A Box of Thistles

Kunanyi (Mt Wellington) is considered a special place by First Nations people. It is described in the original ‘creation stories’ passed on orally through the generations. “For Palawa woman Sharnie Read, the natural land mass is considered a sacred place where ancestors’ spirits are laid to rest.”

I didn’t know anything about this beautiful, special place before I saw a Facebook post by Ali Pottinger from Squadrun asking if anyone was keen to run in the Kunanyi Mountain Festival. When I watched the promo video, I was hooked! As I said to Ali in the conversation I had with her for Dirt Church Radio, it was the ‘sexy, skyline ridge’ that grabbed me! I love getting up high, looking down on the world and seeing it in all its splendour. It grounds me when I see how vast the world is and how small I am.

The 46km Alpine Marathon was a first for 2025, with only 100 entrants, and we had to show that we were capable of navigating challenging terrain with little or no support. The legs were long, remote and exposed. Could I? Should I? I wanted to!

It was also my birthday the week of the event – what a great way to spend it – in Tasmania – a bucket list destination, and pushing myself to take on a challenge. It was my sort of event, heaps of elevation, rugged and varied terrain, ‘sexy skyline ridge’, some scrambling and some running. I wouldn’t have to run the whole thing – plenty of excuses to walk!

I hit ‘enter’ on the 46km Alpine Marathon in one of those ‘do or die’ moments. If I thought about it too much, I would talk myself out of it – too old, not good enough, too challenging, too difficult …. Once done, there was no going back, and I just had to make sure I could get to the start line!

I’ll fast-forward through the next eight months of training. It was a mixed bag, as training often is: some days were great, others were, to put it mildly, ‘stink.’ Summer saw me in Te Wai Pounamu climbing every steep, bouldery, technical hill I could find and loving it, getting stronger every day. The Goat Tongariro was great preparation 6 weeks out, and I had a great run. Despite a sore left foot, I was feeling fine. Until I wasn’t. The sore left foot didn’t improve, and I had to stop training for a couple of weeks to let it settle. Then just as I was getting back into it, I fell – tripped up on a blooming paving cobble – and injured my shoulder. Two weeks out from the event, I felt like the decrepit old lady I am, trying to convince myself I am not! I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t get comfortable, work was manic – travelling all over, so no time to get to a physio. I had to take heart in the training I had already done, reminding myself that there was nothing more I could do now. My only option was to suck it up, get to the start line, and see what happened.”

Kunanyi is present everywhere in Nipaluna, Hobart. It stands proud and imposing. It is majestic, and I can understand why the Palawa people regard it as a special place. I am still processing how my need to stand on top of mountains is counter to the relationship indigenous peoples have with the landforms that they live among. Is it my Western upbringing and worldview, the need to conquer and dominate? When I am in the mountains, walking or running through the forests and then standing on the summits, I feel connected to them. I draw strength from them by being within them. I feel healed and renewed. I feel awe and wonder. But I need to be on top!

So, back to the event. I had been surprised, coming from Aotearoa where Māori culture and practices are visible in many places, to find little or no evidence that Aboriginal peoples ever existed in Hobart. Indeed, as an old friend whom I managed to catch up with said, as soon as they arrived in Hobart, 20 odd years ago, they felt at home. I had felt that same familiarity, as if I was coming home when I first saw it. Grand, sandstone buildings in the same architectural style as in the north of England, where I grew up. But, no sign of the ancient culture that was there well before the British arrived.

I was heartened by the invitation to a cultural welcoming to the event. The “Welcome to Country‘ is a relatively new thing in contemporary Australia, and I believe that the practice varies from region to region. In Nipaluna, Hobart, the Palawa people have a smoking ceremony. This is a spiritual practice involving the burning of native plants to produce cleansing smoke. This smoke is used to welcome people to the land, acknowledge ancestors, and purify spaces. It then drifts across the land and advises the ancestral spirits that “we are now on Country”. After an elder spoke to welcome us, and he and a younger tribal member chanted and used sticks to create rhythmic sounds, we were invited to walk through the smoke, breathe it in and waft it over our bodies. It was a beautiful, spiritual way to start. I felt calm and ready to go. It helped me focus on what was in front of me, and it gave me the strength to face the challenge.

I had decided to walk with a running friend who was also rather under the weather – she had been sick in the run-up to the event. Given the small field and the forecasted poor weather, we planned to roughly stay together. On the first 12km up the mountain, Sarah went ahead. I stuck to my plan to take it really easy in the first part of the event and reached the summit about 5 – 10 minutes behind her. What a climb it was! Up through the bush to start off with – a few wallabies around but no snakes – steady climbing on wide fire trails. Then we doglegged up and across some huge, dolerite boulder fields – we just had a view through the swirling clouds to the harbour below. At this point, I held a little hope that the forecasted rain would not come.

The first part of runnable trail came as we crossed the road and onto the trail beneath the Organ Pipes. Spectacular! And so good to run instead of fight my way, making sure my feet weren’t going to slide off or between the boulders. It was a glorious 2 km until we started to climb, hands on knees, up the ZigZag track – it has a very apt name. As I climbed into the mist, the temperature dropped, and I stopped to put on my jacket. Into the aid station, passing Sarah on her way out, a quick bite to eat, refill my bottle and then down the road to the longest, most remote section. The clouds cleared again as I descended, and I caught a glimpse of the city and harbour below. It would be fabulous on a sunny day!

I caught up with Sarah just as she was about to enter the Thark Ridge Track. It was very gloomy by now; the rain was starting to fall (my vain hopes of earlier good weather well and truly put to bed!), we could hardly see the path, and certainly not much in the way of views. We decided to stay together. It felt like we were the only ones out there! It was also strangely beautiful and we talked about how it felt vaguely familiar – a bit like some of New Zealand’s trails – the stunted, layered trees that are on the higher slopes, blown sideways by the prevailing winds. But also very different – we were making our way through reddish rocks that became increasingly large as we went. It was cold! We had all our clothes on, and they were all sodden!

It is difficult to remember what order everything came in, as it all merged into a misty, wet mess! The ‘sexy skyline ridge’ was felt rather than seen! We climbed humongous boulders and stood atop one of them with white space and a sense of nothingness on either side of us! Eerie and amazing and scary all at the same time! The exposed, rocky terrain gave way to forest and tall grasses that drenched us even more than the rain as we ran through them. Despite the grim weather, we talked about how much we loved it – perverse, I know. We both rose to the challenge of the varied terrain, enjoying the climbing, the route finding, and the unpredictable nature of the course. This was exactly what we had come for!

