Ngoingoi Pēwhairangi E-Book

Tania M. Ka'ai

• Herausgeber: Huia Publishers
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Ngoingoi Pēwhairangi was a highly respected leader from Te Whānau-a-Ruataupare at Tokomaru Bay who was passionate about the revitalisation and flourishing of the Māori world. She actively introduced initiatives in education, language and the arts and was a Māori leader of note, receiving a QSM for her services to Māori. She is also widely remembered for her beautiful song compositions, which are performed today. This biography describes her considerable achievements across many areas, her work for others, her humility and perseverance, and it brings her to life through stories from her peers, former students and family.

Leseprobe

First published in 2008 by Huia Publishers

This edition published in 2019

39 Pipitea Street, PO Box 12280

Wellington, Aotearoa New Zealand

www.huia.co.nz

ISBN 978-1-77550-388-0 (EPUB)

ISBN 978-1-77550-388-0 (Kindle)

ISBN 978-1-77550-348-4 (print)

Copyright © Tania Ka‘ai 2008, 2019

Front cover image courtesy of Pēwhairangi Whānau Trust

Back cover image courtesy of Dalvanius Prime

This book is copyright. Apart from fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without the prior permission of the publisher.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of New Zealand.

Published with the support of

The waiata referenced in this book can be viewed on the Tāmata Toiere website www.waiata.maori.nz or by scanning the QR code above.

Ebook conversion 2019 by meBooks.

He Tohu Whakamaumaharatanga

This book is dedicated to the memory of the great men in my life. Firstly, to my father, Māhealani Ka‘ai, whose sudden death while I was completing my PhD thesis still affects me every day of my life. I know that you will be proud of this book. Me ke aloha Pāpā. Secondly, to John Hunia, who believed in me from a young age and supported me through my early education at Kawerau College. This was complemented by the support and mentoring I received from John Te Rangiāniwaniwa Rangihau when I studied at the University of Waikato. E ngā manu tāiko o Mātaatua waka, moe mai rā kōrua, ko taku aroha mō kōrua e kore e mimiti. And, finally, to Rikirangi Ben Pēwhairangi, who asked me to write this book in memory of his treasured wife. E te pāpā, te rau matua o tō pū harakeke e kore koe e warewaretia.

Contents

List of Illustrations

He Hokinga Mahara – Nā Parekura Horomia

He Hokinga Mahara – Nā Katerina Mataira

He Hokinga Mahara – Nā Rawinia Higgins

Preface – Ka Noho Au i Konei

Ngā Mihi

He Whakarāpopototanga

He Kupu Whakataki – Ehara Tēnei i Te Maunga Nekeneke

Mai i Te Poho o Te Tikanga

He Pā Harakeke

Te Kura Tuarua o Ngā Kōtiro o Tūranganui-a-Kiwa

Tuakina Mai Rā Ngā Akoranga

Kia Kaha Ngā Iwi Pupuritia

Tō Reo Whakarongo

He Whatu Tāniko, He Whatu Tāngata

Rere Atu Taku Poi

Mā ō Mahi ka Kitea Koe, E Te Ao, E Tō Iwi Māori

He Kupu Tuku Iho Mō Tēnei Reanga

He Kupu Whakamutunga

Appendix One: Historical Context

Appendix Two: Samples of Ngoi’s Writing

Glossary

Contributors

Bibliography

Index

Illustrations

1.View of Te Toka-a-namu from Marotiri.

2.Te Poho o Te Tikanga, Waiparapara marae, Tokomaru Bay.

3.Wī Matahiki and Huka Pohaera, circa 1930, sitting outside a kāuta at Waiparapara marae, Tokomaru Bay.

4.Ngoi and her sisters, Hārata, Nunu and Mere.

5.Iranui (Aunty Ada) Haig at Pākirikiri marae.

6.Wikitōria Matahiki.

7.Ngoi at Hukarere Māori Girls’ College, Napier, with members of the 28th Māori Battalion.

8.Te Hokowhitu-a-Tū at Pūtiki marae, Whanganui.

