Last week was perhaps the longest and most physically and emotionally draining week of my life. Not since 2004 when my beloved father, Benjamin Bhagwan, my close friend Tui Ravai and Fiji's (and the Pacific's) greatest statesman, Ratu Sir Kamisese Mara died within weeks of each other. Last Friday I buried my uncle, Narendra Bhagwan, who loved me like the son he never had, and the following day I buried my mentor and close friend Alipate Mateitoga, who was the older brother I never had.
My uncle Narendra, worked in Morris Hedstrom for close to forty years, rising through the ranks to become the first local General Manager/CEO of the company. At the time of his death he was the acting Operations Manager of the Methodist Church's Trust Holdings, a member of the Church's Standing Committee and had served as Chief Steward of the Indian Division. One of the tributes given at his funeral was by the Hon. Pita Nacuva, former minister for Health and ousted Speaker of the House of Representatives former student of the then Suva Methodist Boys School and Lelean Memorial School. Mr. Nacuva spoke of the legacy of honesty, discipline and service instilled in him during his school years, by Narendra's father (my grandfather), the late Master J.S. Bhagwan.
In contrast, my brother Alipate (I call him brother because he was the only person outside my immediate family to call my mother, “mum” and not be reprimanded with a steely glare) was still in his prime at fifty-two. Even after his funeral and burial, many of his family and friends are still in shock. “Pate” as he was known by family, friends and colleagues had worked at Cable and Wireless (FINTEL) and Radio Fiji and was one of the few who were in William Parkinson's core team when FM96 was started. He was part of Australian Channel Nine's original “Fiji TV” team before the 1987 coup scuttled plans for the early introduction of television in Fiji. He joined the Hans Seidel Foundation based at 56 Domain Road which was to become the Fiji National Video Centre and is now the Ministry of Information's Film and Television Unit, where for many years he was the Prinicipal Information Officer and the driving force behind the Dateline Fiji, Voqa Ni Davui and Sitara programmes. Many of Fiji's television camera operators, producers and editors were inducted into the industry by Pate, who at the time of his death was the Acting Director of Information. A musician and recording engineer in his own right, Pate is also missed by the Fiji music industry as well as the JICA Alumni where he had served as its president for four years.
Like Pate, my uncle Naren had many acquaintances, but chose his friends carefully. It is only those closest to them who will really know what our country has lost through the passing away of these two sons of Fiji. Their compassion and genuine love and understanding for others was not advertised, known only by those who experienced it and those who chose to see it. Their humility was often taken advantage of as was their dedication to service, by those who view kindness as a weakness.
As I sat at home, with my eyes puffy from tears shed, and tried to express my thoughts, I found a story that may serve as an example of on the legacy of service and humility left behind by these two gentle men:
A few years ago a group of salesmen went to a sales convention in another town.
They had assured their wives that they would be home in plenty of time for Friday night's dinner. In their rush, with tickets and briefcases, one of these salesmen inadvertently kicked over a table which held a display of apples.
Apples flew everywhere. Without stopping or looking back, they all managed to reach the plane in time for their nearly-missed boarding.
All but one!
He paused, took a deep breath, got in touch with his feelings, and experienced a twinge of compassion for the girl whose apple stand had been overturned.
He told his friends to go on without him, waved good-bye, told one of them to call his wife when they arrived at their home destination and explain his taking a later flight. Then he returned to the terminal where the apples were all over the terminal floor.
He was glad he did. The 16-year-old girl was totally blind! She was softly crying, tears running down her cheeks in frustration, and at the same time helplessly groping for her spilled produce as the crowd swirled about her; no one stopping and no one to care for her plight.
The salesman knelt on the floor with her, gathered up the apples, put them back on the table and helped organize her display. As he did this, he noticed that many of them had become battered and bruised; these he set aside in another basket.
When he had finished, he pulled out his wallet and said to the girl, 'Here, please take this $40 for the damage we did. Are you okay?' She nodded through her tears. He continued on with, 'I hope we didn't spoil your day too badly.'
As the salesman started to walk away, the bewildered blind girl called out to him, 'Mister.....' He paused and turned to look back into those blind eyes. She continued,
'Are you Jesus?'
He stopped in mid-stride, and he wondered. Then slowly he made his way to catch the later flight with that question burning and bouncing about in his soul: 'Are you Jesus?' Do people mistake you for Jesus? That's our destiny, is it not? To be so much like Jesus that people cannot tell the difference as we live and interact with a world that is blind to His love, life and grace.
If we claim to know Him, we should live, walk and act as He would. Knowing Him is more than simply quoting Scripture and going to church. It's actually living the Word as life unfolds day to day.
You are the apple of His eye even though we, too, have been bruised by a fall. He stopped what He was doing and picked up you and me on a hill called Calvary and paid in full for our damaged fruit.
May the rest of your week be blessed with love, light and peace.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
PLANTING THE SEEDS OF INTEGRITY AND HOPE
It was wonderful to see so many people at the Vodafone FBCL Concert of Hope in Suva's Albert Park on Saturday. Fiji TV's support of the event also made it possible for those who were in the flood affected areas (with electricity and working television sets) to see and listen to the music but also see the display of solidarity for them. The $89,000 raised will go a long way to helping rebuild the lives all but washed away in the floods.
My week has been darkened by the death of two father-figures in my life. On Saturday I heard the news of the untimely death of the acting Director of Information, Alipate Mateitoga, who during his time as head of the Ministry of Information's Film and TV Unit was not just a pioneer in television in Fiji but also a mentor to many of the men and women in the fledgling television industry. On Monday evening, my uncle and former CEO/General Manager of Morris Hedstrom, Narendra Bhagwan passed away after a short illness. I will pay tribute to these two small giants among men in my column next week.
This week, with schools forced to start, despite many being damaged by floods, being evacuation centres and many children still without homes, food and even water, the academic year is finally underway. On Monday morning I preached at the dedication service for the teachers and staff for the Methodist Schools in Toorak – Annesley and Suva Methodist Primary Schools and Dudley Intermediate and High Schools. Preaching from the story of Jesus and the little children (Matthew 19:13-15) I urged the teachers to remain focussed on the needs of the children.
To illustrate my point I shared with them a well known story of how small seeds when planted and nurtured can grow to become a huge forest.
It is the story of Elzéard Bouffier, a 55-year-old widower who lived in a French village in 1910, surrounded by poverty and despair. So he did something; he collected thousands of acorns and planted them throughout the area. When they took root, he cultivated beeches. When they become saplings, he planted birches. One day, amidst the death and devastation of World War I, a mysterious grey mist appeared on the horizon. It was the oaks of 1910, below them the adolescent beeches, and below them the tiny birch seedlings. Bouffier kept planting, and at the end of World War II, French environmentalists announced that a "natural forest" had "mysteriously" sprung up, flourishing amidst its barren surroundings. But the story doesn't end there; his forest started a chain reaction. Water flowed in brooks that had dried up. The wind scattered seeds, and willows, rushes, meadows and gardens sprang up. New people came to live there, bringing with them hope and prosperity. Elzéard Bouffier found acorns, planted them, and God did the rest.
I received a similar story about seeds from Maria Koto of Nadi,who is a regular reader of this column. This particular one is about sowing the seed of integrity:
A successful Christian business man was growing old and knew it was time to
choose a successor to take over the business.
Instead of choosing one of his directors or his children, he decided to do
something different. He called all the young executives in his company
together.
He said, "It is time for me to step down and choose the next CEO. I have
decided to choose one of you." The young executives were shocked, but the
boss continued. "I am going to give each one of you a SEED today - one very
special SEED. I want you to plant the seed, water it, and come back here
one year from today with what you have grown from the seed I have given you.
