The dangerous situation in West Papua has brought together a group of indigenous musicians hoping to provide joyous entertainment, while raising awareness of their fight for freedom.

By TIFFANY KORSSEN

West Papuan Ronny Kareni and his Melbourne-based string band have much more than an impressive assortment of wooden instruments. What makes this band unique is a lifelong vision to free their people from what Kareni calls an “oppressive” Indonesian rule.

The Black Orchid String Band is comprised solely of indigenous West Papuan people, many of them refugees. They will perform in Melbourne this month to promote their cause.

Kareni, the band’s founder, says it is hard to understand how dangerous the situation in West Papua is considering it is Australia’s closest neighbour.

Kareni says that since West Papua was ceded to Indonesia in 1962, the struggle for indigenous Papuans to maintain their culture – and their human rights – has been difficult.

“I was born into this struggle,” says Kareni, who says he cannot speak his native language because his family fled from Indonesian forces to Papua New Guinea when he was a child.

New generations of West Papuans are increasingly unable to speak their language, he says, because only Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian language) is allowed to be taught in schools.

Indonesian people are ethnically and culturally different to native Papuans, he says. “Papuans have never felt included or been given recognition since Indonesia took over from the Dutch in 1962,” Kareni says.

“Not being able to speak your native language or practice your culture makes you feel disconnected and like a stranger in your own country.”

The intention of the band is to raise people’s awareness of this situation in Australia through what Papuans do best – song, says Kareni.

The band translates popular Bahasa songs into the Papuan language tok pisin and other dialects. Much of their music is original and is written by West Papuan band members who, like Kareni, have histories as refugees.

“Music is the spirit of nationalism for West Papuans, it brings us together,” Kareni says.

West Papua expert from the University of Sydney Dr Camellia Webb-Gannon agrees that a key source of hope for West Papuans “lies in their music”.

“It is a large part of their culture and they use it as a powerful tool against Indonesian oppression,” she says.

“Indonesian forces have tried to prevent West Papuans from accessing their culture as a strategy for killing them off, without their language and their music their mental wellbeing is damaged and they lose hope in the future.”

Kareni says a performance by the band at Northcote Bar 303 on September 11, along with the Melbourne Ukulele Kollective, aims to bring attention to their plight.

“Regardless of our hardship we won’t stop singing,” he says.

They want to raise awareness about the generational struggle of West Papuans and to raise funds to help release political prisoners who have been jailed for displaying what Indonesia calls “separatist behaviour” such as speaking together in Papuan dialects, according to Kareni.

Dr Webb-Gannon says what was happening in West Papua could “easily be described as genocide” and was only going to get worse.

“The Indigenous people have been reduced to less than half of the population,” she says.

“As West Papua’s closest neighbour it is Australia’s duty to put aside fears of ruffling Indonesia’s feathers and … help West Papuans achieve safety and recognition in their own country.”

The band is dedicated to documenting the declining West Papuan languages and sharing them with Australia and the Papuan community both here and overseas.

In this sense, Kareni says the band has an opportunity to educate its audience about the “entangled world of West Papua” while encouraging other Papuans to “never cease the fight for freedom”.

It was, in fact, this fight against Indonesian forces that in 1984 made Kareni and his family take refuge in bordering Papua New Guinea.

“In West Papua it is illegal to fly the indigenous flag, if you talk peacefully with other Papuans you can be detained,” he says.

He settled in Ballarat 11 years ago on a Catholic aid program organised by exiled West Papuan leader Jacob Rumbiak. He went on to earn a degree in international relations from the University of Ballarat and to start up the Black Orchid String Band.

“Billum” is the Papuan way of saying “to bring people together” and Kareni and his band want just that. To bring people together through music to achieve a free and Independent West Papua, which Kareni says is “destiny”.