Poem by Alice Eather
Djiya wiba yinyirra
Ngana Maningrida yo
Djiya wiba yinyirra
People ask me for my story
but my story is your story
My feet are in the dirt
and the dirt it speaks in dust
and the trees they speak in leaves
like the people speak in trust
and the water speaks in waves
and the dust is in the wind
so the Country covers my skin
and this skin covers this body
And this body has a message in this chest that carries messages from my ancestors on what to do against a threat
And these messages come to me in dreams
and I’ve collected so many now
they’re asking me to speak
People ask me for my story
but I thought my story was your story
When I see a map of Country
I see land, sea and family
When they see a map of Country
they see mining fantasies
When I see the sea-beds
I see sacred sites
When they see the sea-beds
they see dollar signs
When I see exploration permit 266
I see them trying to reduce my country into three digits
When I see Yirridja and Dhuwa Country
I see everything that is our Moiety
When they see Yirridja and Dhuwa Country
They see the future of the oil and gas industry
When I see the tides rise and fall
Kabalala karapa kakaja
I can read the storms
When they see the tides rise and fall
They just want to find out
what’s under it all
It’s funny how they want to dig deep
but act so shallow
So I say
Koma!
Ngika!
No!
Saltwater people say
Koma!
Ngika!
No!
Wùnal Clan say
Koma!
Ngika!
No!
People ask me for my story
but my story is your story
When you cry
Don’t you cry the ocean?
When you sweat
Don’t you sweat the ocean?
When you drink
Don’t you drink the rivers and the rain
And when you wash
Don’t you wash into that ocean
so the cycle can start again?
When we cry
We cry the ocean
When we sweat
We sweat the ocean
When we drink
We drink the rivers and the rain
and we wash into that ocean
so the cycle can start again.