Identity & Name

My Arabised, Islamised, and Indonesianised name — ‘Yamin’ — was given to me by an Indonesian primary school teacher in my village. This name, like almost all names given to Papuans born after Western Christianisation, Islamisation, and Indonesianisation, represents the deepest stratum of the Papuan identity holocaust: the deletion and rewriting of identity through naming.

The main argument of my writing is to confront and dismantle this imposed identity—to address how naming became the starting point of what I describe as Psycho-Cosmocide virus infection.

My goal is to motivate the will to recreate and reclaim Papuan being by challenging the legacy of renaming.

Kogoya is my original Papuan ancestral clan name. Think of it as a cosmological passport: not only is it unchangeable like a state-issued ID, but it also serves as a link to a complex web of Papuan cosmological relationships—connecting other clans, land, the cosmos, history, and meaning. There are other key code names and identifiers that specify which clans I belong to on my mother’s and father’s sides, but for security reasons, I cannot write them here.

 

Public Identity 

In publications, I am known as a West Papuan scholar, independent researcher, writer, activist, cultural philosopher, anthropologist, and indigenous cosmological thinker…so on and so forth...

Sometimes, when writing about Civilisational Psycho-Cosmocide, I call myself a neurosurgeon of Psycho-Cosmocide Studies.

All these labels and titles are for publication purposes — familiar currency for a global audience. You are free to call me anything you like, based on everything you have read I have written. Feel free to name, rename, or de-name me according to what you think I am about. This I leave entirely to you.

“I am Papuan, from the island of New Guinea — not with pride, but with dilemma, paradox, and a sense of deep tragedy and fire.”

Even to say that I am “Papuan” or “West Papuan” is itself ironic — these are externally imposed identities. The central argument of my work is that such impositions, beginning with naming, are part of a civilisational project that dissected, renamed, and infected this ancient island. This project constructed a grand civilisational myth, resulting in a profound Papuan cosmological exile: not merely physical, but metaphysical, linguistic, historical, and eschatological.

 

Language & Authorship

Every word and concept in my writing is borrowed from an imperial language. None are originally mine.

What I do — and what may be considered mine — is in how and why these borrowed words, phrases, and terms are assembled and used: to point you toward someone, something, somewhere, or nowhere. Imagine a chief who selects and mixes ingredients to make a dish—this is a metaphor for my writing process, using only borrowed language, where the tools, ingredients, and attire are never his own, but the act of creation is.

I coined the term ‘Psycho-Cosmocide’ in 2025 in my book Papuan Tragedy: 300 Warnings From The Edge of Extinction. Throughout this work, you will encounter many such deliberately assembled terms—strange, new, and confusing. These are diagnostic instruments, naming the current state of Papuan society under Indonesian settler occupation, international corporate exploitation, and the broader condition of colonised and Indigenous peoples at the civilisation level.

 

What this work is - and is not

Everything here and in all works under this paradigm—books, journals, articles, or social media—is not an answer. It is a question, a provocation, a tool to make you cold, warm, and then hot. It aims to unsettle, create discomfort, and provoke hunger, thirst, or anger—pushing you not toward my answer but toward your own, shaped by your needs and situation.

“These frameworks, paradigms, and thinking maps are not prescriptions. They are instruments of questioning — not repositories of answers.”

This work does not describe your world, analyse it for you, or offer practical guidance on daily challenges—how to find food, achieve status, or gain legitimacy as a leader or diplomat. That is not its purpose.

This work proposes something more fundamental: a new language, a new image, a new symbol, a new colour, a new mind, a new weapon, a new interior landscape, a new atlas of reality.

It is an invitation to ascend — to climb to the top of the mountain and look out over the vast valley of civilisation. To witness its full terrain: the crime scenes and the floods, the demons and the prophets, the villains and the heroes, the warriors and the innocents, the guilty and those caught between. Not to be told what to see — but to learn how to look and why.

This work will not heal your wounds, exile, displacement, homelessness, pain, or grief. Instead, it places in your hands a diagnostic instrument and conceptual materials to build your own antidote—fit for your journey toward wholeness.

Whatever diagnoses and remedies proposed here reflect my own long journey of research, understanding, misunderstanding, trail, fall and resurrection shaped by a lifetime spent at the intersection of exile and return. They are offered not as the final word, but as a crossroads between collapse and beginning.

The final and ultimate victory of colonised (natural people) or Indigenous people of Papua and worldwide is not to make these writings your gods, saviours, gospels, or answers. They are only meant to wake you up, help you regain your consciousness, give you a new electric shock to awaken you from the long-induced coma state of the Psycho-Cosmocide virus — in the emergency room of your extinction.

These writings — and all my writings — seek to reclaim and reassert our capacity to rename, redefine, redescribe, recategorise, and reclassify what has been desecrated and controlled by others.

To truly achieve this, we (colonised Papuans and Melanesians) need a new language. We cannot imagine a new world, a new reality, a new cosmos, a new possibility, or a new being through a colonial, imperial-imposed language, image, symbol and colour. 

 

What Papua means to me

If you want to know what, how, and why I think about Papua and everything else the way I do, it all comes down to these two main declarations:

 

“Even if I am in heaven, surrounded by beautiful white gods, white angels, white gardens, white rainbows, and white food — white everything — living in eternal happiness, if I hear that Papuans on this planet called Earth have regained their stolen land and sovereignty, I will leave that heaven immediately, without telling the gods who rule that dimension, and return to my home: Papua.”

 

“Even if I am in hell, surrounded by darkness, fire, pain, suffering, death, and monsters — if I hear that my land and my home’s sovereignty has been stolen forever and occupied by foreigners, and I am allowed to return, I will never leave that hell.”