THE PATIENT PEOPLE OF INDAGEN

Indagen is an easy-to-miss, hidden community of six hamlets nestled within the peaks of the Saruwaged Range, accessible by air and foot. A chilly mountain breeze greets you with the scent of fresh shrubbery as soon as the pilot opens the cabin door. The landing strip is already crowded with village curiosity. A few minutes to explain your purpose and the sights of smiling faces and excited children running ahead of you into the village tell you you’re welcome.

The villagers eagerly pick your bags and equipment and lead you to the health centre. A senior colleague in the team tells you the last patrol was 20 years ago. Health services have since been effectively non-existent to these people. We arrive at the health centre and are impressed at the remarkably good state it is in. The building is well kept and clean. A pretty flower garden with berry laden shrubs welcomes you at the front. Inspection inside shows empty shelves – no drugs, bandages, IV fluids, drip lines and basic consumables.

Runway at Indagen

The local health workers sadly tell you, “Planti marasin nogat. Planti manmeri sawe sik na dai tasol lo haus.” Word of our arrival was quickly sent by running messengers to all the nearby villages that a health patrol was finally there.

In the three days of clinics, health awareness and minor surgeries we attended to over 400 people. Each person happy to wait all day in line just for a chance to be seen. By Day 2 our supplies were running out. It was heart-breaking attending to people who walked for 4-5 hours over three mountain ranges just to receive basic medical advice and six tablets of Panadol to take home.

Morobe clinic patrol at Indagen

The relativity of value became clear: to sit for two hours in POMGEN and receive only Panadol would result in a tantrum – but to these people, after 20 years of waiting and five hours of walking it meant receiving service. I had never known how severely marginalised people could be that they would accept less than the minimum with a grateful heart.

Our mission was to give, but we received more in return. We received a lesson in humanity from forgotten people who appreciated the little they had and never acted victimised by the harshness of their circumstances. Each day saw abundant fresh garden produce and beautiful bouquets on our tables, warm smiles and exceptional hospitality. their next visitor will bring. With heavy hearts we left them waiting patiently in the mountains for the next time a glimmer of service will arrive at their doorstep.

Story and photos by Samuel Mori