Down to the aid station where we ate and drank, sorted out our gear and prepared ourselves for the next big hill. The run description says – “head up a short(ish…) steep climb.” Short-ish is highly debatable! It went on forever, it seemed! Up and up, steeper and steeper, more and more slippery and very muddy. But it did indeed come to an end, and then there was 7km of what might have been very enjoyable flat fire trail. However, it was at this point that we decided we weren’t really enjoying it any more! There is always a slump in a race, and this was it! I think because we weren’t having to struggle against the elements and the terrain any more, we sort of gave in. It was a bit of a grind, so we walked for a few hundred metres, then ran, then walked and kept up a pretty steady pace. By this stage, we were counting the kms and ticking off the waymarkers. We reminded ourselves to take notice of the surroundings and be grateful that we were here in this amazing place.

The aid station at Silver Falls was a big goal – we wanted to arrive in time for hot soup! We did! It was so good! We didn’t linger, though, as the end was in sight! In theory, according to the description and the profile, it was all downhill after the aid station at Silver Falls. Jokes! Well, it was, but the terrain was rough underfoot, and every step when my feet didn’t go down flat was excruciating! My ankles were toast! My knees were toast! My hips were toast!

Sarah was struggling by this point, and she urged me to go ahead. But we had been together for so long now, I wasn’t going to leave her in the last few kms. So on we went together. We could hear the finish line from way off, and it urged us on. The last bit is through paddocks, and suddenly, we were there, coming through the finishing chute. We grabbed each other’s hands and ran through, arms aloft. We had done it! 10 hours and 26 minutes, relieved, happy, proud and humbled to have shared such a tough, beautiful, and culturally rich experience in a place like no other. We came 77th & 78th out of 81 runners. I ws first in my age group – you’ve got to be in it to win it!

Will I go back? I would love to. I want to see it in the sunshine, the ‘sexy skyline ridge’ in all its glory is still waiting for me. Laters Kunanyi!

I came across this sign on a recent tramp on Kapiti Island and it sparked a thought that has been burling around in my head for a while. Some research and kōrero I have had in the last few weeks have added to that wee thought. It’s about language and names, about when it’s appropriate to change names, adapt names, or create names.

“Ko te Waewae Kapiti o Tara Raua ko Rangitane: the full name given by Māori to Kapiti describes the island as the meeting place of the boundaries of Tara and Rangitane. Tara and Rangitane were the son and grandson of Whatonga who, in 1150 AD, divided the country by making a boundary from the southern tip of Kapiti Island straight across to the east coast of the North Island.” Department of Conservation

Names of places tell us of the people and their history in that place. How they lived, what they did, who they were. In Aotearoa New Zealand as in many countries where there have been contests over land or that have been colonised, there are often multiple stories connected with a place. The question is which story do we hear and see when we look at its name?

What does the name New Zealand tell us about this place? Let’s look at the words. ‘New’ as in the opposite of ‘old’, ‘Zealand’ is an alternative spelling of ‘Zeeland’ a place in the Netherlands, Europe. Adventurers, discoverers, colonialists – call them what you will had a habit of naming the places they ‘discovered’ after the places they had come from. So, when Abel Tasman ‘discovered’ this land he chose to call it New Zeeland as that is where he came from. Tasmania which he also discovered was named after him. There was little consideration to finding out if it already had a name.

Hamilton, which is the city I live in was named after Captain Hamilton who was a soldier in the British Forces that were involved in the Land Wars in New Zealand in the 1800s. He was killed at the Battle of Pukehinahina (Gate Pā), in Tauranga Moana which is a place about 100km from Hamilton. He never even set foot in Hamilton! So how did he get to have a place named after him? And what was wrong with the name that the place had when the British forces arrived here after defeating Māori at Rangiriri?

Kirikiriroa Pā was one of the largest Pā sites on the banks of the River Waikato. It was well-fortified, there were well-established papakainga (villages/settlements) and gardens which fed the local inhabitants as well as providing trade with other villages as well as the British troops in Tamaki Makaurau (Auckland). However, when British troops arrived in 1863, it was empty. Word had been sent from Rangiriri that the British were on their way and since all the men and women of fighting age were at Rangiriri, the only people left at Kirikiriroa Pā were women, the elderly and children. They wouldn’t have been able to defend themselves so they fled to their tribal lands at Hukanui and beyond.

What this place and what happened here not only tells the journey and settlement of the area, it also reveals how best to partner with the place and realise the potential of all who live here.

Phoebe Davis

A cultural narrative recognises the historical relationship between the area and its mana whenua. It describes what is unique about the place and the people who live in it. It helps build a common understanding of heritage, traditional and spiritual connections, and values.

The renaming of places was a conscious and deliberate act of colonialism.

Wally Penetito talks about “Starting where our feet are” and asking ourselves “on whose land do we stand?”. It is important that people have the opportunity to tell their own stories and we have a responsibility to listen to them and acknowledge them, There is often a tension between anger and hope – one side remembers the suffering, the other side doesn’t know the real stories, or they are not interested or ambivalent which makes dialogue difficult. This means that there is an unsettled state of the relationships between Māori and Pākehā which is partly due to the stories that are not known or ignored or avoided by both Māori and Pākehā as a result of colonisation. Often there is a separation from our locality because most of us don’t know about where we are from. This is compounded for many whānau who are displaced in temporary housing sometimes in a different location from where they originally come. For those of us who are privileged enough to know where we come from we have a responsibility to understand the part we play in maintaining or challenging the status quo. With knowledge comes power – what will we do with the knowledge we gain or already have to challenge ourselves and others to think differently?

“Place-names are an important aspect of culture and identity as they provide a location where history, events, landscapes, relationships and people are remembered, celebrated and reinforced.”

https://www.qualityplanning.org.nz/sites/default/files/Decolonising%20the%20Land.pdf

The virtue of street names as a means of preserving history in modern society is underestimated in the planning process. Whether the name encapsulates a generally known or unfamiliar past, all who use them are governed by the power of its name. This power lies in its inherent ability to create a version of its own history, an authenticated element of reality as it is constantly experienced, perceived and interpreted on a daily basis.

The document from which the quote above is taken discusses the ways that places in Aotearoa were named. The explorers didn’t think to ask if there was already a name; they assumed there wasn’t or were so arrogant they dismissed the importance of those names. Of course, those new names also tell a story, but they only tell the story from the point when that name was given. Previous history is ignored. Efforts are being made across Aotearoa to reclaim original Māori names, in many cases they are being given ‘dual toponyms’, that is, the Māori name is used alongside the English name. There is debate still happening about Kirikiriroa, Hamilton and indeed Aotearoa, New Zealand. There are some who believe using both names is too much of a mouthful and those who don’t like the Māori name will continue to use the British name and vice versa. There is a school of thought that says we should bite the bullet and use only the Māori names. However, if we are to acknowledge that history is, in fact, many stories then, should names reflect all those stories? Kirikiriroa, as a name for what is now Hamilton, is also contested. Kirikiriroa Pā was only one, albeit the biggest, of many papakainga along the river Waikato. Present-day Hamilton encompasses all of those, so using Kirikiriroa for Hamilton ignores or doesn’t take into account the existence and the stories of all the other hapū and iwi.

