THE PRICE IS PAID

Last Wednesday, our roopu of kuia, mokopuna and rangatahi arose, readied ourselves and made our way to Waitangi in time to join the throngs who came to open the 28 Māori Battalion Museum which is built opposite the ‘treaty house’ there.

In the stygian darkness, Wahoroi Shortland of Ngāti Hine prepared us for the ritual to come, beginning at 5am with the drawn out urgency of the pūtatara, continuing through the rhythmic revelation of the waerea, and culminating in our thrice repeated responses to two questions, “Ko wai te ingoa o tēnei pou?” (what is the name of this pou?) and “Ko wai te ingoa o tēnei whare?” (what is the name of this house?).

Then, as we began the long, slow hikoi past the pou and into the whare, one of my mokopuna became suddenly nauseous.  So, we moved out of the throng and took seats beneath the flagpole to allow him to recover in the warm womb of darkness.

Sitting there, I pondered what had happened and wondered why.  

I thought about how the Battalion’s four Companies had been organised along hakapapa lines and had nicknames reflective of them and / or their rohe. 

A Company, drawn from Ngāti Whātua, Ngāpuhi and other northern iwi were Ngā Keri Kāpia (the Gum Diggers).  B Company, centred on Te Arawa and the Mataatua tribes, were Ngā Ruku Kapa (the Penny Divers).  C Company drawn from the the Tairawhiti/East Coast region were Ngā Kaupoi (the Cowboys) and D Company, which covered the whole of the South Island and the remainder of the North Island were the Foreign Legion or Ngāti Walkabout.

I thought about how the location of the museum was based on Sir Apirana Ngata’s famous 1940 speech at Waitangi where he said Māori serving in World War 2 was “the price of citizenship”.  And I thought about how there had not been unanimous support from the descendants of the Battalion’s other Companies for it to be located in Waitangi.

Then I thought about the men of our whānau who had served.  Two brothers, Arani Pirika Herepete (A Company) and Timoti Herepete (B Company), two cousins Rawiri Te Paa (A Company) and Robert Kara Rollo (B Company).  I thought about how they all came home alive but changed and how not one of them lived beyond 50.  Maringi noa nga roimata and as my tears fell in the darkness, I understood. 

For the next few hours, I told my mokopuna about each of their tūpuna.  Then the sun came up, and as we surveyed the crowds still thronging through the doors we quietly left. 

While Te Rau Aroha (the name of the museum) contains mementos and artefacts of our tūpuna and their compatriots, their essence is contained within us, their uri.  And when we return, to properly honour them all I hope my mokopuna will understand that not only has the price of their and our citizenship been paid, it should never have been charged.