Papua New Guinea is celebrating 50 years of independence in September across the country.

Port Moresby is alive with parades, cultural performances, dancing, and fireworks over Ela Beach.

From Kiama I’ve been watching the celebrations unfold online, seeing crowds gather, just like they did 50 years ago.

Belle (on guitar) with friends still in contact at Boroko East Primary 1975

But for me, these events aren’t just headlines - they’re a vivid journey back to 1975, when I was an 11-year-old schoolgirl in Port Moresby, swept up in the excitement of a new nation’s birth.

Life in PNG back then was an adventure. I remember weekend drives to Brown River in our lime-green Holden. From the car we’d spot what looked like floating logs in the water, only to realise they were crocodiles.

Swarms of brilliant blue emperor butterflies would cloud the air and before we could unpack, local villagers would surround us, selling hand-carved spears. We bought so many that eventually we had to carry some in the car, just to show we already owned enough.

At home, nature was never far away. Our garden was strung with colourful orb spiders on their stationary webs and during the wet season, the floods came like clockwork.

Our stilt house was safe, but the little house belonging to our “haus boi” would often be knee-deep in water.

I can still picture him laughing and swimming through a metre of floodwater. Life in PNG had a resilience and humour about it.

Prince Charles looks on as Prime Minister Michael Somare speaks in 1975.

The markets were a feast for the senses - brightly coloured meri dresses – which my mother still wears to this day, bilum bags that were slung over women’s heads carrying everything from stores to babies, and betelnut-stained smiles.

Carpet snakes were even sold at the local markets. I remember desperately wanting one, and the parental pleading that followed.

Dad, a blood specialist, was busy running the PNG Blood Transfusion Service and Red Cross, but to me he was also the man who once tried to help a stranded Toyota ute in the Highlands.

Mechanical skills were not his forte - but it turned out to be the fuel gauge.

“E” for “enough”, and F for “finish”. Once on a flight in a Fokker friendship plane to the highlands, he could not disembark as there was a crocodile on the runway impeding a safe exit. Such were the stories in our day-to-day life.

Belle and younger sisters with 'haus-boi' Kako

We spent time at Ela Beach, diving for sea slugs off the pontoon and learning Pidgin English.

“Yu wantem katim gras?” was one of the first phrases I mastered.

Picking giant snails off our foliage before school in the mornings, hibiscus bushes in proliferation and fabulous flora and fauna.

Other memories are bittersweet - crying at the annual pig slaughters, trips to the annual 'Sing-sing' festivals or engaged as we watched the local women’s cricket matches played on the rugby fields behind our house. The heavy hitters had their children – pikininis - running the pitches for them. Everyday life was colourful, lively, and deeply connected to the uniqueness of PNG.

Even our newspaper was part of that rhythm. The Post-Courier carried serialised Phantom comic strips, and the whole town seemed to wait eagerly for the next instalment.

The masked jungle hero was relatable to many Papua New Guineans, and soon advertising agencies had the Phantom promoting everything from toothpaste to beer. “The Phantom drinks DB Beer” read one billboard slogan.

In hindsight, that kind of marketing was not particularly helpful in a country already facing challenges with alcohol. But at the time, it added to the surreal sense of living in a storybook.

Boroko East Primary was the heart of my world, and in the early 1970s it became a hub of national imagination as we celebrated self government, followed by independence.

We brainstormed designs for a new flag, filling pages with bold colours and birds of paradise. The final design was created by Susan Karike Huhume, another student like us, but our efforts made us feel part of history.

We also debated what the new currency should look like. The kina and toea coins were finally introduced, inspired by traditional shell money, and were a source of cultural pride.

Independence itself came to life on September 16, 1975, at Independence Hill. I was one of the lucky few chosen as a Girl Guide for the honour line-up at the main celebrations.

Dressed in our guide uniforms and badges, we lined up in the tropical heat as Prince Charles, representing Queen Elizabeth II, shook hands along the rows.

The Australian flag was then lowered respectfully and our unique flag showcasing the national emblem - The Bird of Paradise - rose for the first time.

The crowd erupted with cheers, kundu drums rolled like thunder, dancing erupted and in that moment, I felt I was standing inside history itself.

Prince Edward at the 2025 50th anniversary celebrations.

Our school celebrated every milestone on the way to that day - mock parliaments, skits about unity across 800 languages, and class performances. We learned the names of our new leaders, and in my own neighbourhood in Boroko, Grand Chief Michael Somare himself lived just a street away.

For us children, independence wasn’t abstract. It was real, tangible and ours. Many of us are still in touch 50 years later.

Fast-forward to 2025, and the Golden Jubilee celebrations have presented a rich blend of tradition and progress.

In Port Moresby, the flag has been raised again in reenactments, leaders have reflected on how far the country has come and schoolchildren are once again learning the meaning of self-government and independence.

Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and PNG counterpart James Marape signing what is to be known as the 'Puk-Puk' Treaty - pic PNG Business News

PNG has faced challenges in those 50 years - balancing economic growth, environmental care, and cultural preservation - but the spirit of 1975 still endures.

For me, those early days instilled a deep pride in a Melanesian heritage, and the conviction that young voices can matter.

To all the Papua New Guineans and expats who are celebrating this month in PNG and through Australia and New Zealand: we remember these moments.

Independence isn’t just a date in the calendar. It is a legacy, woven from all the colour and vibrancy of Papua New Guinea.

Here’s to another 50 years of unity, colour, and the unshakeable PNG spirit.

Wanpela kantri, wanpela pipol!