I will then judge the plants that you bring, and the one I choose will be
the next CEO."
One man, named Jim, was there that day and he, like the others, received a
seed. He went home and excitedly, told his wife the story.
She helped him get a pot, soil and compost and he planted the seed.
Everyday he would water it and watch to see if it had grown.
After about three weeks, some of the other executives began to talk about
their seeds and the plants that were beginning to grow. Jim kept checking
his seed, but nothing ever grew. Three weeks, four weeks, five weeks went
by, still nothing. By now, others were talking about their plants, but Jim
didn't have a plant and he felt like a failure.
Six months went by - still nothing in Jim's pot. He just knew he had killed
his seed. Everyone else had trees and tall plants, but he had nothing. Jim
didn't say anything to his colleagues, however. He just kept watering and
fertilizing the soil - he so wanted the seed to grow.
A year finally went by and all the young executives of the company brought
their plants to the CEO for inspection. Jim told his wife that he wasn't
going to take an empty pot. But she asked him to be honest about what
happened. Jim felt sick at his stomach, it was going to be the most
embarrassing moment of his life, but he knew his wife was right. He took
his empty pot to the board room. When Jim arrived, he was amazed at the
variety of plants grown by the other executives. They were beautiful - in
all shapes and sizes. Jim put his empty pot on the floor and many of his
colleagues laughed, a few felt sorry for him!
When the CEO arrived, he surveyed the room and greeted his young executives.
Jim just tried to hide in the back. "My, what great plants, trees, and
flowers you have grown," said the CEO. "Today one of you will be appointed
the next CEO!" All of a sudden, the CEO spotted Jim at the back of the room
with his empty pot. He ordered the financial director to bring him to the
front. Jim was terrified. He thought, "The CEO knows I'm a failure! Maybe
he will have me fired!" When Jim got to the front, the CEO asked him what
had happened to his seed - Jim told him the story.
The CEO asked everyone to sit down except Jim. He looked at Jim, and then
announced to the young executives, "Behold your next Chief Executive! His
name is Jim!" Jim couldn't believe it. Jim couldn't even grow his seed.
How could he be the new CEO the others said?
Then the CEO said, "One year ago today, I gave everyone in this room a seed.
I told you to take the seed, plant it, water it, and bring it back to me
today.
But I gave you all boiled seeds; they were dead - it was not possible for
them to grow. All of you, except Jim, have brought me trees and plants and
flowers.
When you found that the seed would not grow, you substituted another seed
for the one I gave you.. Jim was the only one with the courage and honesty
to bring me a pot with my seed in it. Therefore, he is the one who will be
the new Chief Executive!"
If you plant honesty, you will reap trust
If you plant goodness, you will reap friends
If you plant humility, you will reap greatness
If you plant perseverance, you will reap contentment
If you plant consideration, you will reap perspective
If you plant hard work, you will reap success
If you plant forgiveness, you will reap reconciliation
If you plant faith in Christ, you will reap a harvest
So, be careful what you plant now; it will determine what you will reap later.
Two thousand years ago Paul wrote to the church at Galatia the same story
but with fewer words, "What you sow, so shall you reap". (Gal. 6:7)
We are grass that will wither and die but the incorruptible seed of Gods
Word will live forever - sow it daily into the life of your family! (1 Peter
1: 23 - 25)
May the rest of your week be blessed with love, light and peace.
My week has been darkened by the death of two father-figures in my life. On Saturday I heard the news of the untimely death of the acting Director of Information, Alipate Mateitoga, who during his time as head of the Ministry of Information's Film and TV Unit was not just a pioneer in television in Fiji but also a mentor to many of the men and women in the fledgling television industry. On Monday evening, my uncle and former CEO/General Manager of Morris Hedstrom, Narendra Bhagwan passed away after a short illness. I will pay tribute to these two small giants among men in my column next week.
This week, with schools forced to start, despite many being damaged by floods, being evacuation centres and many children still without homes, food and even water, the academic year is finally underway. On Monday morning I preached at the dedication service for the teachers and staff for the Methodist Schools in Toorak – Annesley and Suva Methodist Primary Schools and Dudley Intermediate and High Schools. Preaching from the story of Jesus and the little children (Matthew 19:13-15) I urged the teachers to remain focussed on the needs of the children.
To illustrate my point I shared with them a well known story of how small seeds when planted and nurtured can grow to become a huge forest.
It is the story of Elzéard Bouffier, a 55-year-old widower who lived in a French village in 1910, surrounded by poverty and despair. So he did something; he collected thousands of acorns and planted them throughout the area. When they took root, he cultivated beeches. When they become saplings, he planted birches. One day, amidst the death and devastation of World War I, a mysterious grey mist appeared on the horizon. It was the oaks of 1910, below them the adolescent beeches, and below them the tiny birch seedlings. Bouffier kept planting, and at the end of World War II, French environmentalists announced that a "natural forest" had "mysteriously" sprung up, flourishing amidst its barren surroundings. But the story doesn't end there; his forest started a chain reaction. Water flowed in brooks that had dried up. The wind scattered seeds, and willows, rushes, meadows and gardens sprang up. New people came to live there, bringing with them hope and prosperity. Elzéard Bouffier found acorns, planted them, and God did the rest.
I received a similar story about seeds from Maria Koto of Nadi,who is a regular reader of this column. This particular one is about sowing the seed of integrity:
A successful Christian business man was growing old and knew it was time to
choose a successor to take over the business.
Instead of choosing one of his directors or his children, he decided to do
something different. He called all the young executives in his company
together.
He said, "It is time for me to step down and choose the next CEO. I have
decided to choose one of you." The young executives were shocked, but the
boss continued. "I am going to give each one of you a SEED today - one very
special SEED. I want you to plant the seed, water it, and come back here
one year from today with what you have grown from the seed I have given you.
I will then judge the plants that you bring, and the one I choose will be
the next CEO."
One man, named Jim, was there that day and he, like the others, received a
seed. He went home and excitedly, told his wife the story.
She helped him get a pot, soil and compost and he planted the seed.
Everyday he would water it and watch to see if it had grown.
After about three weeks, some of the other executives began to talk about
their seeds and the plants that were beginning to grow. Jim kept checking
his seed, but nothing ever grew. Three weeks, four weeks, five weeks went
by, still nothing. By now, others were talking about their plants, but Jim
didn't have a plant and he felt like a failure.
Six months went by - still nothing in Jim's pot. He just knew he had killed
his seed. Everyone else had trees and tall plants, but he had nothing. Jim
didn't say anything to his colleagues, however. He just kept watering and
fertilizing the soil - he so wanted the seed to grow.
A year finally went by and all the young executives of the company brought
their plants to the CEO for inspection. Jim told his wife that he wasn't
going to take an empty pot. But she asked him to be honest about what
happened. Jim felt sick at his stomach, it was going to be the most
embarrassing moment of his life, but he knew his wife was right. He took
his empty pot to the board room. When Jim arrived, he was amazed at the
variety of plants grown by the other executives. They were beautiful - in
all shapes and sizes. Jim put his empty pot on the floor and many of his
colleagues laughed, a few felt sorry for him!
When the CEO arrived, he surveyed the room and greeted his young executives.
Jim just tried to hide in the back. "My, what great plants, trees, and
flowers you have grown," said the CEO. "Today one of you will be appointed
the next CEO!" All of a sudden, the CEO spotted Jim at the back of the room
with his empty pot. He ordered the financial director to bring him to the
front. Jim was terrified. He thought, "The CEO knows I'm a failure! Maybe
he will have me fired!" When Jim got to the front, the CEO asked him what
had happened to his seed - Jim told him the story.
