A local re-imagining of a global street basketball program is offering safe shelter from the mean streets of Papua New Guinea's capital.
Growing up, Moi Muri's world was ruled by raskols.
Murder and mayhem are the trademarks of these merciless street gangs and he was lucky to escape with his life.
Many others didn't.
Moi and his wife Joyce are still grieving the loss of their youngest son, Bomai, a teenage basketball star killed in a car-jacking gone wrong.
"I've seen many things," he says.
"Some I want to forget. I sometimes got involved. It was right in my face."
Steve Knight has also seen things, but from a vastly different perspective, as an Australian Federal Police officer serving in East Timor, the Solomon Islands and PNG.
The pair share a common faith - the hope of hoops.
"Kaugere is one place in the day and another place in the night," Moi says, the PNG Under 15 women's coach soaking up the morning sun as people of all ages play on the dusty asphalt court in the centre of the village.
"There's temptation here."
After dark, layups and long bombs are replaced by drinking, drugs, rape and extreme, often-fatal violence.
In contrast to Kaugere's gritty streets and alleyways, just four kilometres away stands the grand Taurama Aquatic and Indoor Centre.
Built at the cost of $240M PNG Kina ($100M AUD) for the 2015 Pacific Games, it's widely criticised for being off limits to the "average" PNG person.
But on a Friday night during Twilight Basketball, its doors are flung open for families to play ball - families who would otherwise be on the mean streets of Port Moresby.
Hundreds make the hour-long trek from Kaugere on foot.
Families in Gerehu, Hohola and other notorious suburbs from all compass points do likewise and as the sun sinks in the capital, Friday night fear turns to fun.
"At nights after events like this, before I sleep, I stand on my balcony and look at the lights of Port Moresby and wonder how many lives we saved today," says Basketball Federation of PNG's Nick Daroa.
It's not hyperbole.
"It is a bit hard here to get everyone home," says Steve who, while driving around Port Moresby with former PNG Basketball boss Joel Khalu, imagined a local version of "Midnight Basketball" - a similar program found across the globe.
"We couldn't really run midnight basketball but the kids were ready.
"They don't really have too much to do and the opportunity to come and play free basketball, on a hard court with proper rings was too good to resist.
"A lot of kids came very quickly."
Two thousand in one night is the record.
Signe Dalsgaard, a Senior Lecturer at University of Papua New Guinea School of Law is closely watching the Australian aid-backed program.
"Right in the beginning, you could see who belonged to whom," she says.
"There was a gender divide, there was a race divide - it took time, but suddenly we had mixed teams.
"You don't leave your lived reality from the street when you walk through the door but because the focus is just on basketball, it breaks down barriers."
This happens between players and with police.
"They don't have a great relationship," Steve explains after working on the front lines with the PNG police.
"The police are well feared here so it was good to break down that barrier, to have the kids come and play against the police.
"People then talk to them when they see police in the street now."
Now 59 years old, Moi Muri has 10 grandchildren to protect.
"Raskols are still here but it is not about stopping things - it is about minimising and keeping our young kids away from bad things.
"I've seen kids change.
"I walked away because I got involved in basketball. You can choose this as a way to be seen."
Moi and many others are banking on basketball to lead many of Kaugere's kids at the crossroads out of the darkness and toward the "Twilight".
This story was produced by ABC International Development as part of the Pacific Sports Partnerships funded by the Australian Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade.