TOHORA AND KAURI

There is a pakiwaitara (legend) that tells of a time when Tohorā (the Whale) lived on land and was very close to his brother, Kauri (Agathis Australis).  However, unlike the young Kauri, the giant Tohorā yearned to be free from Iwi (nations) who constantly hunted him for wealth and mana.

Knowing that his teina (younger brother) would face the same fate when he grew tall and strong, Tohorā suggested they take refuge within the depths of the Whare belonging to their uncle Tangaroa (Atua of the sea) where they would be far from the reach of those who hunted them.

But Kauri loved the embrace of Papatūānuku (Earth Mother) and was rooted so deep into the Whare of his father Tāne (Atua of the forest), that Tohorā could not take him to the sea.  So, before he left, Tohorā bestowed upon Kauri a cloak made of his skin to give him some protection from those who would hunt him for his golden blood.

As time went by, Tohorā regularly rose from the depths and sent bursts of wai (water) towards Ranginui (the Sky Father) in the hopes that his love would be carried on the winds of Tāwhirimātea (Atua of the winds) to touch his teina. 

At the same time, Kauri soaked up mana from Papatūānuku to grow taller and stronger in the hopes that he would one day be able to look out to sea and gaze upon his beloved tuakana (older brother) once more.

Although Iwi remain kaihakamahi (users) of the resources provided by Tohorā and Kauri, we have always been their whanaunga (relations) and are also their kaitiaki (protectors).  So, whenever they return to the land, we support their passage from one plain of existence to the next and thank them for providing us with the mana of their kōhiwi (bones).  They also remind us that we are kaitiaki of Kauri. 

At the same time, Kauri continue to purify our air and their kiri (bark) reminds us of our responsibility to look after the children of Tohorā who come ashore in our rohe.

That is why Te Whānau Moana me Rorohuri, supported by neighbouring hapū, DoC, Ngāti Kahu Rūnanga and Te Tohunga Tohorā, are preparing the Parāoa (sperm whale) that died on Tokerau Beach last week.  

It’s also why other Iwi are working to save the Tohorā that grounded on Te Oneroa-ā-Tohe (Ninety Mile Beach) over the weekend.  

Finally, it’s why, at 2pm today, there is a hui at 21A Parkdale Cres in Kaitāia with the Ministry of Primary Industries to address the dieback disease killing Kauri.

The pakiwaitara above tells us it is no coincidence that Tohorā and Kauri are both in distress at this time.  However, it also tells us that their healing may be found in their relationship.  So too do these two hakatauki (proverbs):  Anā tā te Parāoa (here is the strength of the Sperm Whale).  Kia toitū he Kauri (keep Kauri standing).  Koinā te kōrero. 

HAKAPAPA OF WATER

In a recent article for Spin-Off, Tina Ngata of Ngāti Porou, described the hakapapa of water to help people understand the prevailing Māori perspective on the current freshwater debate.  Her discourse is too important to summarise, so I have taken the liberty of quoting her opening statements extensively, as follows:

“Our world, Te Ao Māori, is a hakapapa – one vast genealogical chart that connects us as siblings, mutually dependent upon all that surrounds us in this time, and across time.

“Water first manifests in this genealogy as Wainuiātea – the great expanse of water, the gathering of all waters – who was the first partner of Ranginui, the Sky Father. Freshwater first appears as a consequence of the parting of Ranginui, Sky Father, from Papatūānuku, Earth Mother. Their grief and yearning for each other presents as the teardrops (rain) of Ranginui and the sighs (mist) of Papatūānuku.

“We can therefore see freshwater as the inevitable consequence of atmosphere, upon which all life depends. It is brought about through the separation of land and sky, held in place through the Atua Tāne, in the form of trees.

“In this form, Tāne is known as Tāne-Toko-Rangi – Tāne who holds up the sky. However, one of his multitude of other forms is Tāne te Waiora – Tāne of the life-giving waters, of light, well-being and prosperity. It was the union of Tāne te Waiora and Hinetūparimaunga, the Atua of mountains, that brought about Parawhenuamea, personification of freshwater on land.

“That first sacred teardrop became Te Ihorangi, Atua of rain, parent of the hundreds of different forms of rain and snow that each had its own name, and also parent of Tuna, the freshwater eel. Once born, Tuna was given into the care of Parawhenuamea and Hinemoana, Atua of freshwater and saltwater.

“Hakapapa helped us to consider the consequences of our actions across multiple spaces and make sense of what was happening around us. Indeed, relationships – hakapapa – are regularly cited as a foundational principle of Te Ao Māori.

“Māori scholars have often reflected upon the severe impacts of the loss of Mana Atua upon our people’s well-being, upon our perception of the world around us and our place in it… What was once a relationship based upon connectedness and reciprocity between us and our non-human ancestors thereby shifts towards one of dominion over and ownership of assets.”

In closing, I note that the above shift is not only unhealthy and unhelpful, it is all too often matched by a shift in the longstanding relationships between whānau, hapū and iwi (humans related by hakapapa) from reciprocity towards rancour over who has rights and responsibilities over which wai.  In the meantime, the wai itself is degrading and dying right before our eyes.

It is way past time that we remembered or relearnt all of our hakapapa to each other, including to water, because ultimately, all life depends on it.