The CEO asked everyone to sit down except Jim. He looked at Jim, and then
announced to the young executives, "Behold your next Chief Executive! His
name is Jim!" Jim couldn't believe it. Jim couldn't even grow his seed.
How could he be the new CEO the others said?
Then the CEO said, "One year ago today, I gave everyone in this room a seed.
I told you to take the seed, plant it, water it, and bring it back to me
today.
But I gave you all boiled seeds; they were dead - it was not possible for
them to grow. All of you, except Jim, have brought me trees and plants and
flowers.
When you found that the seed would not grow, you substituted another seed
for the one I gave you.. Jim was the only one with the courage and honesty
to bring me a pot with my seed in it. Therefore, he is the one who will be
the new Chief Executive!"
If you plant honesty, you will reap trust
If you plant goodness, you will reap friends
If you plant humility, you will reap greatness
If you plant perseverance, you will reap contentment
If you plant consideration, you will reap perspective
If you plant hard work, you will reap success
If you plant forgiveness, you will reap reconciliation
If you plant faith in Christ, you will reap a harvest
So, be careful what you plant now; it will determine what you will reap later.
Two thousand years ago Paul wrote to the church at Galatia the same story
but with fewer words, "What you sow, so shall you reap". (Gal. 6:7)
We are grass that will wither and die but the incorruptible seed of Gods
Word will live forever - sow it daily into the life of your family! (1 Peter
1: 23 - 25)
May the rest of your week be blessed with love, light and peace.
On life, love and spreading hope through music
This morning Fiji wakes up to a new world. A world where anything is possible and even old dogs can learn new tricks. We awake to the manifestation of the mantra “Yes We Can.” We awake to a world with a new member of that cadre known as world leaders. To a world with US President Obama.
Some of us must have slept through the inauguration of the 44th (and 1st non white) President of the United States of America. Some of us may have been to “grog-doped” to comprehend what we saw on television. Some of us may still not have any electricity or our televisions (and the rest of our possessions) have been ruined by recent flooding, to notice. Some of us couldn't really be bothered as we worry about where our next meal will come from and how we will send our children to school next week.
As a nation we know all too well that one man can make a difference. Well one man and a group of heavily armed men with him. For us the mantra is not so much “Yes we can,” as “yes you should.”
However, our family celebrated the inauguration of the first US President to flash the “hang loose” sign to the media (thumb and little finger extended from the fist). Well my son and I did by getting the Obama-haircut. It was a momentous occasion for my son to bravely sit still as the barber gave him the “Number 3 Cut” with a pair of electric clippers.
My son, Francisco-Xavier has also been preparing himself to donate towards one of the many flood appeals. The Indian Division of the Methodist Church has been working to collect donations with the education of children affected by the flood in mind. We have already received pledges of financial contributions from our Fellowships and friends overseas. The Church is focusing on school books, uniforms and where possible, school fees, to enable children to attend school this term. At this stage all Francisco has to offer is some of his toys and books. I have assured him that they will go to a kindergarten where lots of children can enjoy them.
His reward, and a pre-birthday present for his soon to be 3 year-old sister, will be to watch their favourite MIC stars Nasoni and Eroni perform at the Radio Fiji-organised flood appeal Concert of Hope on Saturday (24th January). Having friends who work at Broadcasting House I was able to get a look at the list of artists who have given up their time to provide not only some great entertainment but the musical backdrop to the opportunity for the public to give some of there “spare” change. For many of us for whom the words “spare change” have ceased to hold any meaning, performances by some of Fiji's best bands and singers will be compensation for opening our clenched fists to let those precious saqamolis and hard earned green, orange, purple, blue or even red notes to drop into the collection bucket/box.
Groups such as Jeriko, Divine,Bad Boys East,Carpe Diem, Cagi Mudre ni Delairoro, Eagles Wings, Malumu ni tobu ke Navaukura, First Tribe and Dokidoki and One2Eight promise great entertainment as do vocalists Seru Serevi, Ofa Ali,Ronald Jai, Jet Shiri Krishna, Sekove Raikoro and Peni Seniyasi.
The RFMF Band will also be performing, although whethwe Major Leweni will come out of entertainment retirement to lead them or at least perform with the RFMF meke group is as yet unknown. Other dances groups so far confirmed are the Tiare Dance, Makareta Dance, Fiji Multi-Ethnic Cultural Centre, Young Bloodz and Sharon Chandra groups.
While my children are looking forward to their MIC heroes, the performance that I am eagerly anticipating is Ken Janson and the Hearts with Jazz-Legend Tom Mawi.
Mawi, who was critically ill last year, is back inform. I met up with him and Ken Janson last week to catch up and see how the “godfathers of Fiji music” were doing.
Mawi shared his experiences with me. What struck me the most was that he chose not to dwell on the illness, apart from the basic facts. He chose rather to express his gratitude. He was grateful for the work of the doctors and staff at the Suva Private Hospital and the many well wishers and visitors who came to see him in hospital or telephoned. He expressed his thanks for the prayers said for him and the miracle of healing he experienced.
But for Mawi, the other miracle was the support he received during his crisis. The treatment for his medical condition was not cheap, to say the least. Yet people gave and gave; quite possibly because many recognise how much Mawi has given to Fiji and the world – through his music and through his gentle guidance of musicians.
Some gave cheques, some like Ken Jansen, Gary Apted and the management of the Holiday Inn and Taunovo Bay, all places where Mawi has performed, open their doors for musical fund-raisers. The local musicians gave of their time to perform and each event was a success with people happy to pay the cover charge, not just to listen to great music, but to show their support and love for Mawi. An overwhelmed Mawi asked me to convey a “Big Vinaka Vakalevu,” to all who came, especially to Michelle Rounds who put the events together and cajoled support from musicians and the listening public alike.
Fundraising “gigs”were also held in Australia and the United States with Victor Rounds and Mark Williams headlining the event held at the Golden Palace in Sydney's Chinatown along with Australian-based Fijian musicians.
For Mawi, the Concert of Hope is just one way of saying thank you for all the support, especially as many of the support he received also came from the western division and Nausori, where he lives. He's been given a second lease of life, and he seems determined to appreciate it. “For us musicians,” he said, “sometimes all we have to give is our music. I know for many of us this is the only way we can help.”
So on Saturday, those of us who escaped the devastation of the floods can join Mawi and the other talented entertainers in a celebration of life, of hope and of love. And along with our applause, we can show our appreciation for the music and our solidarity with those struggling in the aftermath of this natural disaster. Individually our donations may only be pocket change. Together, they amount to a new life for so many.
The Concert of Hope begins at 12pm (midday) at Suva's Albert Park this Saturday 24th January. I'll see you there.
May the rest of your week be blessed with love, light, peace and hope.
Some of us must have slept through the inauguration of the 44th (and 1st non white) President of the United States of America. Some of us may have been to “grog-doped” to comprehend what we saw on television. Some of us may still not have any electricity or our televisions (and the rest of our possessions) have been ruined by recent flooding, to notice. Some of us couldn't really be bothered as we worry about where our next meal will come from and how we will send our children to school next week.
As a nation we know all too well that one man can make a difference. Well one man and a group of heavily armed men with him. For us the mantra is not so much “Yes we can,” as “yes you should.”
However, our family celebrated the inauguration of the first US President to flash the “hang loose” sign to the media (thumb and little finger extended from the fist). Well my son and I did by getting the Obama-haircut. It was a momentous occasion for my son to bravely sit still as the barber gave him the “Number 3 Cut” with a pair of electric clippers.
