by I have told this story before but I want to point out an important aspect of it at the time of the incident.
In 2011, I was held up at gun point along the Kanage Street beside the hills in 5 Mile, Port Moresby. During the incident I realized some things that made me appreciate the many years I spent training in the Martial Arts and the philosophies I’ve studied with it.
Instead of panicking and freezing, I was calm and focused on the situation. I assessed the threat, took in my surroundings and analysed the attackers.
I dug into my brain and nervous system to bring my senses to life and activate my muscle memory. My eyes wondering, scanning, registering.
In that time I also made peace with myself. I didn’t think of family, friends or loved ones. I turned inward; my thoughts were of all the people who have taught me over the years in the different fighting styles and special traditional art forms. Each of their faces and names flashed in my head, their voices distantly echoing familiar advice and drills.
Then my Sifu’s face came up. I spoke to him as if he was there with me.
“Thank you, Sifu and every one of you for all the training and challenges that you put me through. Today, I will put them to the test. After this we will know if I live or I die.” Then, I said a quick prayer. It all happened in less than two minutes – physical, mental and spiritual.
There were three of them. The middle man had a gun and shouted threats. The other two were unarmed and tried to flank me. I turned to face them.
The man on my right was the first to go. I sent him into the nearby bushy ditch with a right leg side-kick. The other on the left held back when he saw that. I quickly turned to the gun man. He held the weapon to his chest with the muzzle pointing away to the side. I took the opportunity and stepped forward to trap it and strike him down. I wasn’t quick enough as he retreated opening the gap between us. All he had to do now was turn the pistol in my direction, extend his arm and pull the trigger.
I was out of luck but still kept my wits and without another second, swung round my big black bag pack to the front. It had some books, clothes and stuff that I thought will cushion the blow if he fires.
I braced myself and waited. It didn’t come. I watched as they retreated slowly and then turn and run to cover. There was no one else on that stretch of road.
Swinging the bag back into place I too turned and hurried towards the opening at the edge of the street where there was a small market and bus stop.
There, I turned my body to the warm evening sun. It felt good as my heightened senses slowly returned to normal. I closed my eyes as the cool breeze splashed onto my face. In that moment I made a special pact, with God and myself.
“Thank you Lord, for watching over me today. Thank you for the abilities that I have and for giving me energy to turn up for training every time. Thank you for the people who were kind and committed enough to pass on this knowledge,” I said quietly.
“I make this promise to you and to myself that I will continue to practice my Kung Fu, Karate and the wider Martial Arts for the rest of my life, and when I am old and worn, I will pass it on to another strong young Warrior to be the next guardian of this special knowledge.” A gust of wind blew up and over me as if sealing the agreement. I went home feeling thankful, confident and safe but humbled
