Port Moresby – 1960s

In the early 1960s, Port Moresby was a city bursting at the seams. As the colonial administration expanded higher education, young Papua New Guineans poured into new training colleges — the Teachers’ College, the Medical College, the Posts and Telegraphs College, and the newly founded Administrative College. These institutions were meant to create a modern professional class. Instead, they exposed students to overcrowded dormitories, broken sanitation, and meagre rations.

An inspection in 1964 found that the Teachers’ College had jammed 192 students into accommodation built for just 112. Beds were lined up with “only inches separating them,” clothes and books piled on makeshift cupboards, and showers and toilets “completely inadequate” for the numbers. [1]

For many, these conditions revealed the contradictions of colonial rule: the same government that preached responsibility and leadership could not provide students with dignity or basic health.

Pull Quote: “The number of beds … gives the impression of being a long sleeping platform instead of individual beds.” — Inspection report, 1964[2]

Outbreaks of hepatitis swept through the staff, and cracked cement floors and broken sewerage lines were part of daily life.

Meanwhile, their education was meant to prepare them for “responsibility” in the colonial administration, yet their pay and status lagged far behind their expatriate counterparts. This gap between promise and reality was the seedbed of political frustration.

[1] PNGNA files- Brad has details

[2] PNGNA files- Brad has details

Frustrations Made Political

May 1964: An example of the political activity and fears of the student population from the Port Moresby Teachers’ College student magazine Memorabilia

The students themselves made the leap from frustration to politics. Memorabilia, the Teachers’ College magazine, became a forum for sharp critique. One editorial warned:

Pull Quote: “Teachers are rapidly being put at a disadvantage … trained for twice as long … yet will only get a quarter of the pay of other people.” — Memorabilia, 1964[1]

Another contributor drew comparisons with African decolonisation, warning that Papua New Guinean teachers risked becoming “the most dissatisfied branch of the Public Service” if colonial inequities continued.[2]

This sense of injustice fuelled the first stirrings of unionism. In 1964, students from across Port Moresby’s four colleges formed an interim committee to investigate establishing a Tertiary Students Federation (TSF). When the federation was inaugurated, Ebia Olewale became president and Joseph Nombri secretary. For the first time, student grievances were organised across institutions and expressed in nationalist terms.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<< IMAGES HERE JON DO YOU HAVE AN IMAGE OF OLEWALE??? WE HAVE ONE OF NOMBRI FROM PAMBU…………………………..>>>>>>>>>>>>

Ted Wolfers’ Dramatic Arrival and Early Teaching at Adcol

Source: NLA 1 Wolfers

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<AUDIO and IMAGE WOLFERS>>>>>>>>>>>

Description

Wolfers recalls his bewildering first arrival in Papua New Guinea, which began with a car crash near Ela Beach and an impromptu welcome from a crowd of onlookers. Soon after, he joined the Administrative College under David Chenoweth, where he set about modernising legal teaching and experimenting with discussion-based classes. These sessions encouraged students—many of whom later became national leaders—to debate contemporary politics, decolonisation, and race relations, sometimes in multiple languages with interpreters. Wolfers also fostered early writing for the New Guinea Quarterly, helping young Papua New Guineans publish under pseudonyms to navigate colonial restrictions on public servants.

Transcript

Everyday Racism

Featured in the May 1970 issue of Pacific Islands Monthly, the article But There’s No Urgency in Prejudiced New Guinea offers a timely critique of the colonial mindset that persisted in Papua New Guinea’s administration. Written around the time when local political movements were gaining traction, the piece examines entrenched prejudices and the slow pace of reform, even as student-led discussions—such as those of the Bully Beef Club—were building momentum toward independence. It presents a striking editorial perspective on why institutional attitudes were lagging behind grassroots aspirations.

Beyond the campus, students encountered daily reminders of inequality. Cinemas enforced segregated seating, buses separated passengers, and many shops refused to serve Papua New Guineans. Journalist Biga Lebasi, then a young reporter at the South Pacific Post, recalled:

Pull Quote: “We were refused service in shops, barred from cinemas, or seated separately on buses … these everyday indignities drove a generation toward political awareness.” — Biga Lebasi

Christine Kaputin’s article “Economic Rents” in Pacific Islands Monthly (November 1966) gives us a rare glimpse into student life in Port Moresby during the 1960s. Writing from her own experiences, she described the daily frustrations of inequality — the unfair pay scales, the limits placed on Papua New Guinean students, the small indignities of colonial life. But she also remembered the energy of the times: the debates that ran long into the night, the friendships that cut across provinces, and the first sparks of nationalist thought. Her piece shows how ordinary moments — meals shared, lectures argued over, magazines passed around — fed directly into the political awakening that became the Bully Beef Club.

In a 1970 Pacific Islands Monthly interview, John Kaputin looked back on his student years with striking honesty. He recalled his time at the Administrative College, where he and his peers confronted the reality of racial inequality in pay and working conditions. For Kaputin, these experiences were not just frustrations — they were the fuel for a surge of student activism that reshaped his life. He spoke of how the energy of those years pushed him from the classroom into politics, setting him on the path to becoming one of Papua New Guinea’s national leaders. His reflections stand alongside Christine Kaputin’s 1966 article, giving us two powerful voices — husband and wife — remembering the same turbulent moment from different vantage points. Together, their accounts capture both the personal struggles and the collective awakening that gave birth to the Bully Beef generation.