My son, Francisco-Xavier has also been preparing himself to donate towards one of the many flood appeals. The Indian Division of the Methodist Church has been working to collect donations with the education of children affected by the flood in mind. We have already received pledges of financial contributions from our Fellowships and friends overseas. The Church is focusing on school books, uniforms and where possible, school fees, to enable children to attend school this term. At this stage all Francisco has to offer is some of his toys and books. I have assured him that they will go to a kindergarten where lots of children can enjoy them.
His reward, and a pre-birthday present for his soon to be 3 year-old sister, will be to watch their favourite MIC stars Nasoni and Eroni perform at the Radio Fiji-organised flood appeal Concert of Hope on Saturday (24th January). Having friends who work at Broadcasting House I was able to get a look at the list of artists who have given up their time to provide not only some great entertainment but the musical backdrop to the opportunity for the public to give some of there “spare” change. For many of us for whom the words “spare change” have ceased to hold any meaning, performances by some of Fiji's best bands and singers will be compensation for opening our clenched fists to let those precious saqamolis and hard earned green, orange, purple, blue or even red notes to drop into the collection bucket/box.
Groups such as Jeriko, Divine,Bad Boys East,Carpe Diem, Cagi Mudre ni Delairoro, Eagles Wings, Malumu ni tobu ke Navaukura, First Tribe and Dokidoki and One2Eight promise great entertainment as do vocalists Seru Serevi, Ofa Ali,Ronald Jai, Jet Shiri Krishna, Sekove Raikoro and Peni Seniyasi.
The RFMF Band will also be performing, although whethwe Major Leweni will come out of entertainment retirement to lead them or at least perform with the RFMF meke group is as yet unknown. Other dances groups so far confirmed are the Tiare Dance, Makareta Dance, Fiji Multi-Ethnic Cultural Centre, Young Bloodz and Sharon Chandra groups.
While my children are looking forward to their MIC heroes, the performance that I am eagerly anticipating is Ken Janson and the Hearts with Jazz-Legend Tom Mawi.
Mawi, who was critically ill last year, is back inform. I met up with him and Ken Janson last week to catch up and see how the “godfathers of Fiji music” were doing.
Mawi shared his experiences with me. What struck me the most was that he chose not to dwell on the illness, apart from the basic facts. He chose rather to express his gratitude. He was grateful for the work of the doctors and staff at the Suva Private Hospital and the many well wishers and visitors who came to see him in hospital or telephoned. He expressed his thanks for the prayers said for him and the miracle of healing he experienced.
But for Mawi, the other miracle was the support he received during his crisis. The treatment for his medical condition was not cheap, to say the least. Yet people gave and gave; quite possibly because many recognise how much Mawi has given to Fiji and the world – through his music and through his gentle guidance of musicians.
Some gave cheques, some like Ken Jansen, Gary Apted and the management of the Holiday Inn and Taunovo Bay, all places where Mawi has performed, open their doors for musical fund-raisers. The local musicians gave of their time to perform and each event was a success with people happy to pay the cover charge, not just to listen to great music, but to show their support and love for Mawi. An overwhelmed Mawi asked me to convey a “Big Vinaka Vakalevu,” to all who came, especially to Michelle Rounds who put the events together and cajoled support from musicians and the listening public alike.
Fundraising “gigs”were also held in Australia and the United States with Victor Rounds and Mark Williams headlining the event held at the Golden Palace in Sydney's Chinatown along with Australian-based Fijian musicians.
For Mawi, the Concert of Hope is just one way of saying thank you for all the support, especially as many of the support he received also came from the western division and Nausori, where he lives. He's been given a second lease of life, and he seems determined to appreciate it. “For us musicians,” he said, “sometimes all we have to give is our music. I know for many of us this is the only way we can help.”
So on Saturday, those of us who escaped the devastation of the floods can join Mawi and the other talented entertainers in a celebration of life, of hope and of love. And along with our applause, we can show our appreciation for the music and our solidarity with those struggling in the aftermath of this natural disaster. Individually our donations may only be pocket change. Together, they amount to a new life for so many.
The Concert of Hope begins at 12pm (midday) at Suva's Albert Park this Saturday 24th January. I'll see you there.
May the rest of your week be blessed with love, light, peace and hope.
Weathering the Storms Together
I begin this week with a word of congratulations for the Fiji Times. It was a pleasure to be part of history to read the first issue of their new-look paper. The Times have changed indeed.
My sincere thanks to those who supported the YWCA-organised Peace Vigil for Gaza last Thursday and for those of you who took time to reflect on the sad events that continue to unfold in this besieged territory as well as on the need for peace and reconciliation in our own country.
Today history (so far as this this year is concerned) is expected to repeat itself. As the nation reels from the torrential rain and flooding of last weekend, the weather office has predicted another round of the same, beginning today.
The devastation is not complete. The true extent of the disaster will not be known until people living in evacuation centres return home, until farmers survey their fields and count their livestock and business people go through their goods; until every missing person is accounted for. To measure this disaster in terms of dollars and cents only paints half the picture of the cost of this disaster. The cost of shattered dreams, the pain of losing everything – this is immeasurable.
Yet, when the international aid is finished, when the government disaster management programme ends, when the state of emergency expires – that is when we will feel the full brunt of this disaster. Children who are expected to begin school next week have lost uniforms, text books, stationery and the like. Hundreds of dollars gone; money scrimped and saved. I know some families who due to economic hardship could only give their children school things for Christmas last year – and now have no means of replacing these items. Jobs and livelihoods have been lost yet school, building and other fees and fund-raising activities remain due in the next few weeks.
Yet, in the words of Winston Churchill, our darkest moment may be our “finest hour”.
Among tales of death and destruction, other stories are coming to light. An indigenous Fijian man carrying a frail Indo-Fijian woman to safety; an indigenous Fijian family, fleeing the floods, finding refuge with their Indo-Fijian neighbours.
It is times like these, when politics are put aside, when we look not at our our differences, our status, or religion but at our common need; our common humanity. Even our neighbours who are in conflict with the military regime, recognise that there is a time and place for everything and that this is not a time for diplomatic rows but a time to help people in need.
While many of us have lost everything, or, at the very least, been inconvenienced by the flood (my family and I missed our flight back to the UK), there are many of us who have escaped this disaster, and the one to come. How we help our brothers and sisters in their hour of need, may be our finest hour. Already there are flood appeals, with requests for donations of money. But soon you may be asked to open your cupboards, your wardrobes and drawers, your bookshelves. Soon you may be asked to open your homes and your hearts– to relatives, to friends, but possibly to strangers.
When the call comes, and it will come, if not from our nation's leaders, or community or religious leaders, then from our consciences; heed the call. It is a call not just to help out, or to give from your excess but to share the little you have with those who have nothing. It is to truly be in solidarity with those who have lost everything – even hope. Or perhaps it is to give them hope.
Yesterday as I was working on my column, I heard on the radio of the flood appeal concert to be held in Albert Park next weekend (Saturday 24th January). I remembered the few appeal concerts that I helped organise over the years in Suva. Musicians and popular singing artists gave of their time freely to raise funds for those affected by cyclones and floods. I always marvelled at how musicians, who themselves struggle to make a living, earning only when they perform, could give their time for free. Many of them felt that as they could not give money, the least the could do was lend their talents to help raise money. I appeal to all musicians in the from the Pacific Harbour – Suva – Nausori corridor (professional and amateur) to join in and take part in Radio Fiji's Flood Appeal Concert. For the public it will be a wonderful opportunity to enjoy local live music and while the concert will be free, the collection bucket will be passed around for those who wish to express their appreciation and support for the flood victims in cash.