So, let’s go back to the original ‘place name’ that prompted my thinking. “Te Ara o Trig” is a literal translation of “Trig Track” because there is no Māori word for trig – which in fact is a shortened word for a ‘trigonometrical point‘. The linguist in me was affronted – if there is no word for trigonometrical point in Māori, do we just use the English or do we attempt to describe what a trig is. “Te Ara o Trig” is effectively meaningless – it has no sense in te reo Māori, so it doesn’t convey meaning, which is what language is all about. So what do we know about ‘trigs’? They mark significant geographical points and create a triangulated network so that positions of key places can be located. They are often placed at high points so that they can be easily seen.

So, how did iwi and hapū locate themselves in relation to others, move around, know where they were, and communicate with others? They had boundaries, they moved across the whenua, and some iwi spent summer months in one place and winter months in another. What were the triangulation points that they used? They would have used mountain tops, rivers, springs, and geographical features that stood out. So given that the trig on Kapiti Island is on top of a hill, it’s likely that the hill had a name. Surely a better name for the “Trig Track” would be the name of the hill, Tuteremoana. So, Te Ara o Tuteremoana would tell us that this is the path to the summit of Tuteremoana. You will see from the photo that Tuteremoana is indeed mentioned on the sign with the word ‘summit’ underneath it. Given that the translation of Te Ara o Trig (Trig Track) was underneath it, if I followed the logic of the sign, I might think that Tuteremoana was simply the Māori word for ‘summit’ and didn’t carry a whole whakapapa and history attached to it. So, what is the story of Tuteremoana?

Tuteremoana

Tara, Whātonga’s son, was the great-great-grandson of Kupe, the Polynesian explorer. On his voyages, Kupe had himself visited the Wellington Harbour region, leaving his name at various sites.

Tara had a son called Whakanui or Wakanui, who had a son called Tūria. Tūria married Hinematua, and they had a son called Te Ao Haeretahi, who married Rakaimāori. They in turn, had a son called Tūteremoana who became the paramount chief of Ngāi Tara. His name has been given to rocks on a beach just north of the Whanganui River, to the highest point of Kāpiti Island, and to a fishing rock just south of Barrett’s Reef in Wellington Harbour.

It’s not just a case of translating English names into Māori or vice versa, it’s about paying respect to the stories of the people who have shaped this land. Acknowledging, recognising, and understanding that they carry meaning, they tell of the lives of people and their relationship to the land.

Labour, Green & Te Pāti Māori Representatives

This was a panel of the members of the opposition parties. Each had a turn to speak and although it wasn’t a conversation, some speakers referenced what others had said. It was a shame as I would have liked to have heard some questions that each person could have answered. However, it was a large panel, so there wasn’t a lot of time. 

Willie Jackson kicked off the kōrero seemingly simply because he was the ‘older statesman’. Te Pāti Māori had been delayed getting there so by default, they ended up being last to speak.

Willie talked about the importance of the opposition parties working together to get the coalition government out as soon as possible. He made a plea for developing strategies, listening and talking to each other. He acknowledged the huge gains Te Pāti Māori had made but also pointed out that Māori seemed to have voted strategically in the 2023 election. They voted forTe Pāti Māori candidates in the Māori wards but they voted for Labour as the party vote. He asked how the opposition parties could make the most of their many similarities and coordinate an effective opposition? 

Carmel Sepuloni was next. She said they had considered just having the Maori caucus on the panel but then decided that it’s not just about Māori – all the members of Labour Party are in it together, it’s a joint effort, Tangata Tiriti and Tangata Māori working together. 

Her kōrero was about equity and how it’s worrying that Maori and Pacifica kids are still more likely to be negatively treated by the justice system. She told the story of her son who came home one day and told her that he had learnt something – did she know that if you ask a policeman for their name and number, they have to give it to you?  Māori and Pasifika kids need this sort of knowledge to empower them as they are more likely to be stopped by the police. Pākehā kids don’t need to learn that sort of stuff and this is where equity comes in. 

I wondered about the kaiako I work with and how many are shocked when we discuss these sorts of inequities. They have often never even thought about the ‘everyday racism’ that happens as it just doesn’t affect them.  We all need to know about bias and prejudice and understand where it comes from so that we can do something in our own lives to address those inequities. The Aotearoa NZ Histories curriculum has started to provide an understanding of how events and legislation have contributed to the current socio-economic inequities. Kaiako and tamariki are finally learning the diverse histories of their own country.  However, the Coalition Government is talking about ‘rebalancing’ the curriculum just when a range of stories are being shared. They are appealing to their voter base. This is the first time in New Zealand’s history that another side of history is actually being told. It’s challenging to Pākehā – and when their privilege is threatened they feel like they are being victimised, they feel like something is being taken away.  We need platforms to provide equity such as the Maori Health Authority – it’s not a privilege or racial favouritism, it’s providing a leg up for those who are so far below. 

Arena Williams talked about our rangatahi and how there is a shift in focus. They are interested in Te Tiriti o Waitangi, they can see a bigger picture than the government. They understand that Te Tiriti is a promise to us to care for our land, our people and all that they hold as taonga – our language, culture, whakapapa. Te Tiriti o Waitangi is not a threat to te ao Māori, it’s a threat to ACT’s way of life and the privilege that they hold.  She added that there is solidarity between the working class people and Maori, not division. 

Jean Willow-Prime continued the theme of Te Tiriti o Waitangi but she asked ‘He aha te āpititanga o te whawhai mō Te Tiriti o Waitangi?’  What will we bring as an addition to the fight for Te Tiriti o Waitangi. When we go home after the show of solidarity here at Waitangi, what will we do to continue to wananga about what we have listened to here and how will we devise a plan?  She urged people to continue to listen to the kōrero in Question Time in Pariament as that is where the government is held to account. I would add that we also need to listen to the news, and be critical of how it is presented, where it is presented, what is presented and which people have a voice. Social Media is also a crucial place to be mindful of what we are fed by the algorithms. How aware are we of the impact of what we click on has on our timelines? How do we critically question and hold true to our own values and beliefs in the face of so much negativity? 

Her message, echoed by others, was that we must sustain this opposition –  don’t make it a one-week wonder, continue and keep going.