DEALING WITH THE DISEASE

The hapū and iwi of Aotearoa must deal with the same domestic and international pressures as other sovereign nations; climate change, pollution, violence, security and wellbeing, trade agreements, me wētahi atu (etc).   We must also deal with the modern day diseases of colonisation that afflict too many of our people; welfare dependency, poor health, low education, high unemployment, crime, addiction, suicide, me wētahi atu.

The medical definition of disease is “a particular abnormal condition that negatively affects the structure or function of part or all of an organism, and that is not due to any external injury.”  In humans, disease may refer to any condition that causes physical or emotional pain, dysfunction, distress, social problems, or death to the person afflicted, or for those in contact with the person.

So, what do we do about the diseases of colonisation amongst our hapū and iwi?

The first thing we do is study and understand the diseases’ causes and correlations so that we can identify their structures and pinpoint their power sources – the things that keep them in place, alive and breeding.  This kind of analysis is not a blame game exercise.  It’s a simple reality that must be done if we are to treat these diseases amongst ourselves, and it requires an unflinching and fearless look at ourselves as well as the colonisers.

Seven generations after Te Tiriti o Waitangi was signed, this is a work still in progress and only our Prophets can see the end in clear sight.  But even before I started writing these columns 12 years ago, our collective understanding had been greatly enlightened by the work and teachings of generations of enlightened rangatira.

Just in Te Hiku o Te Ika alone, and in my lifetime, we were blessed to learn from the likes of Nuki Aldridge, Hone Kamariere, Pa Henare Tait, Gloria Herbert, Māori Marsden, Makari Matiu, Matiu Rata, Mira Szaszy, Whina Cooper, Ta Hemi Henare and so many others.  Today, we carry the work on without fear that it will ever fail, especially when we consider the powerful people we have birthed and grown who already work alongside us as we did with our kuia kaumātua, and who will replace us eventually. 

In the coming weeks and months, I will cover the many ways in which we are slowly but steadily treating and recovering from these diseases that are common amongst colonised peoples around the world.

To end this column, we know that none of the modern day diseases listed above existed amongst hapū and iwi prior to colonisation.  If they had, then the fantasies of yesteryear’s coloniser, like terra nullius, would have been fulfilled as fact, and the odd notions of their modern counterparts that Europeans rather than Māori were the first inhabitants of these islands would be accepted as fact.

  

Those fantasies and notions have a disease pathology of their own, but I will leave them for others to deal with.

DONE AND DUSTED

This is the time of year when many charities are reporting to their members at their Hui-a-Tau (AGM) and the Ngāti Kahu Group is amongst that number.  The parent body of the Group is Te Rūnanga-ā-Iwi o Ngāti Kahu which has two first tier subsidiaries and one second tier subsidiary. 

At the AGM last Saturday, the Rūnanga confirmed its 26 current Board members who represent 13 Marae as well as our sole Auckland-based Taurahere.  Then, along with its subsidiaries, the Rūnanga reported the highlights and lowlights of 2018, the most important being that Kotahitanga o Ngāti Kahu (Ngāti Kahu unity) was supported, promoted and modelled for all we were worth! 

It also covered our efforts to help our treaty partner rid itself of the stigma of recidivist criminality that dogs it to this day.  The fact that the Crown’s previous government lost its mandate last year after unsuccessfully trying to over-ride and replace the Ngāti Kahu mandate has not changed anything; the previous government was unsuccessful, and its successor remains unshriven.

We also reported on the decent relationships we have with Shanghai CRED, Taitokerau Culinary College Taitokerau QRC Resort College, PĀMU and various arms of our treaty partner.

On the educational front, we covered our Māori – Mandarin language exchange, hakaora o te reo me ona tikanga Māori (revitalisation of our language and protocols), provision of access to higher learning and training opportunities, and participation in Te Kāhui Ako o Te Hiku o Te Ika which covers ten mainstream schools in the district.

Our environmental outcomes included support for the Hapū Integration Group on the Taipā Bridge Upgrade Project, support for Project Waiporohita to restore the mauri of our lovely little lake, support for the establishment of the Rāhui and the Pou at Maitai Bay, and support for the Para Kore (Zero Waste), Maara Kai (community gardens), and Ngā Maramara o Parata (Parkdale Park) projects.

Underpinning this aspect of our charitable work was Te Hakaputanga o Te Rangatiratanga o Ngāti Kahu (the Declaration of Sovereignty of the Hapū of Ngāti Kahu) which is notified every year to the Crown and its agents, as well as to the general public.

We also reported on our advocacy, child care and protection and constitutional transformation work, as well as our delivery of wananga on Tikanga Tangihanga (death and funeral protocols), Ohu Kaimoana (customary fishing protocols) and Dynamics of Whanaungatanga, complemented by the publication of our book, Ngāti Kahu: Portrait of a Sovereign Nation and the unveiling of our pou, Te Hononga o Ngāti Kahu as part of our 2018 symposium. 

Te Rūnanga-ā-Iwi o Ngāti Kahu’s charitable outcomes during the year were all self-funded, confirming that Iwi don’t need a Crown-determined “settlement” (in reality an extinguishment of Ko Te Tuatahi me Ko Te Tuarua o Te Tiriti o Waitangi) to meet our Ko Te Tuatoru rights and needs. 

Today we can report that it is our AGM that is done and dusted, not our rangatiratanga.