But the storm is not over yet. The cyclone season lasts until April and we need to continued to be prepared, in case the worse is yet to come. And then the storm within our nation which continues to rage, unabated. The words of the band Queen “Thunderbolts and lightning – very very frightening!” come to mind when one thinks of the storm that is now in its third year. The words “democracy” and “election” seem to be treated as vulgarities by the current regime. While our neighbours are offering humanitarian aid as a result of the floods, once this ends it will be a return to the coldest war possible in the tropical heat. Our reliance on foreign aid in the wake of crop failure and the struggling economy will be made more evident.
But just as we as a nation are rallying together in the midst of natural disaster, we can rally together to address this political disaster. All it takes is for those in leadership to open their heart and minds.
I know it is a big ask. But we're already in the process of doing this now. Could not we just keep working together?
May the rest of your week be blessed with love, light, peace and the spirit of unity.
My sincere thanks to those who supported the YWCA-organised Peace Vigil for Gaza last Thursday and for those of you who took time to reflect on the sad events that continue to unfold in this besieged territory as well as on the need for peace and reconciliation in our own country.
Today history (so far as this this year is concerned) is expected to repeat itself. As the nation reels from the torrential rain and flooding of last weekend, the weather office has predicted another round of the same, beginning today.
The devastation is not complete. The true extent of the disaster will not be known until people living in evacuation centres return home, until farmers survey their fields and count their livestock and business people go through their goods; until every missing person is accounted for. To measure this disaster in terms of dollars and cents only paints half the picture of the cost of this disaster. The cost of shattered dreams, the pain of losing everything – this is immeasurable.
Yet, when the international aid is finished, when the government disaster management programme ends, when the state of emergency expires – that is when we will feel the full brunt of this disaster. Children who are expected to begin school next week have lost uniforms, text books, stationery and the like. Hundreds of dollars gone; money scrimped and saved. I know some families who due to economic hardship could only give their children school things for Christmas last year – and now have no means of replacing these items. Jobs and livelihoods have been lost yet school, building and other fees and fund-raising activities remain due in the next few weeks.
Yet, in the words of Winston Churchill, our darkest moment may be our “finest hour”.
Among tales of death and destruction, other stories are coming to light. An indigenous Fijian man carrying a frail Indo-Fijian woman to safety; an indigenous Fijian family, fleeing the floods, finding refuge with their Indo-Fijian neighbours.
It is times like these, when politics are put aside, when we look not at our our differences, our status, or religion but at our common need; our common humanity. Even our neighbours who are in conflict with the military regime, recognise that there is a time and place for everything and that this is not a time for diplomatic rows but a time to help people in need.
While many of us have lost everything, or, at the very least, been inconvenienced by the flood (my family and I missed our flight back to the UK), there are many of us who have escaped this disaster, and the one to come. How we help our brothers and sisters in their hour of need, may be our finest hour. Already there are flood appeals, with requests for donations of money. But soon you may be asked to open your cupboards, your wardrobes and drawers, your bookshelves. Soon you may be asked to open your homes and your hearts– to relatives, to friends, but possibly to strangers.
When the call comes, and it will come, if not from our nation's leaders, or community or religious leaders, then from our consciences; heed the call. It is a call not just to help out, or to give from your excess but to share the little you have with those who have nothing. It is to truly be in solidarity with those who have lost everything – even hope. Or perhaps it is to give them hope.
Yesterday as I was working on my column, I heard on the radio of the flood appeal concert to be held in Albert Park next weekend (Saturday 24th January). I remembered the few appeal concerts that I helped organise over the years in Suva. Musicians and popular singing artists gave of their time freely to raise funds for those affected by cyclones and floods. I always marvelled at how musicians, who themselves struggle to make a living, earning only when they perform, could give their time for free. Many of them felt that as they could not give money, the least the could do was lend their talents to help raise money. I appeal to all musicians in the from the Pacific Harbour – Suva – Nausori corridor (professional and amateur) to join in and take part in Radio Fiji's Flood Appeal Concert. For the public it will be a wonderful opportunity to enjoy local live music and while the concert will be free, the collection bucket will be passed around for those who wish to express their appreciation and support for the flood victims in cash.
But the storm is not over yet. The cyclone season lasts until April and we need to continued to be prepared, in case the worse is yet to come. And then the storm within our nation which continues to rage, unabated. The words of the band Queen “Thunderbolts and lightning – very very frightening!” come to mind when one thinks of the storm that is now in its third year. The words “democracy” and “election” seem to be treated as vulgarities by the current regime. While our neighbours are offering humanitarian aid as a result of the floods, once this ends it will be a return to the coldest war possible in the tropical heat. Our reliance on foreign aid in the wake of crop failure and the struggling economy will be made more evident.
But just as we as a nation are rallying together in the midst of natural disaster, we can rally together to address this political disaster. All it takes is for those in leadership to open their heart and minds.
I know it is a big ask. But we're already in the process of doing this now. Could not we just keep working together?
May the rest of your week be blessed with love, light, peace and the spirit of unity.
Peaceful Co-existence: A Myth Or An Unfulfilled Dream?”
Just a few days into 2009, the United Nation's Year of Reconciliation has suffered a massive setback with the Israeli invasion of Palestinian Gaza. While I deplore the violent methods of Hamas and understand the insecurity of Israel with a militant organisation on its borders, the level of Israeli retaliation can only be described as excessive. The number of civilian casualties is atrocious. I could not hold back the tears when I saw the picture in Monday's Fiji Times of little children killed by Israeli air-strikes. While these civilian casualties are “collateral damage” of Israel military action against a clear present danger, the term, “slaughter of the innocents” came to mind immediately.
On the second day of this year, I received an email forwarded from a Palestinian woman named Hana, who has been involved in peacemaking programmes at the community level. Writing in the midst of the exchange of rockets and the Israeli airs-trikes, just before the Israeli land incursion into Gaza, “What a sad Christmas, our trees are with no lights, Bethlehem is in mourning and the spirit of Christmas has gone. No Christmas hyms, no lights, no laughs and Santa Claus is fighting against the wall. Only news, sad pictures and tears. Jesus Christ, the baby of Bethlehem is so sad about the butchering of innocent children.”
The people of Gaza have been living in a virtual prison for the last six months. They lack the basics of food, water and sanitation. Our brothers and sisters who serve in the RFMF's 2FIR which is part of the Multinational Force and Observers in Sinai have observation posts on the Egyptian /Gaza border. They see the desperation of a people who last year, surged to break the border crossing at Rafah to cross into Egypt in search of essential supplies. Who dig tunnels to smuggle, along with weapons, food and medicine. Who, on days when the border is opened, swarm into the border towns and like hungry locusts devour everything that is for sale.
Hana writes, “How can I answer the question of my son, Fernando 12 years old when he asked me. 'Is God a Jew? If not why would He allow this to happen to my people and children of my age.'” She adds, “I have no answer, I feel so ashamed for being unable to explain this to my son.” Hana ends her email saying, “There is no peace without justice,” and calls for support for the Palestinians through real actions on the ground.
Although we are tens of thousands of kilometres away from this conflict, we are connected by faith (both Christianity and Islam) to this region. We have, for the last three decades assumed a responsibility in keeping the peace in this conflict area. While our prayers are with our men and women serving in the Sinai and other conflict areas in the world, let us also remember the lives that hang in the balance of these conflicts.
The Palestine YWCA (Young Women's Christian Association) will stage a candlelight vigil on January 8th in a call for ceasefire in Gaza and peace between Israel and Palestine. Here in Fiji the call has gone out for us to show our solidarity by lighting a candle for peace and to “reflect from our own faith experiences the need for non-violent approaches to achieve sustainable peace – from our home and communities and throughout the world.” There will also be a “Peace Vigil” on Thursday 8th January at the Holy Trinity Cathedral in Suva from 12.30pm to 2pm. It will be a time for us not only to reflect on the conflict in Gaza and but also on the need for a peaceful resolution to the ongoing political crisis in Fiji. I hope that those of you in Suva can make time to attend the vigil during your lunch break and that those outside Suva can light a candle and remember, with your families, those for whom peace is still a dream.
