A video went viral the past week. It came from a village in the Southern Highlands. Four people had been accused of sorcery following the death of a young boy.
In the footage, an elderly man is beaten with sticks and sliced with bush knives as he tries to shield his face. A fire burns in the background. Voices shout, “Burn him.” A woman’s cries can be heard as she too is tortured. Others stand by and watch. No one intervenes.
This is Sorcery Accusation Related Violence (SARV) in Papua New Guinea — and it is becoming normal.
Some people online expressed outrage. But deep down, many also believe the same thing: nothing will happen. No arrests. No prosecutions. No accountability.
I say that with confidence because in the Southern Highlands — where I grew up and where my family has lived since the 1940s — the Tribal Foundation is currently supporting multiple SARV cases.
We know the perpetrators. There are eyewitnesses. Victims are under our care. And yet, in several of these cases, authorities have not acted despite our constant efforts.
In a recent conversation, one provincial leader even denied that SARV exists in his province. Denial is easier than responsibility.
But history does not accept denial.
There was a time when slavery was normal in parts of the world we now call “developed.” It was accepted — even by people who considered themselves to be Christians. They justified it by dehumanizing others.
That same pattern is playing out in PNG today.
When someone is accused of sorcery, they are stripped of their humanity. Their suffering becomes acceptable. Their death becomes explainable. And their story becomes forgettable.
We may react with shock when a video surfaces. We may comment. We may shake our heads. But very few step forward to act.
History is watching.
Today, we remember names like William Wilberforce, Abraham Lincoln, and Harriet Tubman because they stood on the right side of history when it was difficult — when it was costly — when it was unpopular.
One day, Papua New Guinea will become a developed nation. And when it does, history will remember who stood against SARV — and who stood by in silence.
It will remember leaders who ignored it.
It will remember corporations and institutions that avoided it.
It will remember citizens who watched and did nothing.
You don’t get to judge the past if you are silent in the present.
Each of us is choosing a side — whether we realize it or not.
So the question is simple: where do you stand?
If you want to stand on the right side of history, then take action. Support the work. Speak up. Step in. Join us at the PNG Tribal Foundation as we lead the fight to end this injustice.
Because while SARV may feel common today, history will not treat it that way, and you will be judged by where you stand while it matters most.