Teano Tuiono reminded us of how the Green Party now have 6 Māori MPs in Parliament and therefore have people who represent Tangata Tiriti, Tangata Whenua and Tangata Moana. But he also picked up the thread of a sense that a new generation is bringing a change of approach. He acknowledged the patience, manaakitanga and the aroha of our people at the powhiri for the Government. But, he said 

‘We are sometimes too nice – we have been trampled on for years and then they waffle on on the paepae and expect to be accorded respect!!’ 

He was referring to the reception that several of the Coalition partners were given when they spoke at the pōwhiri and the response from the kuia who asked for people to remember the tikanga of welcoming manuhiri and to allow them to be heard.  I asked my colleagues later on about this and one of them said that rangatahi are less accepting of the way that manuhiri present themselves on the marae than the previous generation. Our kuia uphold and maintain the manaakitanga, the tikanga, but our rangatahi are saying ‘enough is enough’. We’ve offered manaaki all these years and we are still being trampled on – our mana is not intact. We will shout them down and call them out if they come here and show disrespect. 

Efeso Collins also acknowledged the strength of the connection between Tangata Moana and Tangata Māori and affirmed that they were committed to standing alongside as they have an understanding of some of the same issues. Te Māta Waka – the Māori Pacific caucus – need to ask what sort of leadership we need to make progress. He stressed the importance of holding strong to our values and how that is what will lead to unity, understanding and reconciliation. He also talked about the power in silence and the ability to listen, that listening informs what we have to say. There is a difference in cultural nuance here. Too often we listen to speak rather than listen to hear, to reflect, to learn. In Parliament and in western society generally there is a tendency to want to have the last word, but words have meaning and often those ‘last words’ do more to sow division than to seek understanding. 

He reflected that Waitangi is a beautiful celebration of the treaty which held so much promise but also acknowledged that Te Tiriti o Waitangi has always been a challenging space, for Māori and non-Māori.  It’s even more challenging now because it’s been thrown into the arena by David Seymour. The policy position on Te Tiriti o Waitangi of the people alongside Luxon is creating anxiety and anger.  

However, there is a silver lining which may or may not have been intended by Seymour as he threw Te Tiriti into the ring.  It is one that many kaikōrero remarked on over the few days I was at Waitangi, that the discussions about Te Tiriti have provided a focal point for Tangata Tiriti and Tangata Whenua to connect and galvanise. Just look at how many people responded to the activation call from Te Pāti Māori in December, how many came to the Hui -A-Motu organised by Kingi Tuuheitia in January, and just how many people have flocked to Waitangi this year. Part of me wonders, though, the danger that not everyone understands Te Tiriti and that that ignorance is a vacuum that can be filled by those who seek to undermine and disrupt. But maybe the hope does lie in our rangatahi who possibly have a greater understanding, they understand tino rangatiratanga, self-determination and sovereignty – they have more understanding, empathy and knowledge, because of more deliberate teaching in schools now.  Added to that, because of the mahi of those who have gone before such as Ngāti Tamatoa, there has been an increasing embrace of culture and language over the last 40 years.  The challenge is how we give voice to our rangatahi, how do we elevate their kōrero and not let it be drowned out by the ‘talk back’ generation? 

Marama Davidson continued the kōrero about the strong relationship that goes right the way back between tangata Moana and Tangata Maori.  It precedes Te Tiriti o Waitangi by a long way. It’s a very unique relationship, indeed 20% of Pacifica are Maori.

But her kōrero also picked up on the response to the kōrero on the paepae. She started with telling us that one of the first targets of colonisation was to diminish the status and mana of wāhine because they hold a powerful base. She told us about her grandmother taking one beating at a time when she spoke te reo Māori, until eventually, over three generations, her family lost their language. I reflected then about how our language is a window on the world, it is our identity, it makes us who we are and how we interact with each other. This morning I read an article Learning te reo as an adult: Tips for success | E-Tangata. In it, Matiu Ratima was asked why his father didn’t teach him te reo Māori even though he was a fluent speaker. It is a question that many Pākehā ask as if Māori just gave up their language. Matiu replied that his father, like many others, believed at the time that “children should learn English in this Pākehā world. That was mistaken, but such was the belief in those days. Some people still believe that!” When we lose our language we lose control of our own narrative and when outsiders tell our stories they undermine our skills and our mana. 

Marama acknowledged Ngā Puhi wāhine who stood up against the kōrero that was attacking Māori at the pōwhiri.  She talked about the tikanga on the marae and listening to her nannies calling people out for being boring or going on too long or speaking poorly or saying rubbish.  She said that she had learned that waiata is an acceptable and respectful tikanga for shutting people down.  In a kōrero with my colleagues later, I asked about this and their response was that it is, but that it is not usually manuhiri who are shut down by mana whenua – you shut down your own but not the other side. Manuhiri should be given manaaki, they should be allowed to speak. This echoes the words of Teano Tuiono and also raises the question about whether people have just had enough now? We have welcomed and shown kindness for so long and nothing has changed. Is the tide turning and are our rangatahi going to create their own tikanga for the future?

As I watched the pōwhiri I had questions about what happened. When David Seymour put up Nicole McKee to speak for the ACT party, there were murmurings all around me. Most people had no idea who she was! People wondered why he didn’t speak as leader of ACT.  Was putting her up to speak a deliberate ploy? Was he making a statement about the role of women in a pōwhiri, questioning or challenging the tikanga? Did he think that she had a safer space than he did to get across his message? Was it a ploy so that he didn’t get shouted down as he knew he would? Also if she did get shouted down, he had a ready made argument about the role of women and how liberal thinking he was and how rude and disrespectful tangata whenua were. But then later, he did stand and speak (and the crowd did sing to drown him out) so I am unsure what his purpose was. It looked to me like he threw her under the bus. 

As Marama closed her kōrero she came back to The Green party core beliefs of sustainability and the environment and left us with a simple message;

“We can only have Mana Motuhake if the land is sustained and we all thrive.”

Steve Abel started by responding to Willie Jackson’s call to all work together as opposition parties by agreeing.  He also threw out a wero that the Labour Party stand in their traditional values as a Labour Party. “Get rid of neoliberalism and be true to the Labour Party values.” A reactionary government allows us to be more ambitious, go on the attack, and not retreat into defence mode.

