THE RAINBOW CHILD

Djärimirri, whose name means Child of the Rainbow, is born into the Dhuwa Clan of the Yolŋu peoples. Growing up from a teen pregnancy he’s looked at with both intrigue and suspicion as both he and his mum claim he’s the son of Banumbirr the Creator-Spirit. Most in town however see him merely as another kid working hard for his step-dad's building business.

It’s not till his early 30s he becomes known as an emerging storyteller and wisdom teacher - even though some discard him as an untaught Indigenous builder who hasn’t even been to TAFE, let alone university. Soon after he’s invited to do a TED Talk that’s filled with stories of ethical insights and global greed. From here he gathers round him a following of parking inspectors, plumbers, refugees, protestors and fellow family start-up owners (like his step-dad's but in the fisheries industry).

 

Then sponsored by a woman’s liberation organisation of recovering heroin addicts and high ranking politicians, he and his mob road trip to Sydney to confront the religious groups in the CBD.  They’ve just done a merger with JP Morgan and now share frilly talks to only exclusive members that pay the 10% entry fee. Outwardly they seem to be open to everything but only if it does not tarnish their status.

 

Police then taser Djärimirri for defamation of character and associate him with leaders of a drug ring in Kings Cross. They catch him in an underground pub with prostitutes, drug dealers along with his whole group of conspirators. Or so the story’s framed.

 

Claiming it as an act of terrorism the religious groups with their corrupt network and close ties with the Police and Government secretly detain him to Nauru. Here he’s tortured in unbelievable ways and left to die in custody.

 

Two days later a small obituary in The Sydney Morning Herald shares about his life given over to help others. Unfortunately his downfall, they claim, was getting too close to the dark side of Sydney’s drug scene. If only he became a university lecturer or started up his own religious group or something, they reason.

 

But far away from the city’s commotion and lies, a boat arrives near Manly at dawn. Here three of the women's lib group are on the beach having a grief-stricken chat with coffee. Suddenly they’re startled, then cry with joy as they see Djärimirri, the one they know and love so dearly. Instantly they send a Snapchat to the rest of the group in hiding but receive no reply.

 

Djärimirri then reappears with noticeable cuts and bruises to share fish and chips with his followers hiding from the Police’s continued raids. They’re both shocked and terrified, not sure if what they’re seeing is real or not. But once they hear him talk and eat they know it's him. There may be some that deny this story as hearsay, but it wasn’t just his inner group of mates that saw him, no, hundreds of other Manly locals, plus a boatload of tourists on the ferry, saw him too.

The story of Jesus

set in contemporary Australia