I met Chief Ieru one afternoon as he was walking home on the road out of Lenakel. We gave him a lift for a few kilometres.
In return for the ride and some small change, he agreed to pose for me.
Then he sang me a song. In a baritone voice smooth as an old oak cask, he improvised a bantering verse that, among other things, listed every community in Port Vila, from Freswota 1,2,3,4 and 5 to Mele, Mele Maat and the underwater post office at Hideaway Island.
It was one of the more impressive examples of comedic improvisation I’ve seen in years.