9.Tuīni Ngāwai, Ngoi Pēwhairangi and the rest of the group performing at the investiture hui for the posthumous award of the Victoria Cross to Second Lieutenant Te Moana-nui-a-Kiwa Ngarimu at Ruatōria in 1943.

10.Sonny Kōpua, Lou Prime, Tuīni Ngāwai and Ngoi.

11.Te Hokowhitu-a-Tū with Tuīni.

12.Marriage to Rikirangi Ben Pēwhairangi at Waiparapara, 1945.

13.Te Poho o Te Tikanga, Waiparapara marae, prior to the renovations.

14.Tokomaru Bay Freezing Works, 1910.

15.Ngoi and her sister-in-law Te Ngaroroa at Mangahauini.

16.Ngoi, Terewai and Ben.

17.Irene Constance Pēwhairangi weaving a kete.

18.Ngoi and Ben with their mokopuna Gina at Ngoi’s sixtieth birthday, Tokomaru Bay.

19.Ngoi’s sixtieth birthday, Tokomaru Bay.

20.Ngoi and Ben with their mokopuna Gina.

21.Ngoi with Waiparapara marae whānau.

22.Ngoi and students from Gisborne Girls’ High School on the steps of Parliament, Wellington.

23.Gisborne Girls’ High School staff photo.

24.Ngoi and Gisborne Girls’ High School Māori Club.

25.Ngoi and students from Gisborne Girls’ High School at Parliament, Wellington, with Hon. Whetu Tirikātene-Sullivan.

26.Ben preparing a hāngi for a hui, Pākirikiri marae.

27.Ngoi and her kapa haka group (Gisborne Girls’ High School and Gisborne Boys’ High School).

28.Letter to Ngoi from Governor General Sir Keith Holyoake, proposing her QSM award, 1977.

29.Governor General Sir Keith Holyoake presenting Ngoi with her QSM award, 1977.

30.Ngoi and Ben at Government House after Ngoi received her QSM, 1977.

31.Ngoi at a hui.

32.Ngoi and others from Tairāwhiti leaving a performing arts hui at Tūrangawaewae.

33.Ngoi with Dr Michael King during the filming of the Tangata Whenua series, 1973.

34.Ngoi with Iritana Tāwhiwhirangi at a hui.

35.Students learning by Te Ataarangi method during the broadcasting hui held by Ngoi.

36.Ngā kuia o Te Ataarangi, Iranui Haig and Ngoi Pēwhairangi.

37.Ngoi at Te Ataarangi hui.

38.Ngoi had a great passion for the development of Māori arts.

39.Ngoi at the National Weavers’ Association inaugural hui, Labour weekend 1983.

40.Johnnie Frisbee, Ngoi and Sir Kīngi Ihaka.

41.Ngoi addressing the first weavers’ hui she convened, at Labour weekend 1983.

42.Ngoi at the first weavers’ hui.

43.Ngoi teaching at a reo and tikanga wānanga, Pākirikiri marae.

44.Ngoi at a hui.

45.Ngoi with students at the Koha hui, Tokomaru Bay.

46.Ngoi and Pā Ariki of Rarotonga at Pākirikiri marae, Tokomaru Bay.

47.Ngoi with whānau performing at a hui at Pākirikiri marae.

48.Ngoi, friends and whānau performing for Te Hokowhitu-a-Tū.

49.Ngoi receiving a trophy as winners of a kapa haka festival.

50.Ngoi’s junior kapa haka group from Tokomaru Bay.

51.Ngoi and Ben with Jean Wikiriwhi at the Rotorua Polynesian Festival in the 1970s.

52.The original composition of ‘E Ipo’ that Ngoi wrote.

53.Ngoi with Dalvanius Prime.

54.Dalvanius Prime with Ngoi, his god-daughter (Ngoi’s mokopuna).

55.Ngoi at the fiftieth jubilee celebration of Te Hokowhitu-a-Tū, Easter 1981.

56.Ben Pēwhairangi and Noel Raihānia.

