Ngāhuia te Awekōtuku (Te Arawa, Tūhoe, Ngāpuhi, Waikato) has degrees from the University of Auckland and University of Waikato. An Emeritus Professor, she has worked as a curator, lecturer, critic, researcher and governor in the heritage and university sectors. She is a Member of the New Zealand Order of Merit, a Companion of the Royal Society of New Zealand, and a Fellow of the Auckland War Memorial Museum. She has returned to the pā and serves on the Paepae Tapu o Ngāti Whakaue. She loves cats and chocolate.
What do you think your tīpuna would think of your book? What would their reactions be? What do you think your mokopuna will think of this book?
I’d like to think they’d laugh, and remember too. And maybe correct me, or review and edit and contribute to and expand the narrative, vividly enriching the readers’ experience. Though I wrote these pages primarily mō ngā uri whakatupu; for the ones who now live in such a different world, and ask about what it used to be like. And of course, Hine Toa is also for the ones yet to come. My mokopuna – my siblings’ many uri, and my own dear mokopuna Caitlin – share with me their wonder, and their curiosity. That is, the ones who have read it! They like finding out what happened ages ago – it’s like ancient history, but it’s THEIR history.
Your pukapuka speaks very vividly into the complexities of whānau and those relationships. You have been able to unreservedly share your truth, whilst still managing to maintain the mana of people within your wider whānau who may have been involved in causing mamae. What advice would you give to other writers who are navigating that journey?
Kia tūpato, kia maia, kia mataara. Be really sensitive and aware of what you’re writing, and be prepared most of all to own it, and defend it; because ultimately it is ONLY YOUR version of what happened. Others, especially close whanau who were also there, may recall something quite different. Be ready for that. Hold on to your own truth; but respect theirs too. Kia manawanui. Use different names, create composite characters, disguise people but stay true to the actual events, shift locations; where it works without compromising the story, change the timeline.
The question of what it means to be Māori is examined in your book from childhood through to adulthood and explicitly so in your groundbreaking activism mahi, especially in the wāhine and takatāpui spaces. What are the key lessons that you’d like readers to take away from your book when we are thinking about what it means to be Māori?
Whakapapa is the quintessence of who we are. Know yourself. Find out what you can. Celebrate, honour, and own it all. Never give up. Keep fighting & writing. Believe in yourself. Wairua is vital – understand the relationships (whakapapa) between the different realms, ecologies, senses, worlds, realities; explore all the spaces in between, and learn not to fear them. Believe in other people; share the love, try to understand. Make sure you have at least one genuine ally or real friend or listening, trustworthy pair of ears. Being Maori is to walk in beauty, however challenging, hard or dysfunctional that may look or seem or feel at a particular moment. It will pass. Make yourself move on.
From a young age it feels as though you had an unwavering sense of self. What factors in your life contributed the most to that understanding?
Just one….I grew up with luminous, loving women; my kuia, my aunties, my whaea atawhai, my cousins, my sisters. And most of them never lost faith in me; and the ones that did lose faith and sat in judgement, don’t matter.
What books or other art forms influenced you while writing this book?
My home is Ohinemutu, tāku ūkaipō; three carved houses, superb traditional whakairo, kōwhaiwhai, tukutuku, kākahu; and the magic of karanga, whaikorero, waiata, haka, all around me, all the time.
Living Maori artmakers – Lisa Reihana, Brett Graham, Kura te Waru Rewiri, Fred Graham, Emily Karaka, Sandy Adsett, Mataaho, Sam Aroha Mitchell, Corey Masters, Jean Kahui, Tenga Rangitauira, Turuhira Julie Taare, Gordon Toi Hatfield, Rachel Rakena, others – feed my imagination every day with their creative work. I am truly grateful to them.
Which book by a Māori author have you read lately that you loved and what did you love about it?
Shilo Kino’s The Pōrangi Boy. This is so cheeky, authentic, hilarious; you live every moment with Niko; his triumphs, his frustrations, his dreams. It’s a fast read, and uplifting entertainment. I loved it!
What advice do you have for emerging Māori writers?
Try to understand the nature of conflict, because that’s what makes a good story. Don’t ever write about what you don’t know…by making stuff up, in an historical or iwi-based context, you can get caught out. Check, check, and check again – ask someone who does know, or simply cast it aside, and do something else. Don’t bullshit. Never compare yourself to another writer, or sit your work next to theirs. You are you. Your voice is yours.
