IT was my first day at The Fiji Times and what was supposed to have been an orientation day turned out to be a baptism of fire.
After a conversation with Mosese Seru, the turaga ni koro of (village headman) Nakida Village in the district of Nagonenicolo in Naitasiri, chief of staff Timoci Vula and deputy editor in chief Elenoa Baselala advised it would be best to travel to the village before writing the story.
Six years ago was the last time I worked in the mainstream media but after moving from workplace to workplace, I still had the passion that saw me returning to where it all started.
Little did I know that in only my second day and what was to make my first week was an assignment which saw me travelling to a remote village nestled in the highlands of Naitasiri where the Ra and Tailevu provinces meet.
The village is only accessible by foot if travelling from Wainibuka and both on foot and bilibili (bamboo raft) if travelling from the village of Nakorosule.
Before the travel Mosese had told me we would be taking the Wainibuka route because it was relatively shorter and easier. Having spent the past year and half farming in my koro ni vasu (my mother’s village) in Wailevu, Tunuloa, Cakaudrove, walking was not a problem as I would walk uphill for more than an hour to reach my farm
The walk from Gusuniwai in Wainibuka, Tailevu to Nakida turned out to be a trek to remember. It was a walk that started from the district of Wainibuka through the district of Nalawa in Ra and then on to Nagonenicolo, Naitasiri.
Tuesday, August 18 was the date of travel. It started with a pick-up from home by the company vehicle then to Mataimaivere in Namara, Tailevu to pick photographer Jone Luvenitoga.
Luckily for us when we arrived at Gusuniwai, a horse had been waiting to carry the food items we had bought during our stop-over at Korovou Town. After a closer look at the horse, one could tell it was tired after being ridden by Mosese’s son, Simeli.
Leaving the Kings Rd at 12 midday, we started our journey by crossing the Wainibuka River once, Lawaki River three times before we made our way up into the deep forest – one of only two “easy” access tracks the people of Nakida have to the outside world.
Quitting was never going to be a part of me. Edgar Guest summed up in his poem:
“When things go wrong as they sometimes will,
When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but don’t you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don’t give up though the pace seems slow
You may succeed with another blow,
Success is failure turned inside out
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far;
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit
It’s when things seem worst that you must not quit.”
As we snaked our way uphill our only company were birds chirping high up in the forest canopy. It seemed they were either cheering us on to make it to the top or teasing us because of our invasion into their habitat, either way it did not matter. What mattered the most was reaching the top.
Reaching the top meant wading through knee-deep mud pools, negotiating slippery stretches on the sometimes rocky track, dodging, ducking and jumping through and over bushes in such an untouched and pristine environment. Mind you, the weather was not perfect for going into the forest.
After an hour and a half of going up we came to a ridge to have a breather. I felt relieved knowing we were going to descend, but it was not to my expectation, what followed was another climb. To think going up was difficult, going down was much more. Any lapse in concentration could see you land on rocks, bamboos or felled tree trunks. This was clearly not a journey for the weak and the faint of heart.
Thinking trudging uphill was over, we had another think coming. We had to do it again and by this time only Mosese was doing the talking while Jone and I limited our responses to a nod or simple “yes” or “no”, conserving our energy for the journey uphill. When we reached the top, to our right was Nalawa, Ra with the Navitilevu Bay over the horizon. To the left was Wainibuka, Tailevu and up ahead was Nagonenicolo, Naitasiri.
After almost three hours in the jungle we came to Naveiwamasi Village. It is occupied by only one family, the rest have moved closer to towns and cities for education and greener pastures.
After a gruelling five-hour hike through the highlands of Ra, Tailevu and Naitasiri, in addition to crossing the Takataka Creek 12 times, we finally reached our destination, Nakida Village.
This was through the “easiest” route for the people of Nakida as they go to sell their produce in Rakiraki Town. It had been a walk to remember — a walk, among other things, of pain, struggle, and the experience that taught me the importance of enduring the tough things in life.
To experience what they go through is a memory worth cherishing. To see their smiling faces reinforces the teaching that we must appreciate everything despite the circumstances we are facing. To hear their stories was so emotional and worth sharing on how we sometimes take things for granted.
After our isevusevu and a few bowls of kava, what better way to end the day with nice, fresh, sweet tender, meat of wild pigs simply boiled, eaten with freshly-uprooted and cooked dalo.
* Next week — The return.