57.Ngoi with Selwyn Parata at Te Hui Kaitito, 1984.

58.Iranui Haig, Ngoi and Ben Pēwhairangi at Pākirikiri marae.

59.The Ngāwai family.

60.Kumeroa Ngoingoi Pēwhairangi.

61.Ngoi preparing kai for another hui.

62.Ngoi shares kai in the kitchen at Pākirikiri.

63.Ngoi and Gina, Ngoi’s mokopuna, with friends.

64.Ngoi’s granddaughter, Ngoi Kumeroa Iranui Pēwhairangi.

65.Gina’s children to Ondre Te Hau.

66.Gina’s children, Ruaumoko and Te Aomihia Pēwhairangi-Te Hau.

67.Te Aomihia Pēwhairangi-Te Hau joins with Te Whānau-a-Ruataupare at the Ngāti Porou festival.

68.Ngoi’s great-granddaughter, Iwiata Morgan Pēwhairangi-Nukunuku.

69.Te Aomihia Pēwhairangi, Iwiata Pēwhairangi-Nukunuku, Ruaumoko Te Hau, Tere-i-te-wai Pēwhairangi-Nukunuku, Enoka Pēwhairangi-Nukunuku.

HE HOKINGA MAHARA

Nā Parekura Horomia

I first met Aunty Ngoi and Uncle Ben when I was very young and my grandfather Pōneke had the shearing runs. However, it was only when I returned to Ngāti Porou when I was much older that I really came to know Aunty Ngoi. The longest time I spent with Aunty Ngoi was a period of seven or eight years when we had high unemployment in the late seventies and eighties. During this time, she talked to me about a host of things to do with her travels. One of the things etched on my mind today is that she spent a lot of time with other Māori leaders, such as John Tāpiata, Aunty Lena Manuel, Aunty Iritana Tāwhiwhirangi, John Rangihau and Hōhua Tūtangaehe, who would often enlist her support. She was, in her own way, one of the pioneering Māori bureaucrats. She travelled the country, supporting many Māori organisations, and she was tactical in the way she got what she believed in, in relation to being Māori – for Māori, by Māori – through government agencies, various education forums or social welfare forums. She also had a real knack of creating a following, of both Māori and Pākehā.

There was a time from the eighties to the nineties when I visited most of the marae in the country. One of the significant memories I have of this time is seeing in many of these marae the same photo of Aunty Ngoi, which had been hung after she had passed away. This shows she was a wahine of huge influence.

I remember some of the special times with Aunty Ngoi when I was the boss in the Labour Department. She would ring me up and tell me to pick her up when I was up on the Coast. Sometimes we’d go up north and see people at Pōtaka, Ruatōria and Tikitiki, and then we’d come back to Tokomaru Bay. Other times, she’d tell me to pick her up, and she’d go to the Regent Café in Gisborne, which was one of her favourite eating places. From that day to this, one of my favourite dishes is the hāpuka and eggs that was on the menu. In hindsight, I think Aunty Ngoi was doing two things – mentoring me and showing her support of me and my work in the Labour Department amongst our Ngāti Porou people.

Aunty Ngoi did some amazing things. She was strong at working with outside interests, and she had an incredible tenacity to work within the confines of tauiwi government and tauiwi bureaucracy and really get her way. She was strong on cultural renaissance and on the preservation of our land. She was strong at keeping her beloved Hokowhitu-a-Tū alive, and those who worked with her in kapa haka and who are still here today, such as Kohi and Rāwiri who were youngsters in those days, have certainly benefited from her influence.

I recall when Dalvanius did a stint with her in Tokomaru Bay; he was a singer, a great singer. He was doing ‘Poi E’, and she was writing lyrics; it was a fabulous time. She used to tell Dalvanius, ‘The only good thing about you, Dalvanius, is that you make good fruit drinks.’ He used to make sodas, and Aunty Ngoi loved him for that, and she also cherished his singing ability.

I was there when she wrote that great waiata ‘Ka Noho Au’. If you look at the words of ‘Ka Noho Au’, I think that it’s a great summary of Ngoi’s beliefs, of what she stood for and why she was so strong at doing what she did and being who she was.