He then moved on to the idea of Tino Rangatiratanga and questioned that when Seymour says he wants Tino Rangatiratanga for everyone he doesn’t understand it at all. Steve believes that James Busby understood as the Green Party did that Tino Rangatiratanga is for Māori, not for Tangata Tiriti. Busby intended through his use of the word ‘rangatiratanga’ that Māori would have independence and self-determination. He then went on to suggest that David Seymour is proposing to do exactly what Henry Sewell proposed in 1864 was the purpose of the Land Wars – to impose a monolithic British sovereignty. That stance denies Tino Rangatiratanga of Māori. He reminded us that our only legitimacy as Tangata Tiriti is through Te Tiriti o Waitangi.

Hūhana Lyndon brought us back to a kōrero I heard on Sunday. ‘Land Loss’. She said that the way that the government talks about land loss is like it’s something that happened 100 years ago but that’s not true. It has happened in her lifetime and her parents’ lifetime. It has been happening ever since 1840. In Te Tai Tokerau when they stood up to defend the land her grandparents and parents were told they were too old, or they were not academic enough, or not worthy. They were dismissed, their mana was trampled on. 

She echoed Whina Cooper as she said, ‘Hoki whenua mai! Enough is enough!’

Hūhana also picked up on kōrero about how Te Tiriti o Waitangi gives mana to He Whakaputanga which is its tuakana. Te Tiriti o Waitangi (the Māori version) is a legally binding document. He Whakaputanga is referenced in it and it affirms the sovereignty of Māori as laid out in He Whakaputanga, Te Tiriti o Waitangi doesn’t replace He Whakaputanga and ACT doesn’t get to rewrite it – it’s an agreement for working together, for partnership, for kotahitanga but it doesn’t cede sovereignty. 

Hūhana continued with the theme of Tino Rangatiratanga specifically in relation to Health, and her distress and anger that policies like Smoke Free have been repealed by the Coalition Government.  It has been widely reported that Māori will be most affected by the repeal of The Coalition Government’s Smoke-free Amendment.  “It will cost thousands of lives and have the greatest effect on Māori – who have the highest rates of smoking (19 per cent)” https://www.healthcoalition.org.nz/repeal-of-smoke-free-laws-a-massive-set-back-for-health/

Hūhana was impassioned in her kōrero, “There is blood on Shane Reti’s hands when Māori die because of the doors open policy on tobacco. It’s a crying shame that our own people are doing this to us.” Her call was for us to lean towards activation not protest, we have to take action on the issues and solve them ourselves.  “Tino rangatiratanga has been asleep but it is awakening.” Our best strategy is to believe in our Tino Rangatiratanga

“Speak power to our truth

Speak truth to our power”

Her final words asked us if we believe in Tino Rangatiratanga but don’t feel we enact it, what’s the gap and how do we close it? Ask ourselves what we need to do. 

Debbie Ngārewa-Packer

As you might expect, Debbie came out all guns blazing! She is a ferociously passionate wahine and she started by asking if any government in the history of Aoteraoa hasn’t broken the promises of Te Tiriti o Waitangi. Since the mid 20th century, there have been gains but in reality Māori have only been offered crumbs. “Crumbs have kept us in survival mode,” said Debbie. I understand this to mean that, yes, there has been some progress; a resurgence of the language, more understanding from some Tangata Tiriti about te ao Māori, mahi is being done across organisations to understand what honouring Te Tiriti means, Aotearoa New Zealand History has been introduced to schools, Te Whatu Ora has been created to address the inequities in Māori health. But these are still tenuous, their existence is under threat from the current coalition government who perceive it to be attacking the status quo – their status quo as power brokers, with huge privilege. 

Debbie urges Māori to forget the crumbs, it is time – kua tai mai te wā – to think big. We need our own Parliament. We’ve been in opposition since 1840 – we should be doing more, listening more, and bringing our kōrero to life, bringing Te Tiriti o Waitangi to life. 

It doesn’t matter what party we’re in. As Māori, it’s about our beliefs and values and bringing expertise together.

What would a Māori Parliament look like? Can we achieve it? Whatever it looks like – it can’t look like the current western style parliament – it has to be built around our belief systems, our tikanga and our culture.

We need to mobilise – we have seen what our rangatahi can do but we can do more. The % of Māori who were registered and voted was less than Non-Māori especially at the older end of the age ranges. I couldn’t quickly find how many Māori had not registered as a comparison with Non-Māori but anecdotally, I know that older, white people tend to register to vote and they tend to go out and vote. Māori of the same age are less likely to. They have long felt that the system offers them nothing, they are disenfranchised, they see no point in voting. I recently saw a Facebook post in which this image was posted;

One response was, “Should have just voted in the last election and we wouldn’t have this problem”

The conversation then went like this

 “It’s rigged, don’t you see that democracy doesn’t exist.”

“Lmao yeah nah … and people who believe that are the problem”

“Why vote? You get the same endless, don’t listen to the people tiko, these twits have sold out the country to the highest bidder, nearly 91 years of red blue governance has destroyed our country and silly nzlanders keep voting them in, so what’s the point?”

Sadly, she is not alone in this thinking. I wonder if she was swayed by a response from someone else who said, “Democracy does exist if you make sure your vote counts. Freedom is mainly lost through poverty and inaction. You must vote for the people who don’t work for the super-rich and will speak out and work for equity. Not voting and losing faith in the system is exactly what they want and how they get into power. 30% of eligible voters didn’t bother to vote at the last election.”  

Our rangatahi are starting to see that as long as we have a colonial, adversarial system, we have to use it and play the game. We can’t change it unless we are in it, so we need everyone to register and to vote. 

Reti! Pōti! 

Hana-Rawhiti Maipi-Clarke may have been the last speaker but she was on fire! A passionate young wahine who wasn’t afraid to say it like it is and to challenge. I have heard people criticise her for her youth, naivety, and lack of life experience, which are probably true. But you cannot fault her passion and her belief and none of those other things diminish her message and the truth that she tells. I also noticed the manaaki that Debbie wrapped around her as she spoke. I hope that continues. I see no reason why it wouldn’t, but we have seen what has happened to other young, Māori wāhine in public life and how the media and other MPs have targeted them. Outwardly she appears strong – one of the so-called ‘Kohanga Generation’ – Māori who have grown up immersed in te reo and tikanga – strong in her reo, in tikanga, in her identity as Māori. She will probably also encounter resistance from her elders, in fact, she already has with politicians like Winston Peters questioning her right to speak. 

But to her kōrero…. 

“Ko te take, ko te kōrero” 

Talk is where it’s at.  We talk too much ‘at’ our people, we need to give them a voice. She apologises that her emotions are very raw after the pōwhiri this morning. She reflects that our tinana, our wairua is affected negatively. She is angry, so angry, you can hear it in her voice and I can see Debbie standing close to calm her. I reflect that there is power in emotion, but it can also alienate and lead to unfair criticism that she is too young or too unstable to cope with parliamentary life. She will continue to learn to harness that emotion and use it powerfully especially if wrapped in a korowai of manaakitanga by her Te Pāti Māori whanau and her wider whanaunga. 

