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From the cane fields of Gallau to national champs

SOMETHING of the Andhra Gallau side’s recent victory has been forgotten.

Its skill and courage over Easter —— soon after Ram Naumi —— was remarkable not only because it emerged winner of the national Andhra soccer tournament for the second year running, but because it did so in such unpromising circumstances.

Everybody knows well enough how Cyclone Winston, a cataclysmic 5, tore through Rakiraki leaving devastation from which it has yet fully to recover. There are few, also, unaware of the floods that repeatedly closed Vaileka and Rakiraki’s schools this year.

Homes were destroyed, crops and livestock devastated. Yet the media have not adequately followed through. And to add to it all we are told the Penang mill will never re-open.

Against this background Andhra Gallau’s soccer achievement takes on a greater significance than the trophy alone.

Situated outside Vaileka (Rakiraki) town, Gallau or Naqalau on old maps, occupies the south side of the Nakauvadra River, below the legendary sweep of mountains of that same name. The valley is astonishingly beautiful.

Its population of a few hundred is ethnically, linguistically, and religiously diverse —— Hindu, Muslim, and Christian —— but like the football team and community from which it springs, most are of South Indian origin.

Gallau’s cane fields are generally flat and small, suited as much to bullock plough as tractor. Even so, some have planted on steeper ground, chancing soil erosion or accidents. Incomes are modest, to say the least, forcing growers to add other forms of enterprise where possible. Many struggle to break-even. The key to survival -——and happiness —— is fortitude, faith, optimism, and that profound sense of belonging that marks a close-knit, deep-rooted, community. The question is, how long can it last? Will the nation’s already congested towns be the last resort? Can out- migration be staunched?

In terms of nation building, unity, and fortitude in the face of the sort of challenges Fiji as a whole confronts, including climate-change, Andhra Gallau and the community behind it, drawing others in to play, is to be celebrated. This is not to say there are not numerous other communities throughout Fiji doing it tough in heroic circumstances. Nevertheless, it would be hard to beat (in every sense of the term) what’s happening in Gallau and its surrounds, when it comes to spirit, ethnic bonding, and the kind of civic pride that sporting prowess can bring. National leaders should get behind it symbolically or practically.