Ngoi knew some great things about our marae. One day she said to me, ‘If you go out to Hinetamatea, there’re some carvings from Hikuwai that have been stored there for years.’ We were doing the restoration of marae on the Coast then. Cliff Whiting was getting into stride, and people such as Dollar Te Hau and Uncle Ben, Ngoi’s own tāne, were becoming very masterful in the restoration and preservation of our carving and tukutuku.

Ngoi was a fountain of knowledge and wisdom. She would always prime me before we had the Māori Council hui because I was the chairperson of the executive. She would also prime me before we had the Kōhanga Reo hui because I was the chairperson of the Kōhanga Reo Trust Training Branch. I always listened to her advice. We had some great whawhai, such as the time we fought to get the old school back at Tokomaru and turn it into a kōkiri centre.

On reflection, Ngoi also enlisted the support of her whānau, who were always close by – people such as Mere Pork, sister Charlotte, sister Nunu, Sugar, Uncle Ben, Aunty Matekai, a whole lot of wāhine and Uncle Phil. So, collectively, they kept the place going. There are many people I haven’t mentioned, such as Les and Aunty Ginger. They would rally around Ngoi and her causes, including enlisting the support of Pākehā and bringing some of them home to Tokomaru to spend time amongst her people. I used to ask her, ‘Why are you bringing those Pākehā home here?’ She told me, ‘It’s really important, boy; you need to grow up and learn that we have to work with Pākehā because they’re not going to disappear. What you really need to do is to understand what goes on in Wellington.’ So, Aunty Ngoi would bring Pākehā politicians back, and we’d host them, mihi to them, and they’d see what Tokomaru Bay was all about. She really believed in doing the right thing.

I remember Hōhua Tūtangaehe (he was a great old fella who spent his time in Ngāi Tahu) telling me that he believed Aunty Ngoi was one of the, if not the, Māori wahine in her time who really revved things up to go forward. She took you around the country and would try to team you up with other people, but she always had a task set up for you – to go and listen to that person or help that person or talk to that person. She was always directing things and making sure they were done.

Ngoi wasn’t shy of having a good time too. At home she loved playing cards with her whānau. That was when I saw her really happy. She would always put her hands in my pocket and say, ‘Give me some silvers.’ She would katakata haere, and it was a great sight watching them all doing that.

A couple of other memories come to mind. I was fighting unemployment within our whānau, and it was around Christmas, when there are always struggles and strains. I was a bit of a one-man band doing all the organising, being the boss and doing clerical stuff. It was New Year’s Day, and Ngoi was walking along the road. She said, ‘Where the heck are you going?’ I replied, ‘Oh, I just gotta go and finish my paperwork.’ Ngoi then said, ‘Don’t you go to damn work; it’s not the right thing to do. It’s the New Year, and you should be thinking about what you’re gonna do. Never mind going to work! You go down, do your stuff quickly and then come up home for a cup of tea, otherwise there’s things that might give you a fright if you carry on working today.’ I thought I’ll go down, do my stuff and call in on the way back, and hopefully by then, she might be asleep or something.

Well, I got up to the office, and as I gazed out the window, I saw these three big whales bouncing around in the sea. I packed up quickly and went back to Aunty Ngoi’s, and she said, ‘By Joe, you’re back quick!’ I said, ‘I was sitting at the window, and I saw all these whales swimming around.’ She said, ‘I tried to tell you, you know, that you shouldn’t go to work; you need to be enjoying life, like us.’ So, Aunty Ngoi was always giving me lessons. She used to often say to me, ‘Boy, you gotta go to Wellington. You gotta understand and go to Wellington. You’ll do all right. You go and get down there. I want you to get going.’ She kept on at me like that for a couple of years. I used to think ah, what the heck, it’s just Wellington. And here I am in Wellington.