She is angry that two males have spoken this morning on the paepae today. They came talking about ‘hush money’ to our people. 

“Kupu have mana. You can’t belittle our language, our mana, our health and then try to buy us off.”

She talks of emancipating ourselves from money and I have a wry smile. From my euro-centric world-view and reflecting on my own journey, I know that the idea of being free from the trappings of wealth may be naive and an ideological ideal. The realities hit us very soon once we have to live in the real world! However, I think I understand what she is getting at. There is a youthful idealism there but there is also the understanding that I can’t know or feel in my being as a Pākehā. It is money that was the driving force behind colonisation. It is money or the quest for it and the power that came with it that undermined and destroyed the Māori way of life, that stripped them of their land, their language, their tikanga and their ability to fend for themselves, to exercise tino rangatiratanga. For Hana, being emancipated from money, is more than it was when I was her age. 

She is angry that someone from Hobson’s Pledge (referring to Nicola McKee ACT party) dare stand under the mahau and speak, possibly angry that she was allowed to by her own people. She is angry that the government had one chance to listen today but what did they do? They talked. They repeated their electioneering. They didn’t read the room. They weren’t respectful of the tikanga of this place. 

She is ready and she is urging those around her to also be ready.

“Get the soil ready! E whakarite ana tātou – Let’s ready ourselves.”

I had concentrated so much at this point that my concentration faltered and I only really got soundbites from the next few kōrero. However, as I have reread my notes and tried to make sense of them, there are a few connections or trends that I can see, so maybe I’ll try to pull those together. 

Reina Tuai Penney

When we are attacked we go back to our whakapapa and our stories. We go back and reclaim our spaces, our names and our tupuna stories.

Reina is tuakana to Rose – her elder sister. She is a lawyer and was also a coordinator of the hīkoi from Hokianga.

She described how as they walked from Moutukaraka, as they went through different places each one had a story. Land that was still in Māori hands, land that had been taken by the Crown land and also land that is in private hands.  Pā sites where Māori had defended their mana over centuries, urupā where their tupuna lie, wāhi tapu, and papakainga.

Kua tai te ihiihi!

They felt the spiritual power, the essential force growing as they listened to the stories and connected as a collective and as the hīkoi grew in numbers.

They were welcomed into Omakura and the kaumatua told the story of the past, how the land was taken and the fight that the hapū put up to resist. It was a story of passive resistance as so many of the kōrero around the motu. When the Crown came to take the land people laid down on the ground to protect the wāhi tapu from being taken. 

We have different ways of resisting now and as a lawyer, she talked of making the system and systems work for the good of Māori. Some good government structures are worth using to get what we need – we need sometimes to play the game and fight from within.

She talked about the ‘deceit of consultation’. How things like ‘cultural impact assessments’ and surveys being used by officials to say that they had consulted with hapū and iwi. I wondered then about the lip service that some schools and other organisations pay to ‘consulting’ instead of talking to people and then listening to what they have to say instead of ticking the ‘consultation’ box.

Hoki mai ki te kainga  

At the end of the day, though, we have to take back control. We have to make it happen ourselves. Go back to our kainga (home) – there is a role for everyone. Funnily enough, I was listening to Shane Jones talking to Mahinarangi Forbes on Mata this morning and he made the point that we are in 2024 with a rapidly growing population of immigrants which could further threaten the place of Māori. He is astounded that Māori leaders believe that the answer lies in 1835 with He Whakaputanga or 1840 with Te Tiriti o Waitangi. He said that Māori need to move on from the victimhood mentality and adopt the adaptability and innovation of their ancestors. We can’t keep blaming colonisation, relying on the past as an excuse for our current situation. For him, Tino Rangatiratanga and Mana Motuhake is about identifying the current challenges and coming up with solutions.

He aha o koutou whakaaro? What do you think?

Nyze Manual

Nyze Manuel is a trustee of Karangahape Marae, she is also kaiwhakahaere of Taitokerau Border Control and a business owner employing local whānau. Her kōrero was about resilience. She whakapapas to the people who wrote He Whakaputanga. She talked about how Māori are always in a reactive space but we need to move into a proactive space to build resilience into our collective approaches rather than relying on our ability to draw on our innate personal resilience.  In a way that echoes what Shane Jones was saying – draw on the innate characteristics of tupuna, and be proactive. She talked about different sorts of resilience which I will try to summarise.

Food Resilience

The whenua will look after us if we look after it. 

Te Taiao is at the heart of food and feeding ourselves. Te Taiao is our pātaka kai (food cupboard). We need to be aware of the tohu (signs) that tell us how the land is doing, how healthy it is. Whether it is the whenua – Māra Kai, or the moana – Mahinga Kai, our food stocks are diminishing either because Te Taiao is no longer nourished or because it has been overused or because it has been taken for other uses such as building.

We can have food sovereignty if we go back to what our ancestors did and use the land and the sea well. We have to look at how we can better protect our kai which means looking at how better to protect Te Taiao. In the past ‘rāhui’ were used to protect the kai. This was a gift from the tupuna to protect the supplies. We should exercise those tools now. Rāhui provide the time to replenish stocks – it’s gone in a moment if we overfish or plant the wrong things.

Our tupuna watched and listened to observe the tohu that indicated when to plant, when to harvest, when some things would be plentiful and others may not be. The Maramataka was important. Nyze talked of tupuna observing the kōura walking from one area to another and that whilst they were on that hīkoi, they shouldn’t be fished as they were more vulnerable. 

Climate resilience 

Nyze knows first-hand what climate change looks like and how it impacts our people. One of her roles is to help coordinate kaimahi and first responders from hapū all over Ngāpuhi in an emergency, whether a virus or a national disaster. She talked about how Māori knew not to build their whare in certain places as they had observed the impacts of high tides, storms etc. They warned contractors about building in those places but still, they went ahead and they were some of the houses damaged in the cyclones. I notice when I drive through the Waikato from Kirikirirroa to Hauraki after the rain how much of the land is under water. The road is elevated and it is like driving along a causeway with water on either side as far as the eye can see. Settlers in the 19th century thought all they needed to do was clear the swamps and plant grass and they would have rich pastures. There was a reason that Māori hadn’t cleared it already! They gathered kai from it – fish and kōura, wātakirihi and other plants, and waterfowl and they knew through observation how the tides worked and the annual tohu for gathering that kai.

