The Painful Land Issue in Kawaliap

There was a time when life in Kawaliap was peaceful. People lived together like one family. Children played freely from one side of the village to another. Families built homes wherever there was space. Men entered the forest to cut building materials without fear. Women made gardens on fertile land and shared food with relatives and neighbours. Hunters walked through the bush together, and no one questioned who owned which part of the forest. People depended on each other, and the village lived with unity and respect.

In those days, land was never a problem.

But slowly, things began to change.

The land issue in Kawaliap started when some families began denying other families access to the forest. People who once freely entered the bush to collect timber, sago leaves, firewood, and other building materials were suddenly told they had no right to enter certain areas. Some victims would spend days cutting posts and timber deep in the forest, only to return later and find the materials chopped up and destroyed. The pain and humiliation were too much to bear.

What was once shared land became a source of anger and division.

Because of these disputes, many people were forced to take their cases to the Lorengau District Court to determine who the legitimate landowners were. Families that had lived peacefully together for generations suddenly stood against each other in courtrooms. Small sub-clans started separating themselves from larger clans, each claiming they were the true and rightful landowners. Old stories, family histories, and traditional boundaries became weapons used against one another.

The community slowly broke apart.

The land issue became even worse when some landowners used land ownership as political power. During ward councilor elections, certain individuals used their status as landowners to gain influence. When some of them lost elections, bitterness remained in their hearts. Instead of supporting development for the good of the whole community, they blocked projects from taking place. Roads, aid posts, water supplies, classrooms, and other government services could only be built on the land of the duly elected ward councilor or people connected to him.

As a result, development in Kawaliap came to a halt.

Today, the village lives with a painful reality. Most people in Kawaliap are not recognized as landowners but only as land users. Only a small number of people are considered legitimate landowners. There is now a deep division between those who are employed and financially stable—many of whom are land users—and those who remain in the village as traditional landowners.

For some landowners, land has become a weapon of control.

Even though a person may proudly write “Kawaliap” as their village on government documents, school forms, or job applications, deep inside, they know they are not fully accepted back home. They may have been born there, raised there, and carry the blood of the community, but they still feel like strangers on their own land.

This painful reality affects everyday life.

Anyone who wants to build a decent home must build only on their own clan land, no matter how small the space is. Families are forced to squeeze houses close together in tiny portions of land. Even collecting firewood has become difficult because people are expected to collect it only from their own forest areas.

The freedom that once existed in the village is disappearing.

People can still walk around the village, attend cultural ceremonies, laugh with relatives, and take part in community events. But deep inside, many feel trapped. It is like living in a prison without walls. The body is free to move, but the heart carries fear, rejection, and sadness.

Because of this suffering, many people have left Kawaliap.

Some families moved to Lorengau town to start new lives away from the tension and humiliation. Others settled in different provinces. Many no longer dream about returning home because home no longer feels peaceful. To them, it is better to struggle somewhere else than to live under constant pressure and division in the village where they were born.

The saddest part is that Kawaliap was once a place filled with unity, laughter, and belonging. Today, land disputes have created pain between brothers, cousins, and neighbours. Relationships have been destroyed. Trust has disappeared. Development has stopped. The younger generation is growing up in a divided community where land is seen not as a blessing, but as a source of suffering.

Yet despite all this pain, hope still remains.

Many people still believe that one day Kawaliap can become peaceful again. They hope that landowners and land users will learn to sit together, talk honestly, forgive one another, and rebuild the unity that once existed. They dream of a future where every person in Kawaliap feels accepted, respected, and free to call the village their true home again.

The people are tired of division. They are tired of pain. Deep in their hearts, they long for the day when Kawaliap will no longer be known for land disputes, but for peace, love, and togetherness once again.