The news magazine of the South Pacific · since 1930

Pacific Islands Monthly, 19 July 1932Vol. II, No. 12

Why Goaribari Is No Longer A Cannibal.

p. 32 · Read in the full issue

From Our Own Correspondent.

Port Moresby, May 5.

ALTHOUGH not all Papuans are, or ever have been, cannibals, canni balism was, until recent years, very widely practised.

Some tribes ate their enemies after a successful raid, more as a form of triumphant celebration than anything else; others believed that by eating the flesh of their dead foes they absorbed into themselves whatever good and manly qualities the deceased might have possessed.

Among the Purari Delta people cer tain tribal ceremonies called for the eating of a human body, and raids were organised for the sole purpose of pro viding a victim. But there are tribes who ate human flesh because they liked it, and found in it a pleasant change from a monotonous diet.

There is a very virile tribe in the re mote Sambarigi valley. The journey from the nearest government station occupies ten days of very strenuous travel; but, as a result of several visits, the Government have placed them selves on excellent terms with these war-like people.

On one such visit, a member of the Armed Native Constabulary died, and was buried by his companions. On the following morning, the patrol officer noticed several Sambarigi men re-open ing the grave, and at once protested against the desecration. The chief promptly stopped the proceedings and apologised. He explained that his

people had not eaten meat for some weeks and that he had not thought that the white man had any further interest in the dead native.

Needless to say, the Government have set their faces sternly against the practice, and, though there can be no doubt that cannibalism still exists, even among natives who have been remotely under Government influence, it is not nearly so general as formerly, and is indulged in only surreptitiously.

A Government official was patrolling the Goaribari district, where Chalmers, the missionary, was eaten some thirty years ago, and talked to one of the old men in the village of Dopima.

“Did you ever eat man?” he asked.

The old reprobate was hurt, and re plied indignantly that he had, of course, eaten man many times; obviously re senting the implication that he was such a weakling, or of so little import ance as to have been excluded from the delectable feasts, “But you don’t eat man now?” sug gested the official, hoping for a testi monial to the efficiency of Governmental methods.

“No,” replied the old man, “for a long time I have not eaten man.”

This sounded promising, and the of ficial probed a little deeper.

“Why is it that you do not eat men’s flesh now?” he asked, hopefully.

“I can’t,” replied the ancient, sadly. ‘Tve got no teeth!”