In closing, I want to talk about Ngoi’s favourite marae, Waiparapara. When I had the job of looking after unemployment, I assembled plumbers and carpenters and a lot of hammer hands to help me restore marae, including repiling and restoring the carvings. One day, Ngoi said to me, ‘Boy, I want you to come to a meeting on Sunday at Waiparapara.’ At that time, the marae was a bit wobbly because it was old. There were only a dozen of us there, including Don Parata, Uncle Tait, Ginger, Nunu and Tui Coleman. At the meeting, Ngoi said, ‘I want to pull the marae down and build another one.’ I thought to myself gee hika, this is a pretty big go. Uncle Tait asked her, ‘Have you got a carpenter?’ She said, ‘Yes!’ I thought gee, I wonder who the hang that is. Then Ngoi pointed at me. I thought crikey dick, this is heavy stuff because this is a Ringatū marae, and we hadn’t built a brand new marae before. She said, ‘No, it’ll be okay!’ After that, she closed the meeting with a karakia, leaving me sitting on the veranda. I thought bugger this, I’ll call in and see her. When I arrived at the house, I called out to her. She said, ‘You just go and build that marae. You make sure it gets done. Pull it down and rebuild it!’

I left feeling a bit grumpy and went to talk with her great-nephew Tui Coleman. He wasn’t the flashest of carpenters, but he wanted to help on the project. So, Tui started, and then other people began chipping in. Two or three months down the track, Angeline Babbington, one of the whānau who had been working with us passed away. We were at her tangi at Pākirikiri. In the kitchen, the aunties, including Ngoi, were all playing cards. She called out to me, ‘Boy, how’s our marae?’ I said, ‘Oh, it’s nearly there.’ She said, ‘Oh, you go up and have a look at it.’ This was about ten at night. So, away I went. I will never forget what I saw when I got there. Tui Coleman was there, sitting on a box near the veranda with his flagon of beer. He said, ‘It’s finished.’ I had a look, and sure enough it was finished. All those people who had helped Tui to demolish the marae had stayed on to help him rebuild it, and they had done a grand job!

I went back to Pākirikiri around 11 o’clock, and Ngoi was still sitting at the table playing cards. She said, ‘How’s our whare, boy?’ I replied, ‘It looks beautiful, Aunty.’ Then she got up because the bell went for a late karakia. I’ll never forget Ngoi leaving to go to karakia. She glided down the kitchen with a boater hat and sang a beautiful tune about leaving and danced a jig like those people on Broadway. She was entertaining us, laughing like anything, and she kept on calling out to me, ‘Boy, you gotta go to church; get things right and get off to church. You should come now!’ I said, ‘Oh, nah, I’m tired, kui. I gotta go home.’ She replied, ‘Well don’t you forget – you make sure to go to church, because you need to.’ That was the last time I saw her. She passed away in the next couple of days.

I had a big tangi for Aunty Ngoi because she was a good person to me. I learnt a lot from her. She was unselfish with her knowledge, and she had a big heart. She really was, in my mind, what Māoridom has been about and should be about. I remember her tangi clearly. I remember people at the pō whakamutunga sleeping outside on the ground because of the huge crowds. It was one of the biggest tangi I have ever been to. I’ll always remember Aunty Ngoi as a great mentor, as a woman who gave unselfishly and as a great Māori leader of contemporary times. She was astute, and she was kind with her time – she was certainly kind to me. I was glad I built something for her. It was my last job on that scheme, and whenever I go past that marae, I always think about her. Kia ora.

Parekura Horomia

Former Minister of Māori Affairs

HE HOKINGA MAHARA

Nā Katerina Mataira

Mā ō mahi ka kitea koe e te ao, e tō iwi Māori.

The world and your Māori people will recognise you by what you do.

These are words from one of Ngoi’s many Māori waiata compositions that reflect her own personal commitment to life and her expectation of those she worked with.

I first met Ngoi on the occasion of a book launch in 1976. I had written a space saga in Māori called Te Ātea, and the launch was at Ngāti Porou, my home marae at Kariaka, Ruatōria. I was aware of Ngoi’s prowess as a songwriter and haka expert, but it wasn’t until 1979, when we found ourselves working together on initiating a community-based Māori language recovery project, that I came to know her.

