03/03/2026
My Nywaigi Story
Melisa’s Journey Through her Nywaigi Country
In the heart of my Nywaigi Country, just north of Gurrumbilbarra (Townsville), lies a sanctuary—a healing place known as Little Crystal Creek, Munan Gumburu. For years, this beautiful waterway has been my refuge, a spot where the relentless noise of the outside world fades away. As I stand at the creek, the crystal-clear waters rush by, soothing my body and invigorating my spirit. Here, the whispers of my ancestors surround me, touching me, watching over me, guiding and protecting me as I walk across the land, reminding me of the deep connections to my heritage. I feel safe.
As I listen to the delightful songs of the birds, I am transported back to Mungalla, where the air is filled with the sounds of nature. It feels revitalising to be back on country, where I can walk freely, inhale the fresh, crisp air, and revel in the beauty of the rainforest that envelops me. The majestic palms sway gently, and the melody of crashing waves from Forest Beach reminds me of the horizon stretching over to the great Palm Islands.
Yet, amidst this breathtaking beauty lies a shadow—a dark history woven into the fabric of the land. Driving through Halifax towards Lucinda, the memories flood my mind. As I cross the bridge over the Herbert River, I cannot help but think of my grandfather, who was born on its banks. His stories echo in my heart, tales of resilience and struggle faced by our people. It was out of his control but he had to abide by the orders of demand from the White Protector for fear of being punished simply for protecting his family.
Under the oppressive Act, my family was forcibly taken to Palm Island, uprooted and thrust into a world that sought to strip us of our identity. We were forced to conform, to adapt to a lifestyle foreign to our spirits. And so, I imagine the lives of my ancestors as I pass The Gardens, picturing South Sea Islanders trapped in a cycle of toil and heartache, laboring under harsh conditions to build the sugar cane farms that profited others. They worked tirelessly, their sweat pouring into the very earth from which they were denied their due.
Mothers, who should have cradled their own babies, were compelled to care for white infants, their own children left yearning for love and nurture. I acknowledge this painful history; it’s a part of our journey that cannot be forgotten.
With every step I take on this sacred ground, I carry their stories, their pain, and their joy. My heart swells with appreciation for the beauty surrounding me, yet it aches with the weight of our past. I am a guardian of these memories—past and present intertwined—and I honor them with every breath I take in Nywaigi Country.
As I walk away from Little Crystal Creek, I know that the land speaks to me, tells me to cherish my roots and to never forget the journey my people undertook. The stories of resilience live on, and as I emerge from the forest, I breathe in the promise that, like the crystal-clear waters, we will continue to flow forward, heal, and thrive.
Written by Melisa Drummond-Anderson, Nywaigi Traditional Owner.