This Too Shall Pass

Adrian Mara writes about uncertainties after retirement from the constabulary

I just spent some time at the courthouse here in Lae today, and it really hit me hard. I was observing a legal battle between retired police officers and the department over unpaid entitlements, and what I witnessed was far more than just a legal case.

It wasn’t just the retirees in that courtroom. Their children, and even their grandchildren, were there too, sitting, waiting, and hoping for some kind of resolution. It showed me just how deep and far-reaching these financial disputes can go. They don’t just affect the person retiring; they ripple through families, across generations.

It also made me reflect on the importance of financial planning after service. From what I observed, many of the retirees didn’t seem to have a clear long-term plan. When money did come in, a lot of it went out just as fast—spent on flashy items or short-term enjoyment.

There was also this silent belief among some of their children that they’d live in the barracks forever, enjoying free housing, water, and power. Sadly, it looked like many of them didn’t take school seriously either. Now, even with their parents retired, they’re still depending on them for survival.

The fear I saw in those retirees’ eyes was real—fear not just for themselves, but for their children and their grandchildren. One retiree’s unspoken thoughts seemed to fill the room:

“I’ve looked after you your whole life. Now I’m also helping raise your children. I thought by now, you would be the one helping me. But instead, you’re still turning to me for support.”

That got me thinking about my own journey. I’ve been in that place. I finished college, got a job, and left it. I got another and left that one too. Why? Because my mum was still working, and I was living in her house. I was comfortable. I thought I had time.

But one night, something hit me hard. I thought to myself: What if my mum passed away? What would I do? That fear—that sudden awareness—shook me awake.

It was that fear that pushed me to join the Constabulary. I was looking for stability and purpose. Today, sitting in that courtroom and watching those retirees, that same fear returned: What happens when I leave the force? What’s my plan?

I’ve got maybe two decades left before retirement catches up with me. That’s not a long time. So now I’m constantly thinking, planning, and preparing. Meanwhile, I see some of my colleagues partying, gambling, and drinking… but the curtain will fall for all of us one day. And when it does, what then?

So, to the young ones today, I say this:

The money, the car, the clothes, the respect—they’re not yours. They belong to your mum or dad. What you’re enjoying now is their sacrifice, not your success.

Make the most of the roof over your head. Be grateful for the free water and electricity. Don’t let comfort make you lazy. Don’t waste the gift of education.

“This too shall pass.”

That saying doesn’t only apply to hard times. It applies to the good times too. That free ride won’t last forever.

Start preparing now.