On Friday night, my family were fortunate to attend Radio Fiji Gold's hosting of the Fiji premier of U2's 3D concert film. As we collected our plastic 3D-specs, I could help recalling my childhood days in Lautoka when the few 3D films were being screened during a particular school holiday season. The 3D glasses were made out of cardboard and meant to be disposable, but in the days before inexpensive sunglasses, most of the boys in the town walked around using the 3D-specs as sunglasses.
The film was amazing, it put you not only right in the middle of the concert but on the stage. U2 is undoubtedly the world's best rock band, even my son Francisco, who is adamant that UB40 is the greatest band in the universe, couldn't help but enjoy himself, although it does get a little loud for the young ones. As for my daughter, Antonia; while her mum, dad and brother were grooving away in their seats, occasionally ducking to avoid being hit by the 3D-image of a microphone or lead singer-Bono's hand, she was dancing in the aisles.
But more than the concept of a 3D-concert film, more than the stagecraft of the artists performing, I was struck by the messages of peace, reconciliation, unity and human dignity in the music of U2. There music is popular to those who are fans of the genre, but their lyrics resonate with all. Bono, the lead singer of U2 has been active in the issue of cancelling Third-world Debt. The band took part in Amnesty International concerts, before it became the “in-thing” to do for bands.
The most touching part of the concert (proof that it is possible to get a lump in your throat at a rock concert) was when Bono put on a headband. It was a plain white piece of material on which was drawn the Crescent – the symbol of Islam, the Star of David – the symbol of Judaism, and the Cross – the symbol of Christianity with the letters “O”, “E”, “I”, and “S” in between, written thus: “OEIS”. The message was clear: all of us, regardless of our religious beliefs, our political affiliation, or our social status need to co-exist peacefully. We inhabit the same planet, breathe the same air and experience the same feelings of joy, sorrow, anger, injury, despair and hope. We are human beings. The majority of the planet holds to the belief that we were all created in the image of God, yet we cannot see ourselves, let alone God in each other.
On this Sunday past, Methodists around the world observed Covenant Sunday and renewed their covenant with God. On Thursday as many around the world join in solidarity with the people of Palestine, let us light a candle as a symbol of our covenant to live in peace with each other.
May the rest of your week blessed with love, light and peace.
On the second day of this year, I received an email forwarded from a Palestinian woman named Hana, who has been involved in peacemaking programmes at the community level. Writing in the midst of the exchange of rockets and the Israeli airs-trikes, just before the Israeli land incursion into Gaza, “What a sad Christmas, our trees are with no lights, Bethlehem is in mourning and the spirit of Christmas has gone. No Christmas hyms, no lights, no laughs and Santa Claus is fighting against the wall. Only news, sad pictures and tears. Jesus Christ, the baby of Bethlehem is so sad about the butchering of innocent children.”
The people of Gaza have been living in a virtual prison for the last six months. They lack the basics of food, water and sanitation. Our brothers and sisters who serve in the RFMF's 2FIR which is part of the Multinational Force and Observers in Sinai have observation posts on the Egyptian /Gaza border. They see the desperation of a people who last year, surged to break the border crossing at Rafah to cross into Egypt in search of essential supplies. Who dig tunnels to smuggle, along with weapons, food and medicine. Who, on days when the border is opened, swarm into the border towns and like hungry locusts devour everything that is for sale.
Hana writes, “How can I answer the question of my son, Fernando 12 years old when he asked me. 'Is God a Jew? If not why would He allow this to happen to my people and children of my age.'” She adds, “I have no answer, I feel so ashamed for being unable to explain this to my son.” Hana ends her email saying, “There is no peace without justice,” and calls for support for the Palestinians through real actions on the ground.
Although we are tens of thousands of kilometres away from this conflict, we are connected by faith (both Christianity and Islam) to this region. We have, for the last three decades assumed a responsibility in keeping the peace in this conflict area. While our prayers are with our men and women serving in the Sinai and other conflict areas in the world, let us also remember the lives that hang in the balance of these conflicts.
The Palestine YWCA (Young Women's Christian Association) will stage a candlelight vigil on January 8th in a call for ceasefire in Gaza and peace between Israel and Palestine. Here in Fiji the call has gone out for us to show our solidarity by lighting a candle for peace and to “reflect from our own faith experiences the need for non-violent approaches to achieve sustainable peace – from our home and communities and throughout the world.” There will also be a “Peace Vigil” on Thursday 8th January at the Holy Trinity Cathedral in Suva from 12.30pm to 2pm. It will be a time for us not only to reflect on the conflict in Gaza and but also on the need for a peaceful resolution to the ongoing political crisis in Fiji. I hope that those of you in Suva can make time to attend the vigil during your lunch break and that those outside Suva can light a candle and remember, with your families, those for whom peace is still a dream.
On Friday night, my family were fortunate to attend Radio Fiji Gold's hosting of the Fiji premier of U2's 3D concert film. As we collected our plastic 3D-specs, I could help recalling my childhood days in Lautoka when the few 3D films were being screened during a particular school holiday season. The 3D glasses were made out of cardboard and meant to be disposable, but in the days before inexpensive sunglasses, most of the boys in the town walked around using the 3D-specs as sunglasses.
The film was amazing, it put you not only right in the middle of the concert but on the stage. U2 is undoubtedly the world's best rock band, even my son Francisco, who is adamant that UB40 is the greatest band in the universe, couldn't help but enjoy himself, although it does get a little loud for the young ones. As for my daughter, Antonia; while her mum, dad and brother were grooving away in their seats, occasionally ducking to avoid being hit by the 3D-image of a microphone or lead singer-Bono's hand, she was dancing in the aisles.
But more than the concept of a 3D-concert film, more than the stagecraft of the artists performing, I was struck by the messages of peace, reconciliation, unity and human dignity in the music of U2. There music is popular to those who are fans of the genre, but their lyrics resonate with all. Bono, the lead singer of U2 has been active in the issue of cancelling Third-world Debt. The band took part in Amnesty International concerts, before it became the “in-thing” to do for bands.
The most touching part of the concert (proof that it is possible to get a lump in your throat at a rock concert) was when Bono put on a headband. It was a plain white piece of material on which was drawn the Crescent – the symbol of Islam, the Star of David – the symbol of Judaism, and the Cross – the symbol of Christianity with the letters “O”, “E”, “I”, and “S” in between, written thus: “OEIS”. The message was clear: all of us, regardless of our religious beliefs, our political affiliation, or our social status need to co-exist peacefully. We inhabit the same planet, breathe the same air and experience the same feelings of joy, sorrow, anger, injury, despair and hope. We are human beings. The majority of the planet holds to the belief that we were all created in the image of God, yet we cannot see ourselves, let alone God in each other.
On this Sunday past, Methodists around the world observed Covenant Sunday and renewed their covenant with God. On Thursday as many around the world join in solidarity with the people of Palestine, let us light a candle as a symbol of our covenant to live in peace with each other.
May the rest of your week blessed with love, light and peace.
New Year's Eve 2008
It often happens that the week between Christmas Day and New Year's Day simply merges into a a post-Christmas / pre-New Year's blur. For some it's just a week of partying. For others, it's time to take some leave and spend time with family. Even others visit the village and for a few die hard “swipers” it's a non-stop grog party. For the most everyone is in a kind of limbo. Most of the money has been spent, the food eaten and the presents opened. Now everyone works on their water-throwing skills and builds their collection of baby powder for the New Year rituals so popular and somewhat dangerous to motorists in Fiji.
