There is a land out in the middle of the vast Pacific.
A land of beauty and majesty like you’ve never seen.
A land that is defined by the ocean and lagoon.
A land where you can throw a rock across the country.
Out there, way out there is a land you’ve never heard of.
A land where Yokwe is a way of life.
A land where the sharks and dolphins and turtles surround
you.
A land that doesn’t have much time.
Way far off there is a land, you may have heard of it.
A land with a Spanish, German and Japanese past.
A land of copra and bob and breadfruit.
A land of diversity and poverty.
This land can barely be seen on any map of the world.
It is a land far from the modern urban landscapes.
It is a land of concrete jungles and majestic outer islands.
It is a land searching for a future.
Off in the middle of the vast Pacific are a people.
A people called Ri-Majol.
A people with a noble and distinguished past.
A people with ancestors who braved the depths of blue water.
Here there are a people whose love for their people is
unsurpassed.
A people looking for justice.
A people who live in the present.
A people who are torn between the modern and manit.
This beautiful land and people will last.
They are fighters and navigators and impoverished.
They will not stand for the desperation and depravity.
They will go down in the legends as courageous and not
entitled.
The Marshall Islands can not be defined in any other way but
by its people.
The present looks dim;
With trash, corruption and lacking healthcare, money and
accountability.
But I’ve met its people.
The Ri-Majol are a strong people.
A people that capture your heart.
I’ve seen a generation that will make The Marshall Islands
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