Nyze described a kaumātua who lived at Matauri Bay. Despite waves coming over his house during the cyclone he didn’t want to leave. Many of the old folk don’t want to. This is a response to so much of their land having already been taken, they don’t want to give up what they have left. But how do we protect our kuia and kaumatua? How do we build climate resilience into our planning?  These people are very resilient but that doesn’t make them safe! How do we enable them to stay where they want to live but protect them when there is a problem? 

Not surprisingly given this panel of wāhine, she says it’s mainly the women who are strategising and coming up with practical solutions.  Those solutions don’t have to be complex, but they do need to be practical and doable. We need to know who to call, what to have ready, know how to help, know who to help. A magnet on a fridge with key numbers on – for those who are isolated, who they need to call to get help, and for those who are helping a list of who will need help when disaster strikes. Survival packs need to be distributed to each home. 

Political Resilience

Finally a call to everyone. We have to vote! To take back what is ours we need to build the leaders of tomorrow, we need to mobilise but it has to be a multi-pronged approach and it has to be together – Kotahitanga!

Tū mai, whawhai atu tonu. Ake, ake, ake! 

Auriole Ruka – Wahine Narratives

Auriole is Pou Manawhakahaere – General Manager Governance and Engagement for Northland regional Council. She started quietly, nervously, saying that she had wondered what she was going to say and then worrying about what right she had to stand up and kōrero. She said she had a severe case of ‘Imposter Syndrome‘.

I wonder, does ‘Imposter Syndrome’ come from a Pākehā worldview – is it another example of how wāhine Māori have been colonised? For Pākehā women does it stem from a belief that we shouldn’t be where we are because essentially it’s a ‘man’s world’? We are the products of a patriarchal society and that patriarchy was then imposed on Māori through colonisation. Wāhine Māori played a pivotal role in Māori society before colonisation; Ani Mikaere discusses this at length in her e-Tangata article.

“Both men and women were essential parts in the collective whole. Both formed part of the whakapapa that linked Māori people back to the beginning of the world, and women in particular played a key role in linking the past with the present and the future.”

Māori Women: Caught in the Contradictions of a Colonised Reality | E-Tangata 

As she spoke, Auriole gained momentum and confidence. “We look to our mokopuna for strength – I know I can do what I need to do when I have to do it.” I thought that was an interesting idea. As well as gaining inspiration from our ancestors, we gain strength and resilience as we consider our mokopuna and the world that we are safeguarding (or not) for them. I don’t (yet) have mokopuna but I do have two sons. However, as I was talking to Ellie on Tuesday we talked about whakapapa and whanau. She came to Aotearoa as an 8-year-old with her family, her sister was 3. We brought our two boys over when they were 12 and 8 respectively. I’ve often wondered since I have learned more about the importance of whakapapa and knowing who you come from to develop a sense of identity, what the impact of a move across the world has had on our boys and their sense of identity. I asked Ellie how she felt, what connection she had to her family back in the UK and how that framed her thinking. I won’t go into details but one of the things she shared was that in her mahi here in Aotearoa when she worked in Corrections for a while supporting rangatahi who are incarcerated to re-connect to their iwi, hapu, tikanga etc (I know, she is well aware of the irony of a young, very white Pākehā wahine working in this field but she worked alongside and took guidance from a Māori colleague). This Māori colleague has several children though he is only in his early 20s and one day they talked about whakapapa. He talked about the importance not just of looking back to his ancestors but looking forward to his mokopuna and how that gave him a sense of meaning to how he lived his life. Ka mua, ka muri. We look backwards to inform our future but also look forward to make sense of our present, plan for the future and draw strength from those yet unborn.

Ka tū au, ka rire

So as Auriole thinks of her mokopuna she rallies and becomes even more confident. We will stand and fight for our tamariki, our mokopuna, so we need to shake off the imposter syndrome. Shake off the ‘pūngāwerewere’ off my back referencing the spiders that Dame Naida Glavish said were coming to Waitangi.  Our future, the future of our whanau is what motivates us and gives us strength.

Honouring Te Tiriti o Waitangi starts with whanau and then looks to those who are struggling. We need to put our own life jackets on before helping others. You can’t help others if you are not well and strong yourself.  So, what was her plan? How did her iwi support themselves and others?

They set up a Trust and now they are thriving. They strategised, made plans, and came up with solutions. The simplest things make the most money.

But we also need to accept the challenge that Tariana Turia laid down to promote the importance of the 1867 Māori Representation Act.

“We need more opportunities as a nation to examine racism, to understand our diverse cultural perspectives, to engage in cross-cultural conversations.”

https://www.nzherald.co.nz/kahu/dame-tariana-turia-we-need-a-better-way-of-dealing-with-racial-issues/BXULTC75UJQDYM56GKSXBDGTH4/

So, what does that look like? It’s about getting all our people onto the Māori role, then getting out to vote. We have to mobilise our rangatahi to disrupt the government. Likewise for Pākehā – it is the older generations who vote and they are typically, although not all, right-wing voters.

It’s hard, she says, to sit and listen quietly when dickheads like David Seymour get to stand and speak in our space. 

“I am no longer an imposter, I stand, I fight, I serve.”

Dallas King

“Kia u ki o tatau korero tuku iho – mahia!”

Dallas is a lawyer from Hokianga and her kōrero echoed that of previous speakers – when we are under stress, or attack or are unwell, we need to go back to our ancestral stories, go back to the land of our tupuna, be informed by the taiao, instead of becoming overwhelmed and anxious – ka hoki koe ki tō whenua – go back to your land. 

“The repercussions of what the government is doing are huge.” The challenges we face at the moment are huge. The attack on Te Tiriti o Waitangi, our reo and our way of life by this government is what has mobilised tangata whenua as well as many tangata tiriti allies, to protest, to be here at Waitangi. “The repercussions of what the government is doing are huge.” Events such as in Gaza and other places around the world that threaten indigenous peoples are also growing. There is not just physical war but the silent and insidious war of misinformation – the leaflets that are being sent out inside local papers written by despots are rife.

“It is a symphony of disruption and distraction that is targetted and intentional.”

Agencies in Te Whanganui a-Tara make decisions on our behalf without knowing the stories and the context of our rohe. For example, NIWA has a privilege and power that allows them to make decisions about our taiao that are not relevant to our rohe. We need to be proactive in these spaces, and get ourselves in amongst them so that we have a voice and can influence by bringing a te ao Māori perspective. So, as well as our kōrero tuku iho we also need to look to our maramataka for accurate predictions about our taiao. Mātauranga Māori has a huge part to play alongside Western science in supporting decision-making that will improve outcomes for our people.  

“Pai te rerekētanga”

We also need to accept and embrace differences, different perspectives, and different knowledge. We shouldn’t be afraid to allow everyone in the room so we can wananga and make the right decisions. 

