Talitha’s Story

On the eve of my 30th birthday, I lost my sister Talitha in a tragic road accident, she was only 26. Like my other siblings, it was hard to digest, even more; I received news a day after the accident as I was in Panguna, and could only access Digicel by standing only at certain locations. This made it more shocking when I received condolence messages before I could confirm my sister's passing. My little family managed to make it in time before her burial at our Father's village in Rempi. This is Talitha's story from a brother's reflection.

Talitha was born on the 12^th of February 1992 at the Port Moresby General Hospital. At the time, we lived at the Ranu Flats in 4 Mile. I was only 4 years old, but can vividly recollect the time as she was the sibling after me and the first sister for the brother pair. We had no babysitter hence we had to stay with Mum's younger brother Uncle David, while Dad drove Mum down to the hospital in our little Toyota Starlet. It was an exciting time because finally we were having a sister. Mum and Dad wanted a daughter after me, so to me, Talitha was the answer to their wish. 

 

                          3 year old Tali

Talitha was a revelation of a new experience in our home. Needless to mention the attention had diverted from me to her, she had by nature a knack to draw attention wherever we go. For myself and big bro, it was sort of an embarrassment as we try to ignore the fact that she could steal attention at the whips of her innocence when trying to be part of the group. She liked dancing, dressing up, singing, and often would try to ruin (as we would put it) our games with her demands. Her favourite traditional dance was the Madang’s ‘Kanai’, and she would wear Mum’s Mekeo grass skirt and arm bands with Dads ‘kangal’ on the head. And she’d be dancing like a Hiri Motu Queen on a Lakatoi. Nevertheless, she was always part of the group no matter how much protest we (Manzo and myself) put up.

Dancing to the kundu

In her attire ready to dance

Fr. John Ryan, who recited the final prayer at Talitha's burial; administered her baptism when she was a few months old at St Peter Channel Erima Parish, Port Moresby.   

School became the new compulsory for us as both brothers began in 1994 and 1995 respectively. After our aunties left, Mum and Dad had to find someone to mind Tali. They settled for Manzo's babysitter Leleso, whom we often refer to as Bubu Goroka. Talitha took an instant liking to Bubu Goroka, she would often frisk through her bilum every morning to find at least a biscuit or her favourite umbrella candy, she would often throw a tantrum when she did not find any. 

Holidays would find us waking up late to watch Malolo Club on EMTV, and waiting for 3pm Kids Kona in the afternoon. During the day, Mum's pots and pans would receive abuse as the whole Matbob house will fall under the might of the trio rock band. Off course Tali would be the star of all our performances often at the disapproval of Bubu Goroka. Our favourite song was Smokie's ‘Living next door to Alice’. The pots and pans would ultimately get their revenge when authority arrives after 5pm. And no matter how much pretense we put up with our behaviour, Bubu Goroka always gets the last laugh with the behavioral report on the wannabe rock band. Mum’s wooden spoon, which would later become useful for serving nangu had its use back then as the long arm of the law. Certainly our backsides understood.  

Between years 1996 and 1999 came Ceolina (Chay) (1996), Thelma (1998) and Elizabeth (1999). We were now a big family and Talitha adopted the big sister role very early. Talitha began her education in 1999 at St Therese Badili, by then I was in grade 4 and Manzo in grade 5.

Tali and Balbina with friends (from left and right). Balbina would perish in the Rabaul Queen sinking in 2012

I remember well her first day at school was a blast, she would never stop talking about her teacher and the class and basically everything that she came across. Off course, we had to pay her visits during recess but when she made friends it was over for me and Manzo (thank goodness!). Life in Port Moresby was one that had all its privileges with Sunday trips to Sogeri and if Mum or Dad felt we deserved it, we’d drop by Big Rooster. Dad’s car stereo usually plays only our favourites like Styx’s ‘Show me the way’, Procol Harum’s ‘Whiter shade of pale’, Matchbox 20’s entire first album, Michael Jackson, MLTR and all those songs which I still play on my touch phone reminiscing on those memories.  

The following year the family moved to Madang so Dad could study at the new university of Divine Word. While Dad lived on campus, we stayed at his village in Rempi and attended St Boniface Primary school. Talitha took a liking to the life in the village as the sea was the attraction. She would find every opportunity to take a dip. It was not long before Dad found accommodation at Lake Lodge in DWU and we had to move into town in June of year 2000.

A big part of our lives was spent inside the university campus. The students and staff we came to know, we watched the development of the university from a dirt road limited infrastructure campus to a high-tech concrete paved institution it is now. All the more, the development of our spiritual lives was shaped and influenced by our parents and our surrounding community on campus. We attended Holy Spirit Primary School with most of our neighbours’ children, and had Sunday and Wednesday masses at the DWU Chapel. Uncle Andrew Porata, Uncle Max and late Br Hugo Audrey were the guys who never missed a school day dropping us off in the mornings and picking us up in the afternoons. The school bus privilege was a blessing because we came to know every kid on campus. What’s more important was that bond developed by the children, there was no demarcation between ancillary, academic or administration staff. We all were just kids anyway! Talitha’s first friends remained her closest until her passing. Francesco, Zeena and Claire. This was something I learnt from her, her ability to maintain friendship and build it was something I take reference from. Talitha received her first Holy Communion and Confirmation at the DWU Chapel.

Talitha's first Holy Communion

In 2002, when Tali was in grade 3; her classmate Michael Wandakun was hit by a speeding vehicle whilst waiting to cross the road. The drunk driver had veered off the road at high speed and hit Michael killing him instantly. The school paid respects to young Michael, myself and Talitha attended his haus krai at the compound behind the fire station. We both walked home as she shared memories of her classmate. A similar fate would be experienced by late Michael's sister, her baby and two others earlier in 2018 not far from the spot Michael was hit 18 years ago.

 Upon completion of her primary education, Talitha was accepted at Tusbab Secondary in 2008. Her favourite teachers were Mr and Mrs Aru, Mr Haru, Mr Semming, Mr Daun and basically the staff of Tusbab Secondary. She would tell me about my former teachers and how they treat her because she is Nathan’s sister (roll eyeballs). Her maturity into talking about social and political issues stemmed well before she entered high school. She would complain about the crime rate in the province and try to reason why is this so. I often listen attentively without saying anything. Her social skills enabled her to have friends in people we’d least expect her to be friends with, she had the knack of making friends. Whatever she disagreed on or was disgusted off, she’d come back home and share it. Talitha was not the kind who’d hold back anything that worried or queried her. 

She continued her matriculation and did business studies as her option 3 course. Talitha was a hard worker in spite of her slowness, a real workhorse who could sit up late drinking granola coffee to finish exercises and assignments. That, I learnt from her! After completing grade 12, she got accepted to do Business Studies at the Madang Technical College (Mateco). Talitha decided to be a boarding student that year, but forfeited her accommodation to a friend from Bougainville named Monica. Monica has become a close friend to me and Theonila when we moved to Arawa in 2014.

Chay, Beth, Tali and Nema (2018)

 Talitha graduated with a Diploma and applied to do Business Studies at DWU, she was admitted in 2013 and did only year 2. She was employed in the accounts section at Madang Butchery in 2014. In early 2017, Talitha was offered a position at the Catholic Archdiocese of Madang under the Education Division.

One year and 4 months into her work at Headquarters Talitha had settled well into her job and had gained good experience and confidence in her work. Our little girl had assumed the role as big brother/sister to her siblings when Almanzo and I left home. Much to her sisters' expectations she was a real spoiler and would get anything for them. She had, moments before her passing posted on Facebook a picture of Puss in Boots in his cute face with a caption "My sister when she needs something from me". Her sisters in reply requested their favourite treats. 

Her sisters' wait that afternoon was a long and unusual one, she would normally walk through the front gate by 5:30pm. That never happened, as the minutes turn to an hour, a friend came running to the house saying that Talitha was hit by a bus. Dad left for the hospital moments later after a security guard informed him to go up to the hospital. News had spread fast, friends started calling, those in Madang rushed up to the hospital. By night, the sisters received the dreadful news.

Stories surrounding the actual accident were many, but Talitha was standing at the usual spot where she waited for a bus every afternoon. And that was the last place she stood. For the numerous times in those many years we both walked past that bus stop, it is difficult for me to ever think it would end for one of us at that spot, even I had close calls with rouge PMV drivers there. The manner which she left, it is hard to digest why it would end like this.

    

Mum, who is employed at the Modilon General Hospital Administration, had been working until her usual time to leave office. As she passed the Emergency Ward on her way to the office, a boy came running to her saying "Anti, wanpla man kar bumpim em na emi slip stap lo emergency (Aunty, someone was hit by a car and is laying in the emergency ward)" Mum, not knowing it was her daughter replied "Aiyo sori tru (Oh that is so sad)". As she neared the office, Chay called her phone saying Talitha was hit by a bus. That moment Mum knew it was her daughter in the emergency. As she made her way down the hospital cleaning staff came running to her saying "Wanpla girl luk olsem yu em slip stap long emergency (A girl who looks like you is in the emergency ward)". The dreadful reality hit Mum before she entered the ward. As she rushed into the room, she found her lifeless daughter laying on the bed.   

