Mā te kimi ka kite
Mā te kite ka mōhio
Mā te mōhio ka mārama”
(Seek and discover. Discover and know. Know and become enlightened.)
Taea Staples (Ngāti Tūwharetoa, Ngāpuhi, Te Atihaunui a Pāpā Rangi)
Hidden voices waiting to speak. Their eyes, begging be seen, and their stories ready to be told. Who will re-surface their truths and breathe life into them. They are entrenched in the ground, hidden under the surface. Parts splash in the rain and others surround us like the wind. Aspects appear and voices linger, but it takes many to unravel this colonial web and get to the centre. And once we get to the centre, I wonder who and what will be revealed within.
Strolling around Te Papa, you are drawn to the largest marae in the te ao Māori section. You walk up the large staircase, leading you to the feet of Te Hau ki Tūranga.
You greet and introduce yourself and then your head lifts to see its entirety. Your eyes lowering to meet the surrounded whakairo and tukutuku panels within. In awe of this, you took a breath to take it all in.
You started wondering, “Who does this marae belong to? Is this a gift to Te Papa? Or something else”.
You search for the panels in hope it would answer your questions. Turning your head left and right, to then walking around the arms of Te Hau ki Tūranga…...but there were no answers to be seen.
You ask a nearby Te Papa staff if they had the answers. They tell you it belongs to Rongowhakaata but was stolen from them.
Stolen. Stolen. Stolen.
They guide you to where the panels are, and together, you walk down the stairs, around the side, to a dimmed lighted area where the centre lies.
You, Te Hau ki Tūranga are showcased as an exotic, alluring artefact of Te ao Māori. The centre. The attraction. The masterpiece.
Many, captivated by and drawn to your beauty. Many, impressed by the intricate carvings and details. Many, majority, most, assume you are simply a gift to Te Papa.
But does this beauty conceal your pain within?
Your centre spirals around in the distance. Disconnected from your pain. But your story is one of kidnapping, imprisonment and suffering.
Your people called for you. Drenched their tears and burned their anger. Written. Articulated. Presented.
Their calls laughed at. Shredded to pieces. Tossed away like a forgotten thought.
They confined you to dusty, shadowed vaults of forgotten museums.
You laid captive in silence. Imprisoned in the dark for over half a century.
How did it feel to be hidden, to be paralysed, to be held captive and then deemed worthy of the light half a century later?
Even in the light, your chains cross over your heart, mouth and eyes.
Your tears drip heavy to the ground. To the place where I sit. Your tears soon became mine.
Which do you prefer, Te Hau ki Tūranga, the dark or the light?
Because while you stand in the light, your story whispers from the dark.
History may cloak itself in clarity yet deceives us. Consider it a puzzle with missing pieces, claiming its complete. The missing pieces drift upon our shores, soar through the winds, and touch us like Tamanui te rā. You feel their call, urging you to search, to find the missing fragments and place them into position. Only then can you approach the centre, where ancient eyes watch, where timeless voices speak, and where the wisdom of the past is waiting to be unearthed. So, who will seek the centre in the light and in the dark? Mā te kimi ka kite, mā te kite ka mōhio, mā te mōhio ka mārama.
Historical context:
Te Hau ki Tūranga was built in 1840 by Rahuruhi Rukupō of Rongowhakaata. It is the oldest marae in the world. In 1867, Te Hau ki Tūranga was stolen by colonial official James Richmond. Immediately afterward, Rongowhakaata issued a petition protesting this confiscation. The colonial government responded to this petition, claiming that Te Hau ki Tūranga had been sold to them for one hundred pounds. As a result, Te Hau ki Tūranga was not returned and remained in the basement of Wellington museums for the next half-century. In the 1930s, Āpriana Ngata facilitated the reconstruction of Te Hau ki Tūranga for display at Wellington museums, including the Colonial Museum, then the Dominion Museum, and now currently at Te Papa Tongarewa. As of 2017, ownership of Te Hau ki Tūranga was returned to Rongowhakaata. However, the estimated cost of $24.8 billion, along with various other concerns regarding its return, is why it remains at Te Papa. The theft of Te Hau ki Tūranga is an injustice, and Te Papa's display of this history is further problematic. While the panels are there, they are significantly disconnected from Te Hau ki Tūranga, enforcing a misleading narrative that the marae was gifted to Te Papa. This situation fails to adequately acknowledge the colonial legacy that Te Hau ki Tūranga represents today. This poem challenges the current location of the Te Hau ki Tūranga panels at Te Papa and further calls for collective and critical engagement with history. Nō reira, nau mai ki te Pūrākau o ‘Te Hau ki Tūranga and the colonial web’.