For a lot of us this a time of reflection as we look back at the year that was and think about the year that will be. Some make resolutions, some make promises, some make predictions.
Then there is New Year Eve, which unlike Christmas Eve is really only busy at the end of the day. Tonight, thousands will say goodbye to 2008 and hello to 2009 with parties: at home, in bars and clubs and on the street. Tens of thousands will spend the last hour of this year and the first few minutes of the next in Church (an invitation is extended to those in Suva who would like to join me at Dudley Methodist Church in Amy Street, Toorak at 11pm). For hundreds of thousands of our brothers and sisters in Fiji, though, it will be a quiet time as many ponder the uncertainty of 2009 after the unpredictable 2008.
This is a time of global uncertainty. Will US President-elect Obama,be able to really bring about a lasting change? How long will the global economic recession last? Will India and Pakistan be able to avoid war? Will Israel enter Gaza?
Here at home we ask questions of the future? Elections? Democracy? Peace? Employment? What does the future hold for our country? Is there a place for us in this future? Will we have a say in our country's future or are we expected to just “follow the leader”?
The other day, on my way from Suva to Deuba, one of our car's tyres was punctured. As I attempted to change the tyre, the jack broke, leaving us stranded and hoping for a kind passer-by to stop and lend us their jack. For half-an-hour, my wife tried to distract our children who were running out of patience in their excitement to visit my in-laws as I stood on the side of the road trying to flag down a passing vehicle. It was an interesting experience. No-one stopped or slowed down.
I understood that the tourists and expatriates might not want to slow down; after all perhaps in their mind, this neatly dressed man with his family in tow was actually a car-jacker in disguise as warned in travel advisories: “do not stop on the roads to help anyone as they may be related to or be friends with, or go to church with or know soldiers or someone in the interim government” (my own musing).
I understood that those who disagree with something I may have written in this column over the past few months may not want to stop: “There's that James Bhagwan – who missed his son's birthday. Don't stop!”
But I also understood that perhaps we've lost our sense of trust in this country. Our trust has been broken so many times that we don't know who to trust anymore. Sure, I could have been someone in need but I could also have been someone waiting to take advantage of a kind person. The saddest realisation was not that we have lost our trust in others, we seem to have lost our trust in ourselves.
Telepathically receiving my S.O.S or divinely inspired, or merely by coincidence, my cousin Mervyn drove past and as he has done so many times came to my rescue, even going to his house to get a jack I could use until I replaced my damaged one in the event of another flat tyre or, perhaps after reading this article, a snap LTA inspection. Thank you “Boy”!
As I joined my in-laws in celebrating yet another round of FEA power-sharing and reflected on my rejection on the side of the road, it became apparent that despite the best efforts of many we are still a broken country. We second-guess ourselves and each other, accept hearsay about others as truth and make our judgements about others based on our own insecurities. Our current crisis in Fiji, political, social and personal, has shown us that reconciliation exercises of the past have not taken root.
On Christmas Day, I shared with those in attendence at Dudley Church that peace (and by extension trust and reconciliation), cannot be found in a document, in the barrel of a gun, the peace that can not be taken by force or false promises, the peace that cannot be forced upon people or traded on like stocks. The peace that Fiji needs can only ever be given and received in love. If not the love for each other then at least the love for our country.
Peace means consensus, where there are no losers – where everyone can be a winner. But until we reach that point have to keep working. We have to keep unwrapping the gift until we find that precious thing inside. If we say - “I can't find it” or “I don't see it” or “This won't happen” it is because we are not working hard enough to make, keep and share peace.
In my travels, as I reflect on what I see, what I experience, one of the saddest realisations for me is, as our nation lurches from crisis to crisis, from conflict to conflict, is that the majority of people involved call themselves Christians. We research, hold meetings and create documents, with pillars that are supposed to ensure change, peace and progress when we ignore the most important pillar for peace – the command to love one another as God in Christ loved us.
The United Nations has declared 2009 to be the International Year of Reconciliation and has called on societies that have been divided by conflict to adopt reconciliation processes in order to establish firm and lasting peace.
In his Christmas message, Rev. Dr. Sam Kobia, the General Secretary of the World Council of Churches said, “Reconciliation is a glorious message. It offers the promise that some wrongs of the past may be set right, the truth may be discovered in all cases, forgiveness may be sought and even
ancient enemies may come to live together in mutual respect.”
This New Year's Eve I invite you to commit yourself to playing your part in creating a firm and lasting peace in Fiji. In renewing your trust in yourself and in others. In forgiving and respecting others. It is a commitment that requires no international monitors. It is a commitment in which you set the time line. It is a commitment that only you an God know that you are being faithful to. It is a commitment which you can achieve.
May 2009 be blessed with love, light, truth, peace and reconciliation.
For a lot of us this a time of reflection as we look back at the year that was and think about the year that will be. Some make resolutions, some make promises, some make predictions.
Then there is New Year Eve, which unlike Christmas Eve is really only busy at the end of the day. Tonight, thousands will say goodbye to 2008 and hello to 2009 with parties: at home, in bars and clubs and on the street. Tens of thousands will spend the last hour of this year and the first few minutes of the next in Church (an invitation is extended to those in Suva who would like to join me at Dudley Methodist Church in Amy Street, Toorak at 11pm). For hundreds of thousands of our brothers and sisters in Fiji, though, it will be a quiet time as many ponder the uncertainty of 2009 after the unpredictable 2008.
This is a time of global uncertainty. Will US President-elect Obama,be able to really bring about a lasting change? How long will the global economic recession last? Will India and Pakistan be able to avoid war? Will Israel enter Gaza?
Here at home we ask questions of the future? Elections? Democracy? Peace? Employment? What does the future hold for our country? Is there a place for us in this future? Will we have a say in our country's future or are we expected to just “follow the leader”?
The other day, on my way from Suva to Deuba, one of our car's tyres was punctured. As I attempted to change the tyre, the jack broke, leaving us stranded and hoping for a kind passer-by to stop and lend us their jack. For half-an-hour, my wife tried to distract our children who were running out of patience in their excitement to visit my in-laws as I stood on the side of the road trying to flag down a passing vehicle. It was an interesting experience. No-one stopped or slowed down.
I understood that the tourists and expatriates might not want to slow down; after all perhaps in their mind, this neatly dressed man with his family in tow was actually a car-jacker in disguise as warned in travel advisories: “do not stop on the roads to help anyone as they may be related to or be friends with, or go to church with or know soldiers or someone in the interim government” (my own musing).
I understood that those who disagree with something I may have written in this column over the past few months may not want to stop: “There's that James Bhagwan – who missed his son's birthday. Don't stop!”
But I also understood that perhaps we've lost our sense of trust in this country. Our trust has been broken so many times that we don't know who to trust anymore. Sure, I could have been someone in need but I could also have been someone waiting to take advantage of a kind person. The saddest realisation was not that we have lost our trust in others, we seem to have lost our trust in ourselves.
Telepathically receiving my S.O.S or divinely inspired, or merely by coincidence, my cousin Mervyn drove past and as he has done so many times came to my rescue, even going to his house to get a jack I could use until I replaced my damaged one in the event of another flat tyre or, perhaps after reading this article, a snap LTA inspection. Thank you “Boy”!
As I joined my in-laws in celebrating yet another round of FEA power-sharing and reflected on my rejection on the side of the road, it became apparent that despite the best efforts of many we are still a broken country. We second-guess ourselves and each other, accept hearsay about others as truth and make our judgements about others based on our own insecurities. Our current crisis in Fiji, political, social and personal, has shown us that reconciliation exercises of the past have not taken root.