A part of me died that fateful afternoon. Though I was more than a thousand kilometres away in the mountains of Panguna, it struck me as a vision I was walking towards the house after training. I saw exactly as how it was described to me later on. I pushed it out of my mind when I thought how silly it was to see such a vision on a beautiful afternoon. I never realized it was happening at that moment! My heart bleeds just thinking of it.

It was the first news waking up on my birthday the next day, and while traveling to Arawa to at least get a proper confirmation, I began receiving condolence messages. It was heart-wrenching. Dumbfounded as I was, and not knowing how to respond or to even believe what had just happened; I kept wiping the tears behind my sun glasses as I walked up section 17 to wait for confirmation of my travel. Theonila and Mario joined me in the afternoon with a packed suitcase. By then, support from our friends and family began pouring in. My best friend and brother Albert paid my way to Madang without hesitation. My wife’s family supported us financially and our trip to Madang was arranged by Dad on the day. However, due to flight scheduling between Buka and Madang, we had to spend a night in Port Moresby. 

We did make it though, but only after her funeral service. As we tried to make way towards the convoy, I was thinking probably three or four vehicles. But it was a sight! More than thirty (30) fully loaded vehicles with police escort had proceeded halfway towards Rempi when we caught up with them at Siar. I was astounded at the amount of support given to my parents and siblings at our lowest time, something I am ever indebted to all who gave without hesitation.     

As I sat down to write up this piece I kept thinking of the times Talitha would knock on my room door at our DWU home to remind me of something or call me for dinner or just checking on me. I get teary when I remember she called me earlier in 2018 telling me of her plans to start off a business and get a block of land and many other things. Her troubles and worries she would share with me; I took them all with heart but never had I realized those would be her memories now. Our communication had increased in 2018 as she’d be asking for advice or just checking up on Mario.  Just three days before she passed away, I called Mum from Arawa letting them know that we were moving to the village. We had a good long chat. Talitha was making fun of everyone with her camera phone taking pictures when they were not looking. As I concluded the call she was the last person to say “Bye big bro, love you!” And that was the last time I heard her voice. She usually says ‘talk later’ or ‘catch!’ I held that thought in the back of my mind as I traveled back to Panguna the next day. The preceding days went by as normal, we were conducting a financial literacy training that week when the news came. 

Talitha left a day after Theonila’s birthday, a day before mine and five days before Mario’s first. September will never be the same for us. Still, I have not gone over the fact we are one less sibling, hence every time I come back to remember she is physically not around, I get teary. A very good friend and Dad’s former student Eva Kuson posted on my facebook wall a day after the tragedy “…your wishes are obvious; you’d want your sister back”. As if she had read my mind, my only wish on that morning was to have her back.  

Tali's final night at home. PC Manzo Matbob (including those below)

Procession to DWU Chapel

At Rempi Village

Final blessings from Fr Pat and then Fr John

 

Talitha's resting place

A month after her passing, she appeared in my sleep. It was the first time since her passing that she appeared. I knew I was asleep. As we walked around the places we grew up and played in, Talitha never said a word. She was only smiling. I woke up wiping tears as Mario came calling Papa and started doing the usual of poking my face. 

As Mum would sadly say; ‘the nest is getting empty’. Referring to the Matbob family home as her kids are moving on one by one. The thing is, five birdies will fly back from time to time. One will not.

 I guess this is the only space I get to share my thoughts about someone whom we share a Mum and Dad. I recall every memory and day dream sometimes if she would still be around 10 years from now, where would she be. Mario will only know her little Mum through pictures and videos. Talitha loved Mario so much! I am glad to have been a part of her 26 years of life. I am proud of her achievements and certainly treasure every memory of her life. Talitha I miss you and certainly you are in Heaven with God looking down at us every day.

Talitha joins a choir of souls who have gone before us in the fateful year of 2018, and it would be just to remember them as well. Charlie Gabuogi, Luisa Henry, Jaqueline Naing, Raymond Baria, Pori Matbob and all our family and friends who have lost a loved one in that year; we remember them all. Rest in Peace my Taliweo.