Mariameno Kapa-Kīngi – MP for Te Tai Tokerau

“You can’t just sing ‘Maranga mai’ and then moe!”

Mariameno talked about the ‘mahi before the mahi’ – that you don’t achieve things without a lot of hard work. When a forum tent like this was first suggested, it was their own iwi who refused it, but eventually, it happened and it has become an important fixture of Waitangi. A space for kōrero, for sharing of whakaaro, for ‘ordinary’ people to have a voice.

Mariameno shared that her mokopuna had been born during the night and reflected on that. Birth is the time when women hold the balance of life.  We provide a portal; ‘he tapu anō tērā’. At the moment of birth a woman holds her own heartbeat and that of another life within her – every time it is a miracle. Between your breasts and between your legs are powerful places. Then the cord is cut and whilst those lives are now separate they are inextricably bound together.  I love this whakaaro, it is raw and it is a truth. It speaks to the status of wāhine in te ao Māori as life-givers, nurturers, and storytellers keeping the kōrero tuku iho alive, relevant and safe to be retold for future generations.

Of her electorate win and the success of Te Pāti Māori, she said;

“Giving our whānau something to vote for that looks, sounds and feels like them. We are taking our place… our motuhake place.”

https://tehiku.nz/te-hiku-radio/tautinei/41624/mariameno-kapa-kingi-our-new-te-taitokerau-

Being MP for Te Tai Tokerau and the first Māori woman to be so is a responsibility and a privilege. But, she reflects, it is not hers alone.

It was a journey to get to this place and many people were on that journey and contributed. Mariameno carried a tokotoko which is styled on a Japanese Bokken – a Japanese wooden sword used for training in kenjutsu, that was made for her.  It took time to make and a lot of work. Like her tokotoko, there was a lot of work done to get to the point in her journey.

She acknowledged that we’re all in different places at different times. Our journeys may be the same but they are also different. But reaching and achieving goals is done through hard work and working as a collective.

“Ko tēnei te wā.”

“There is blatant racism and prejudice against Māori in the Health System.” 

Dr Rose Harris, a doctor based in Hokianga was prompted to be a doctor after witnessing the treatment of her mother as she was diagnosed and then treated for cancer. She agrees with Lady Tureiti Moxon that the disestablishment of the Māori Health Board which has only just started to show what it can do for Māori will lead to greater inequities for Māori and poorer outcomes. It is a move that goes against Te Tiriti o Waitangi. 

“Abolishing the authority would be inconsistent with the Treaty principles of tino rangatiratanga, partnership and equity, the claim said.” 

Waitangi Tribunal bid made in attempt to stop abolition of Te Aka Whai Ora, the Māori Health Authority | RNZ News

However, she believes that it is for the very reason that it will lead to better outcomes for Māori, because it works for them that the government wants to dismantle it. As someone working in a rural setting she cannot see how a rural approach can work.

“We need to do more to whakamana our wāhine Māori.” 

Rose believes firmly that women’s health is an area that is hugely underfunded and misunderstood. We need to be confident and not whakamā about talking about our bodies, understanding them so that wāhine can have mana motuhake over their bodies and healthcare. I reflected at this point that this is another impact of colonisation and the thinking of the colonisers especially the missionaries. In te ao Māori a girl’s first menstruation (waiwhero) was seen as a cause for celebration not shame;

“When waiwhero first arrived, there would be the giving of gifts, which would be an awesome tikanga to continue today. Moko kauae would be given, ceremonial cutting of hair, piercing of ears. She would be introduced to new arts, learn karakia and waiata. There would be a hākari (feast), the community would get together to share kai. And there would be a ceremonial bleeding onto the whenua as a gift to Papatūānuku. This practice was about acknowledging the connection between people, land and ancestors. Our tūpuna believed our waiwhero, our menstrual blood, carried our ancestors. Bleeding straight onto the land is our gift to the mother, to Papatūānuku. I know some wāhine that still do that today.”

Decolonise your body! The fascinating history of Māori and periods | The Spinoff

From a Victorian, colonists’ perspective, menstruation was seen as an unclean and negative time. Something not to be spoken about but hidden. This way of thinking worked its way insidiously and damagingly, just like the role of women in society, into the beliefs and practices of Māori. Traditional practices were frowned upon, legislated against (1907 Tohunga Suppression Act), and soon the tikanga and importance of those things was lost.  It is for this reason as well as the traditional dominance of men in the field of medicine that women’s health is relegated to second place and research into women’s health is not taken seriously. 

So, what is the solution? I talked about Moana Jackson’s concept of ‘Parallelism’ in a previous blog – the concept that there can be parallel systems that exist alongside each other like the Te Aka Whai Ora does with Te Whatu Ora. We also know that Māori don’t have positive experiences in hospitals, just like schools they are establishments with systems and structures that privilege a Pākehā way of doing things and they don’t meet the needs of Māori. 

Way back in 1918, following the deaths of so many Māori from the flu, Princess Te Puea had a dream to create a hospital for Māori at Ngāruawāhia. At the heart of her plans for Tūrangawaewae Marae was;

“Māhinārangi wharenui, a hospital for Māori by Māori that took a holistic approach incorporating tikanga (customs), rongoā Māori and Western medicine under one roof, designed aesthetically for Māori. Hērangi saw firsthand the benefits of having Māori surrounded by their culture and having that infused in their wellbeing.”

Ngāruawāhia locals want the kind of healthcare first envisioned by Princess Te Puea Hērangi 100 years ago

Only a few days ago, Kingi Tūheitia, broached the subject again at the Hui-ā-motu at Tūrangawaewae. He said that;

“In her (Te Puea) view, and the argument still stands strong today, that if Māori can see themselves in the medical system, then they will engage a little bit better. In that time in the 1920s there was a whole lot of mistrust and people didn’t want to go to the Pākehā hospitals because they felt there were some underlying things, racism.”

Kīngitanga calls for Māori hospital to fulfil the vision of Princess Te Puea – NZ Herald

So, what would a hospital for Māori look like today?  How would it meet the needs of Māori bnetter than our current hospitals? Is it, as some would say a separatist concept and one that priveleges oine race over another? So many questions to ponder and find answers to! 

References

Waitangi Tribunal bid made in attempt to stop abolition of Te Aka Whai Ora, the Māori Health Authority | RNZ News

Decolonise your body! The fascinating history of Māori and periods | The Spinoff

Ngāruawāhia locals want the kind of healthcare first envisioned by Princess Te Puea Hērangi 100 years ago

Kīngitanga calls for Māori hospital to fulfil the vision of Princess Te Puea – NZ Herald