I was a member of an advisory committee to the board of the then Council of Adult Education. Ngoi had been appointed by the council to teach Māori arts and crafts at marae around the country. I was there when Ngoi was presenting her annual report, at the end of which she said, ‘What the people out there want more than anything is their reo Māori.’

Aware that I had been doing some research on language recovery at the University of Waikato, the chairman of the council, Sir John Bennett, turned to me and said, ‘What are you going to do about that, Katerina?’

I had, in fact, just completed a pilot project to test the effectiveness of a particular language teaching method called the Silent Way in which coloured Cuisenaire rods were used to convey language structures and meaning. My response to Sir John was that I had a few ideas that might be useful, and he commanded Ngoi and me to find a way to meet the expressed need of so many Māori communities.

I’ll never forget that first day with Ngoi. She watched while I demonstrated. Then she’d go out for a smoke, after which she would come back and say, ‘Mahia mai anō.’ Over and over again, I demonstrated how the coloured rods could be manipulated to convey a teaching point. That took the greater part of the morning. When she finally sat down, reached for the rods and began, herself, to manipulate them, I stood back and watched. I was amazed at how quickly she recognised the potential of those rods as a teaching tool.

In that first week of working with Ngoi, we created a language learning system that was a combination of the coloured rods and Ngoi’s own style of incorporating waiata, haka, drama and role-playing in language learning. With full approval from the council, we decided to run a pilot scheme using native speakers of Māori. After minimal training, these first tutors set up their own small experimental classes and were so enthusiastic about the positive response of their students that we determined to further disseminate the idea. With funding from the Council of Adult Education and the then Department of Māori Affairs, Te Ataarangi was launched. Ngoi and I found ourselves travelling together, visiting marae, demonstrating the methodology, enlisting the co-operation of iwi and training native speakers to become local tutors in their communities.

Through Te Ataarangi, it was my privilege and joy to know Ngoi for the truly amazing person that she was. When I met her, she was already a person with mana in her own community at Tokomaru Bay and throughout the length and breadth of Ngāti Porou, where she was fondly referred to as Aunty Ngoi. On her own marae, she was the boss, and everyone took her advice and followed her instructions to the letter. She was never dictatorial or domineering, yet one word from her was all that was needed for things to happen. Nationwide, she was recognised not only for her songs and skills in Māori crafts but for her sense of humour, her down-to-earth simplicity and her generosity of heart. People loved her.

It was her mana that launched Te Ataarangi. It was her mana that convinced Māori communities that they had the expertise to do whatever they set their minds to, including the recovery and maintenance of their language. Whenever someone came to her with an idea, she would listen attentively and then say, ‘Mahia.’ In other words, ‘Do it.’ She was always supportive of other people’s ideas, but she expected people to take the initiative to test their ideas and not expect someone else to do so.

She was that way with me – encouraging me to be innovative, to trust my intuition, to take the initiative when necessary but always to weigh up the pros and cons of a situation. Working alongside her, I was happy to carry the bags and be her pononga, but that she would not allow. We were indeed a true partnership and combined our separate skills, talents and experience to achieve the best possible outcome. I can truly say that of all the people who have had an influence on my life, she has had the greatest. The philosophy and operations of Te Ataarangi, which continue to be fostered, bear witness to the commitment that Ngoi herself exemplified. She will never be forgotten by me or the whānau of Te Ataarangi.

Katerina Mataira

HE HOKINGA MAHARA

Nā Rawinia Higgins

During the birth of Te Ataarangi, I was privileged to encounter the warmth and generosity of the kuia Ngoi. Although my brother Raniera and I were only children, we spent a lot of time travelling with our mother, Ngoi, Katerina, Nanny Ada, Pāpā Hiti, Kotimana, Aunty Pae, Raukura, Liz Hunkin and many more, taking Te Ataarangi to the people all around the country. At the time, my brother and I probably did not realise the significance of Ngoi’s leadership and, like many people around us, saw her simply as Nanny Ngoi. Although she wasn’t our kuia ā-whakapapa, her warmth and generosity made us wish she was.

