what father claimed. Mother
A dream was coming true. My first pair of shoes! I tried to and Birbal had other explanations for my sudden recovery. I was .
read Brett's History but my mind skipped the pages like a stone on well enough to do the examination.
the river's face. I'd always wanted a pair of shoes. I was the only
village boy, without shoes, who went to a school in the town. ***********

T<Jii .Afugimagi 73
Tnli Mn<7imar!i
 74
··..: -·:. ""· : ,-.: . ·'·. .·· .- .. ·--;-·
 A PAIR OF BLACK SHOES
One warm and sunless day as I was twisting the tail of t!1e
bullocks while ploughing, Isaw Father gesticulating towards me
from the top of the hill. He was frantically waving something like a
newspaper and chasing my brother towards me.
Ihurried home, scrambling up the hill like a crab from a
keti. Before Icould reach him, he threw the paper towards me say-
ing:
-Look, see the Fiji tern page at.
On page eight of the Fiji Tzmes, the results were announced.
For the first time I was seeing my name in print. I was overwhelmed
and rushed into my bure. Only two candidates from my school had
passed and Iwas one of them. It did not matter even if we had got
the 'royal division', as the principal was to put it later in his annual
report.
Father scolded my brother to run and plough the field. He
asked me to wash up at once. Iput on my pink shirt, brown shorts
and with Father, rode 'double-bank' on his bicycle. After a lot of
panting, we finally arrived at Lalla 's shoe shop on the edge of the
airport. Lalla, it appeared, knew Father. He was enormously fat,
with an overfed belly, and an undernourished face; and extremely
hairy-hair everywhere except on his piebald head. His little nos-
trils were clogged with thick hair and he seemed to breathe with
great difficulty, reminding me of a bullock in the sullen heat.
-Mahajan, shoe for this boy, Father announced. Lalla
looked at me and commanded .
-Seated boy. Saw me your foots. Big !f .. .foots, eh? He
breathed heavily. He brought out two huge shining bl ck shoes.
They gl istened in the slight darkness within the shop, and he asked
me to put them on.
-Fit , filum fit, Mahajan. Father remarked.
-For you. Boss. price wanly three ponds. Lalla muttered,
scratching his sweaty left armpit.
-That plenty much cash . Father said and got up to go.
-Wokay, two ponds for you, Boss. Lalla persuaded, shak-
ing Father's hand.
Tali Magimugi 75
A P.HH ()f ." BLACK SlfOf:'S
Father gave him a pound and promised two roosters. Lalla
looked pleased and wrapped the shoes for me. He also gave me a
pair of nylon socks free.
I walked all the way, carrying my shoes carefully. When I
arrived home, the sun was setting over the sea . There was a golden
lining in every cloud which, surprisingly, I hadn't noticed before.
Mother was sitting alone under the raintree, its leaves had
closed like green oysters in the humid heat.
I went straight into my bure. The kerosene lamp had been
lit, a few blundering moths were living to die. Iplaced the shoes on
the table and then, with the comer of my shirt, began to wipe the
dust that had surreptitiously settled on them . With a bit of spit, they
shone again.
At night I put the shoes on Brett's History. They glowed
black and beautiful as idols. Quietly I crept next to my brother to
sleep.
Only he wasn't asleep.
-Leave your shoes. hack when you going oversea, you
getting the scholarsheep, he added as an after-thought and pointed
to an O.H . M.S. brown envelope on the table. I didn't reply.
Soon he was snoring like a peasant.
***********
Years later as I sat in the Auckland autumn with a glass of
beer, reading Time, I chanced upon a little item printed in italics. It
told the story of a young boy in a village. When the journalist had
asked him about his happiest day, the boy had replied:
-When my hrother died.
-Why! enquired the man disbelievingly.
-Because I could wear his shoes. answered the boy,
smiling.
It was then that I sat down to write my first letter to my ·
brother, although words like waves lay between us.
And Father, I'd heard, had died miles away in another .
country, amongst another people.
The beer in the glass had lost its autumnal glow anJ tasteJ
almost like yaqona, only i nfinitely more bitter.