On Christmas Day, I shared with those in attendence at Dudley Church that peace (and by extension trust and reconciliation), cannot be found in a document, in the barrel of a gun, the peace that can not be taken by force or false promises, the peace that cannot be forced upon people or traded on like stocks. The peace that Fiji needs can only ever be given and received in love. If not the love for each other then at least the love for our country.
Peace means consensus, where there are no losers – where everyone can be a winner. But until we reach that point have to keep working. We have to keep unwrapping the gift until we find that precious thing inside. If we say - “I can't find it” or “I don't see it” or “This won't happen” it is because we are not working hard enough to make, keep and share peace.
In my travels, as I reflect on what I see, what I experience, one of the saddest realisations for me is, as our nation lurches from crisis to crisis, from conflict to conflict, is that the majority of people involved call themselves Christians. We research, hold meetings and create documents, with pillars that are supposed to ensure change, peace and progress when we ignore the most important pillar for peace – the command to love one another as God in Christ loved us.
The United Nations has declared 2009 to be the International Year of Reconciliation and has called on societies that have been divided by conflict to adopt reconciliation processes in order to establish firm and lasting peace.
In his Christmas message, Rev. Dr. Sam Kobia, the General Secretary of the World Council of Churches said, “Reconciliation is a glorious message. It offers the promise that some wrongs of the past may be set right, the truth may be discovered in all cases, forgiveness may be sought and even
ancient enemies may come to live together in mutual respect.”
This New Year's Eve I invite you to commit yourself to playing your part in creating a firm and lasting peace in Fiji. In renewing your trust in yourself and in others. In forgiving and respecting others. It is a commitment that requires no international monitors. It is a commitment in which you set the time line. It is a commitment that only you an God know that you are being faithful to. It is a commitment which you can achieve.
May 2009 be blessed with love, light, truth, peace and reconciliation.
Christmas Eve 2008
It is wonderful to be back home. It especially nice to see the sun rise before half-past eight in the morning. With the sun setting at around four in the afternoon in England, I kept finding myself ready for bed at about six in the evening. The joy of reuniting with my family has helped me ignore the huge jump in temperature, from the British winter's balmy three degrees to the sweltering thirty degrees of the sugar city.
In all honesty, travel, jet-lag and having each hand firmly in the grip of my children, who no doubt refuse to let go just in case Daddy disappears, has not given me much time to work on this week's column.
Before sitting down to prepare for my Christmas morning sermon at Suva's Dudley Church (Amy Street, Toorak at 9am – All welcome), I had the urge to be a little creative this, week. Call it the inspiration of the muse, the perspiration from the western Sun, or just the desperation of the deadline. Given that this is a time of joy, of celebrating the birth of Jesus, of peace and goodwill, here is something in the tradition of Christmas. Well it mentions Christmas, presents and Santa. Enjoy!
'Twas the day before Christmas in a land with no snow,
where political correctness had banned the word “Ho!”.
The sun shone so brightly, it was as hot as in Hades,
with fake Santas outside shops all wearing their shades.
Sweating in their costumes that would have made old St. Nick blush,
and cajoling would be customers caught up in the Christmas-eve rush.
With promises of specials and cries of “buy one get on free!”
that could be heard in ATM lines that snaked back as far as the eye could see.
Parents with holes in pockets, clutched precious saqamolis in fear of being robbed,
silently grateful of fact that the national Scrooge had lost his job.
They sighed as they gazed on their children's Christmas list,
for money was tighter than an angry man's fist.
One read “Big Gun,” “Action Man,” and “Tank;”
Daddy mused if he could get away with giving just a picture of Frank.
Bublu wanted a t-shirt with Shahrukh, one of his favourite stars,
Mummy was just happy he didn't ask for one of Aiyaz.
“May I please have rugby ball, with Sir-revi's” autograph” another one read,
The autograph is the easy part but it might be on a coconut instead.
Big spender who had become thrifty and turned over a new economic leaf,
was giving everyone gifts of breakfast crackers, noodles, tuna and corned beef.
At home parents remembered, the old days before times were hard,
way back when you appreciated the thought of a home-made card.
When Christmas was about sharing with family and friends and having fun.
Not rushing to buy everything on sale under the sun.
Each gift, whatever cost, said the same message true,
“This is an expression of my love for you.”
These thoughts came to mind as I lay on my bed,
and wished that the fearless leader could change his white suit for red.
I pray for goodwill and peace on the earth,
especially for these islands, the place of my birth.
I would like to share with you a Christmas present sent to me by one of my friends, Jeremy. Since we began communicating via emails, Jeremy often sends me some wonderful inspirational messages and stories that he has been sent by others. Thank you Jeremy.
“In 1994, two Americans answered an invitation from the Russian Department of
Education to teach morals and ethics (based on biblical principles) in the
public schools. They were invited to teach at prisons, businesses, the fire
and police departments and a large orphanage. About 100 boys and girls who
had been abandoned, abused, and left in the care of a government-run program
were in the orphanage. They relate the following story in their own words:
It was nearing the holiday season, 1994, time for our orphans to hear, for
the first time, the traditional story of Christmas. We told them about Mary
and Joseph arriving in Bethlehem. Finding no room in the inn, the couple
went to a stable, where the baby Jesus was born and placed in a manger.
Throughout the story, the children and orphanage staff sat in amazement as
they listened. Some sat on the edges of their stools, trying to grasp every
word. Completing the story, we gave the children three small pieces of
cardboard to make a crude manger. Each child was given a small paper square,
cut from yellow napkins I had brought with me. No colored paper was
available in the city.
Following instructions, the children tore the paper and carefully laid
strips in the manger for straw. Small squares of flannel, cut from a
worn-out nightgown an American lady was throwing away as she left Russia,
were used for the baby's blanket. A doll-like baby was cut from tan felt we
had brought from the United States.
The orphans were busy assembling their manger as I walked among them to see
if they needed any help. All went well until I got to one table where little
Misha sat. He looked to be about 6 years old and had finished his project.
As I looked at the little boy's manger, I was startled to see not one, but
two babies in the manger. Quickly, I called for the translator to ask the
lad why there were two babies in the manger. Crossing his arms in front of
him and looking at this completed manger scene, the child began to repeat
the story very seriously.
For such a young boy, who had only heard the Christmas story once, he
related the happenings accurately.. .until he came to the part where Mary put
the baby Jesus in the manger. Then Misha started to ad-lib. He made up his
own ending to the story as he said, "And when Maria laid the baby in the
manger, Jesus looked at me and asked me if I had a place to stay. I told him
I have no mamma and I have no papa, so I don't have any place to stay. Then
Jesus told me I could stay with him. But I told him I couldn't, because I
didn't have a gift to give him like everybody else did. But I wanted to stay
with Jesus so much, so I thought about what I had that maybe I could use for
a gift. I thought maybe if I kept him warm, that would be a good gift.
So I asked Jesus, "If I keep you warm, will that be a good enough gift?"
And Jesus told me, "If you keep me warm, that will be the best gift anybody
ever gave me."
"So I got into the manger, and then Jesus looked at me and he told me I
could stay with him...for always."
As little Misha finished his story, his eyes brimmed full of tears that
splashed down his little cheeks. Putting his hand over his face, his head
dropped to the table and his shoulders shook as he sobbed and sobbed.
The little orphan had found someone who would never abandon nor abuse him,
someone who would stay with him...FOR ALWAYS.
I've learned that it's not what you have in your life, but who you have in
your life that counts.”
With blessings of love, light, peace and joy this Christmas and for the New Year!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)