Sometimes accusers come from within the family: Eriko Fufurefa, who runs the KAFE Women's Association, a feminist group in Eastern Highlands, says that the nephew of a local politician blamed his own mother for his uncle's death.
“They chopped her with a machete and beat her with iron bars,” says Ms Fufurefa, putting her in hospital for a month.
This too has grown more common: Ms Kakebeeke says accused sorcerers used to be dispatched quietly, at night.
Now they are subjected to “public torture spectacles—it has become a mass movement”.
Belief in sorcery is widespread in PNG.
Only in 2013 did the government repeal a law that criminalised sorcery and allowed accusations of witchcraft as a defence in murder cases.
Locals do not believe that sorcerers or witches are inherently malign: many claim—or believe in—magical healing powers, and the ability to bring favourable weather.
Monica Paulus is a human-rights activist whose brother once accused her of using sorcery to kill their father (she thinks he wanted the family house).
She tells people they have a right to believe what they want, but “they do not have the right to cause violence or take a life.”
She also reminds people that, as Christians, they believe that the body dies, but the spirit lives.
The spirit, she says with a glint in her eye, “will find another body to live in, and it could be you: if you kill a witch, that means you could become a witch yourself.”