Such experiences gave urgency to the dormitory debates. For young students, politics was not abstract. It was the indignity of waiting in one line while expatriates stood in another, the frustration of crowded hostels, and the sting of pay scales that valued their labour at a fraction of their colleagues’.

Biga Lebasi on Independence, Journalism, and the Bully Beef Club

Source: PNG Speaks

[AUDIO HERE: Everyday Racism – Biga Lebasi image, PNG Speaks]

Description

Lebasi recalls first encountering the idea of independence as a schoolboy in the early 1960s through letters to the editor and classroom debates. Influenced by writers such as Gaudi Mira, he began to think critically about self-reliance and responsibility, lessons reinforced in mission schooling where students were made to cook, clean, and manage on their own. At school he also heard of the newly formed Pangu Party and was tempted to join, drawn to the young nationalists who gathered in what became known as the Bully Beef Club. Ultimately, however, Lebasi chose journalism over party politics, recognising the need for independence in reporting. He admits the decision saved him from deeper disillusionment: frustration with colonial control sometimes pushed him toward violent thoughts, but journalism gave him an outlet to channel that energy into writing and critique. In hindsight, he believes his path helped preserve his integrity and allowed him to contribute to independence without losing himself to bitterness or violence.

Transcript

Ted Wolfers on Students, Pangu, and Early Political Alliances

Source: Ted Wolfers NLA 1

<<<<<<<<<Audio Image Ted Wolfers>>>>>>>>

Description

Wolfers recalls tensions in the mid-1960s between students and national politicians. Many students were sceptical of their leaders’ literacy and independence credentials, and deeply frustrated by issues like local pay scales. Wolfers himself built friendships during this period with figures such as Barry Holloway and Tony Voutas, Australian expatriates who became close allies of emerging Papua New Guinean nationalists like Michael Somare and Albert Maori Kiki. He recounts Holloway’s unusual generosity in lending his battered car to students at ADCOL, symbolising trust and solidarity. While Wolfers was not directly involved in the formation of the Pangu Pati in 1967, he observed its emergence closely, recognising it as part of the global tide of decolonisation. Reflecting later, he notes that independence felt inevitable in principle but uncertain in timing, with crises in Bougainville and East New Britain eventually proving pivotal.

Transcript

The Broader City Climate

The inequalities that students faced were mirrored across Port Moresby’s workforce. The Port Moresby Workers’ Association, led later by Oala Oala-Rarua, pressed for equal pay for municipal workers. Teachers lobbied for a stronger federation to defend their rights. Pacific Islands Monthly captured the mood in 1968, warning of “a trade union war in Port Moresby” and accusing the bureaucracy of acting as though “people don’t always matter very much”

<<<<<<<<<IMAGE OF OALA-RARUA>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Student activism fed directly into these broader struggles. Delegations visited worksites, shared information about pay disputes, and invited labour leaders to speak at campus meetings. By the mid-1960s, students were no longer isolated; they were part of a city-wide movement demanding equality and recognition.

Pull Quote: “Without the political education of the 1960s generation … the Bully Beef Club and the Pangu Pati would not have emerged.” — Patti Warn, journalist

Charles Lepani on Decolonisation, Unions, and Political Awareness

Source: PNG Speaks

AUDIO HERE <<<IMAGE>>> CHARLES LEPANI

Description

Lepani reflects on how his political consciousness was shaped both by education abroad and by union activism. Moving from colonial Papua New Guinea to high school in Queensland gave him what he calls an “educational decolonisation,” sharpening his sense of inequality and the need for change. This experience aligned him with the first generation of nationalist leaders, from Michael Somare to John Guise. His activism deepened when he won an ACTU scholarship—arranged with help from Bob Hawke, then a rising trade union advocate. Lepani trained in Australia with unionists such as Paul Munro and Rod Madgwick, immersed himself in anti-Vietnam War and Aboriginal rights protests, and nearly clashed with police during demonstrations in Sydney. He also took part in high-profile debates on independence, including a Four Corners program pitting Gough Whitlam against Territories Minister Charles Barnes. By the time he returned to Papua New Guinea, Lepani was not only politically aware but also armed with the organisational and advocacy skills that would shape his leadership in both the trade union movement and the independence struggle.

Transcript

Planting the Seeds of the Bully Beef Club

Amid this climate of grievance and activism, the networks that would become known as the Bully Beef Club began to form. Students met not only in classrooms and dormitories, but also in homes and informal gatherings. At night, students gathered at Albert Maori Kiki’s house in Hohola, where Elizabeth Kiki cooked for them. Michael Somare remembered arriving hungry, joking that Elizabeth would say, “What do you beggars want?” before serving food that fuelled all-night debates arguing about nationalism and justice.[3]

The Administrative College in particular was remembered as a crucible. Teachers like Ted Wolfers, Tos Barnett, and Cecil Abel actively encouraged political discussion, offering evening classes on independence and ethics. Wolfers later recalled:

Pull Quote: “The students were not just preparing for administration — they were preparing for leadership. And leadership meant politics.” — Ted Wolfers

These informal gatherings — equal parts friendship, politics, and survival — coalesced into a community. Later, when they became known as the Bully Beef Club, they were remembered not for formal organisation, but for the intensity of their conversations and the solidarity of their friendships.

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[1] PNGNA files SUMMARY

[2] PNGNA files SUMMARY

[3] Michael Somare SANA