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Don’t cry for Nauru

AFTER reading Irene Nisbet’s report on Nauru {PIM March, 1991), I would guess that the Nauru government would refuse her a visa next time. Her article documents accurately the real story of life on Nauru, just as many journalists before her have done. But the Nauruans learn no lessons. They only react defensively by steadily

sacking those well-meaning expats

foolish enough to try and help the Nauruans improve their lot.

Many of my friends have been deported. Often the reason was trivial, perhaps the result of genuine attempts to run the education, health or public service more efficiently. An inebriated politician could take a dislike to you, and a reason to cancel your contract concocted. Sometimes a tapped phone call to an overseas relative would be sufficient reason for you to pack your

bags. In 1989, the Australian High Commissioner was declared persona non grata because the High Commissioner dared to report her misgivings of safety aspects of Air Nauru, to her government in Canberra.

The Australian Government made a token protest, much to the dismay of the Australian expatriates on Nauru. The costs involved in the continuous round of hiring and firing of expats is substantial, but ignored by the chief secretary and the politicians.

Your readers should not waste tears on the people of Nauru, and the demise of their beer-sodden atoll. The Nauru shamelessly exploit island workers from the Solomons, Phillipines, Kiribati and Tuvalu and make them live under atrocious conditions on peanut wages.

The hundreds of millions of dollars squandered on fuel for empty boeings, or on countless round-the-world jaunts could better have been spent on improving living conditions for expat Pacific Islanders, on proper water supplies, a modern education system, and decent hospital facilities. Better

still, phosphate profits should have been spent on land repair, yet not a cent was used for that vital purpose.

Nauru could have become an island

paradise, given the right leadership.

Instead, a 50 per cent absenteeism in

the schools, cheaply bought, doubtfully

qualified Indian medical staff, a rat infested, government-owned supermarket and hotel, and, sadly, the many headstones of hundreds of Nauruan youth dead of alcohol-related disasters, paint the true picture of Nauru 1991.

After independence, the politicians of Nauru sank the phosphate profits, and their islands future, into the bottomless

pit of flag-waving aircraft, rusty ships,

and doubtful investments.

Even if the Nauruans finally win reparations money in the world court, one doubts if it will be spent on land rehabilitation. More likely it will go on lawyers’ fees, more Boeings and tons more twisties from Suva, to go with the Fosters. No, don’t cry for Nauru.

Jack Johnson Cheshire, England