A story from Fiji
A PECULIAR PICNIC
by Frances Pene
Term Three was nearly over and everyone was looking
forward to the annual picnic. This year they had decided to climb to
the top of Mount Tubu . There, they would have their picnic and rest
before coming down and swimming in the pools at the bottom.
Picnic Day came, a beautiful, clear sunny day. The children
met at the school and clambered onto the truck that was to take
them close to the mountain. Miss Bula, two other teachers and a
few parents climbed in after them. The truck started up and off they
went, rattling and bumping over the rough road .
One hour later they were rushing up the mountain track.
Three hours later they were puffing and panting and then suddenly
they were there-at the top! For a while they simply lay on the
grass, getting their breath back. Then they began to look at the won-
derful view spread below them. In the distance the sparkling sea
reflected the deep blue sky, while all around and below them, the
tops of the trees looked like a green sea.
After a while, naturally, they began to think of the picnic. A
mat was spread, a tablecloth was laid on top, and then they put out
a
the food they had brought. What mouth-watering sight! So many
different dishes and, right in the middle, an enormous watermelon.
The children had taken turns to carry it up the mountainside. They
quickly sat down around the mat, their class captain said grace and
hands shot out to load paper plates.
But then, something very peculiar happened! A strange hum-
ming noise filled the air and the watermelon began to quiver. All
those eager hands fell back. The children stared at the watermelon.
"It's rude to stare!" came a big booming voice. But still
they stared for the voice had come from the watern1elon!
"Before you stuff your tununies with food," it went on , "you
must think what you are stuffing them with. You are what you eat,
you know. Let us have our say, and then you can go ahead."
"Why wait?" muttered the fattest boy in the class, looking
hungrily at the /ova-cooked pork in front of him .
8 Tali Magimagi
A PECULIAR PICNIC
He was just about to help himself when the pork wobbled
and commanded, "Stop! Are you aware that animal fat is bad for
you? If you eat a lot of it, you can expect to get highly unpleasant
results, like heart disease or high blood pressure. Ugh! So remem-
ber this:
Leave the fat and eat the lean
And with it something fresh and green."
·"Yes, yes," came a bright clear voice. The dish of rourou
seemed to sparkle as it spoke.
"Be sure to eat a lot of me;
You all need daily Vitamin C. "
"What's Vitamin C?" chorused the children.
The clear voice of rourou replied:
"My goodness me- it is the source
Of healthy teeth and gums, of course.
And if you have a nasty gash,
With me you'll heal in just a flash!"
"Don't exaggerate, Rourou," boomed Watermelon. "But it's
certainly true that you need vitamins. They stop you getting nasty
coughs and all sorts of other illnesses. In other words:
Eat your greens and fruit and cheese,
Butter and milk; for all of these
Will keep you healthy, bright and fit,
Ready for anything- GO FOR IT!"
"That's all very well," came a strong voice, "but you won't
get far if you don't eat me and my friends here as well."
The children turned to look at the dish.of chicken.
Tali Magimagi 9

A PECULIAR PICNIC
"Let me introduce you to my family of proteins," said Baked
Chicken. "We'll make sure that you grow up strong and straight:
Eggs and fish and beans and peas,
Milk and crabs and good fresh cheese,
Seaweed too, and fresh lean meat.
Now you know, get started- eat'"
"Not so fast!" roared Dalo. "Don 't forget us. You'll be need-
ing us carbohydrates to give you the energy to get down the moun-
tain and enjoy your swim. We'll warm you up afterwards, too. These
mountain pools can be very cold. So, listen:
Cassava and yam, dalo and rice,
Breadfruit , potato: but heres some advice-
If its bread you want to eat ,
Go for the brown- with good whole wheat,
For in your tummies, its been found,
Fibre makes the wheels go round. "
10
Tali Magimagi
A J:'ECULIAR J:'JCNIC
The children giggled. They had almost forgotten how hun-
gry they were. What a peculiar picnic this was turning out to be.
They looked around at the food, wondering what would speak next.
Then they noticed that there were some packets and bottles of soft
drinks huddled together on the edge of the tablecloth. Some of their
favourite snacks and soft drinks were there.
"Yes, look at us," they invited. "See how tasty and crunchy
and spicy and sweet we look."
The children agreed and were about to reach out: but the
stern voice of Watermelon stopped them.
. "Eat that junk instead of us
And we 'II kick up a great big fuss!
Do you know what s in that stuff?
Additives and chemicals-[ do not bluff;
Artificial this and artificial that,
s
Little that natural or I'll eat my hat!
They tempt you with their pretty looks
But really, they're a bunch of crooks I"
The class captain stood up, picked up all the bottles and
snacks and put them in his bag. "I'll take these back. Do you all
agree?"
The others nodded, all except one, who said hopefully, "Per-
haps we can have them after our swim."
"You can, if you like,"said the class captain. "But, if I'm
thirsty, I'm going to have fresh water and, ifl want something sweet;
I'll have some fruit or sugar-cane. The sugar in them is good for
you and it doesn't rot your teeth."
"Quite right," said Watermelon. "Now, you've all been very
patient and you deserve a nourishing feast. Just remember not to eat
too much of one thing. If you've been listening carefully, you'll
have understood that there are three different kinds of food that do
different jobs for you. So make sure you eat some of each."
As the children started to put out their hands again for the
food, Watermelon continued, "One last thing. Please congratulate
Tali Magimagi II
/1 rt.CULIAK rtCNIC:

whoever cooked us. Most of us are baked or steamed. That helps to

keep all the goodness in. Some of us have been fried, but the cook
used just enough oil or butter or ghee. Too much fat leads to trouble. I
won't get into details now, as I don 't want to put you off your
food. Ask your teacher at school next week. Right. Are you ready?
On you marks, get set, GO!" ·
And once again, the hands shot out.

12 Tali Magimagi