Title: When Peace Becomes the Greater Victory

The whole of last week was both satisfying and relieving for me. The long-standing issue with the contractor has finally come to an end. The final resolution from PPIC was signed, the variations were verified, and the payout to the contractor was raised. For my part, I declined to be a witness to the resolution. This was not because of disagreement or resentment, but simply a personal decision—an exercise of my right to step back after everything that had unfolded. Through this experience, I learned something deeper about working within church institutions like ACOM. In many organizational environments, the focus is often on being technically right—ensuring that every clause, every condition, and every loophole in a contract is addressed. But within a church organization, there is often a higher priority that guides decision-making. Peace. Peace between people. Peace between the parties involved. Peace within the institution itself. Sometimes, from a purely contractual or professional ...

Losing Our Mother Tongue: A Wake-Up Call


 Today I had a casual conversation with one of my work colleagues, who is also a fellow Kwara'ae speaker. What started as a simple chat turned into a sad realization: many of us in this generation can no longer count properly in our own mother tongue.

We can easily count in English — 1, 2, 3, 4, up to 10 and beyond. But when it comes to our own language, most of us only manage to count up to 10, and even then we struggle. Beyond ten, we are lost.

This really opened my eyes. We went through school learning everything in English, including basic counting, and we ignored or were never taught how to count in our own language. We grew up fluent in English numbers, yet disconnected from something so basic and meaningful in our cultural identity.

It is sad, and it is worrying. Because if we, the current generation, already struggle with something as simple as counting in Kwara'ae, what will happen to our children? What will they inherit? A language they can barely speak? A culture they cannot fully claim?

And this is not just a Kwara'ae issue. It is a common reality across many languages in Solomon Islands. So many of our children grow up speaking English or Pijin more confidently than their mother tongue. Slowly, quietly, our languages are fading.

I truly hope that our responsible authorities, educators, and community leaders will seriously re-look at preserving our languages. These are not just words — they are our identity, our history, our connection to our land and ancestors.

If we lose our languages, we lose a part of who we are.

If you like reading this, also Dreamy 2:30 PM

read https://solvoice.blogspot.com/2025/12/a-dreamy-230-pm-between-procurement.html?m=1

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