As a result of our travels, we befriended her mokopuna Gina as we were often the only kids around at the hui. Gina and I both share the experience of growing up in Te Ataarangi movement as well as attending Māori girls’ boarding schools in Napier; Gina went to Hukarere, like her nan, and I went to St Joseph’s Māori Girls’ College. We often used to see each other at the bus stop or at the netball court. Now when we meet, we understand the significance of growing up alongside the kuia and the influence that she had on so many people.

It is many years since the kuia passed on, and I can see that Gina exudes the kindness and warmth of her nanny that I remember as a child. In recent years, having met Ngoi pakupaku, I can also see the spirit of her kuia within her: her strength of character and forthrightness. These seemingly different mokopuna, however, have both inherently adopted their kuia’s pūmanawa to be ngākau māhaki and consequently are living reminders of their kuia to all of those who were lucky to have known her.

Growing up within the Māori world, I have seen many leaders who have helped to shape Māori society culturally, politically, tribally or through religion. Yet despite the emergence of these various leaders, there have been very few who have made as significant an impact on the nation as Ngoi. Such leaders have emerged organically from within the Māori world and have inspired, influenced and transformed people and communities they have worked with.

It has been a privilege to work alongside Professor Tania Ka‘ai on this book. It was an opportunity to get to know and understand more about a kuia who was kind to me and my brother when we were just young children growing up within a movement that has been embraced by thousands of people across the country. I am honoured to have been able to work with the transcripts of those people who were interviewed and to help shape the work to allow their voices to be heard and to reflect the heart of the kuia and the indelible mark she left on our country’s cultural, social and political landscape.

This book is a seminal piece of work that encapsulates the spirit of a woman who is considered a national giant in the Māori world and by many Pākehā and Pacific people with whom she came into contact. The unique nature of the work allows many of these people to recount their memories of a woman who touched their hearts and changed their lives forever.

E te kuia, e Ngoi, nei rā ngā mihi, ngā kupu taurangi a ō whānau whānui huri taiāwhio nei i te motu. Ko tāku noa, he kupu iti hai tāpiri atu ki ngā kōrero nei.

Rawinia Higgins (PhD)

PREFACE

Ka Noho Au i Konei

This book had its beginnings on a beautiful East Coast day in 1990 while I was sitting on the veranda of an old villa known affectionately as ‘the top house’ or ‘the grey house on the hill’ or ‘the big old grey house’. The house overlooks the ocean and the small community of Tokomaru Bay, which has a population of 350 that swells threefold in the summer months because of the sun, surf, fishing, seafood and the laid-back style of the place.

This one morning, the alert was sounded amongst the whānau that the kahawai were jumping in the breakers near the shoreline, and this roused everyone to take to the ocean in their boats. Uncle Ben and I made a cup of tea and sat at the table on the veranda, watching our whānau going to the ocean to try their luck at bringing in a healthy catch for the whānau. We asked each other whether we would be having fish for tea tonight, and we chuckled to ourselves as we knew the odds were in our favour, given the history of master mariners in the whānau and the fact that we are a coastal people.

The sun is such a tonic for me, and I recall allowing its rays to soak up the stress in my body and releasing myself into its warmth and energy, allowing the rays to pull at my mind, which drifted slowly away to that place between sleep and consciousness where my mind and body were one and I was totally relaxed. It was at that moment that Uncle Ben said in his quiet voice, ‘Tan, I want you to write a book about Aunty Ngoi.’ This immediately jolted me into a state of shock that rendered me speechless. When I finally gathered my thoughts, I asked him to give the idea some more thought. When he persisted, I then begged him to approach someone else in the whānau or even someone who was experienced at writing biographies, especially as I still had my PhD to complete. Uncle Ben responded, ‘No, we have already talked about it, and everyone in the Pēwhairangi Trust has agreed that we want you to write this book.’ After a very long pause, I responded, ‘Uncle, will you please let me finish my PhD first? And in this time, I ask that you think who else might be a good person to do this for the Trust. Then, and only then, if no one comes to mind, I will do this work for you.’ Uncle Ben agreed to this.

The whānau arrived back with many kahawai. While they had been on the ocean, they had checked the pots, and they returned with kōura and kina, which, of course, were added to the evening menu.

I was reminded how that day’s events were so typical of other times I had experienced at the ‘grey house’. Deep in my memories are many anecdotes of people coming to the house, sitting on the same veranda and speaking with Ngoi about a myriad of matters over a cup of tea, in the sunshine and while the rain fell as well. Here, too, whānau came and went, dropping off kai, consulting with the matriarch about particular business and then going on their way; children were bathed and fed and sat between the legs of their Nanny Ngoi while she braided their long black tresses in an adoring fashion while maintaining her conversations with her guests; the shearers arrived home and kai was cooked for everybody who was there, plus extra to leave in the pots for those who may just pop in. There was always an abundance of food, an abundance of whānau, an abundance of visitors who often stayed over and an abundance of love and manaaki from the matriarch herself and her whānau. These images of people coming to the house are etched onto the walls of the homestead and emerge as we reminisce. This house has become a whakaruruhau and the keeper of stories about the matriarch before she tragically passed on. Many of these stories have been told in this book to celebrate the life of an outstanding Māori woman who touched our lives in such a way that we were never quite the same again.

As a professor in Māori studies, I have become acutely aware that the younger (and not so young) generations of Māori are ignorant of the Māori leadership from around the 1960s. People such as the late John Rangihau, who was a friend and contemporary of Ngoi’s, galvanised Māori nationally and activated the Māori renaissance. While this book attempts to describe Ngoi’s life, it is also a tribute to her life as seen through the eyes of other people, who comment on her contribution to the development of our nation. The following extract from Ngoi’s song, ‘Kaua Rā e Huri Noa’ best describes this:

Mā ō mahi ka kitea koe E te ao, e tō iwi Māori.

It will be from your work that you will be recognised By the world, by your Māori people.

This book could be used for educational purposes. It can assist the reader in understanding the significance of Māori leadership from those Māori who were born on the cusp of te ao kōhatu and the period when colonisation became entrenched in the landscape of New Zealand society. As native speakers of the Māori language, they had knowledge of the ancient ways of our ancestors that define who Māori are as indigenous people of this land.

Ngoi had a passion for te reo Māori. She influenced numerous people, and as a result of this, many of them wanted to provide their narratives in the language she too was passionate about. Therefore, their thoughts have been reproduced as they were spoken. This book is bilingual and reflects the voices and thoughts of those people who knew Ngoi Pēwhairangi. The majority of the text is written in English, and many of the Māori quotations have been summarised in English either prior to or just after the inclusion of the quote. This enables those who do not speak te reo Māori to understand the essence of what has been said.

The book is complemented by written material that Ngoi kept. Thankfully, her daughter-in-law, Connie, ensured that these papers were never lost. They have enriched the content of this book. One significant feature of this book is the inclusion of Ngoi’s own works. One chapter is dedicated to her writing, while other chapters have been enhanced by Ngoi’s own thoughts.

Many historical biographies are based on written evidence that has been stored in archives and libraries and are written in a lineal approach that focuses on time and dates. Some biographies include oral histories, although these are often kept to a minimum. In writing about and celebrating the late Ngoi Pēwhairangi, it was important to use a format that best represented the nature of this woman.

Ngoi’s work was always about people. She was accepting of people from all walks of life – people were her passion. Ngoi Pēwhairangi touched the lives of so many people across this nation, and in many instances, these people saw Ngoi as a pseudo-mother figure who provided them with security and shelter, both literally and figuratively. The book, therefore, has been written in a way that highlights this focus on people by including the thoughts and stories of those people who knew Ngoi, quoting them directly so that their thoughts are reflected accurately, and using their own words to celebrate the life of this significant Māori leader.

Ngā Mihi

This book is based on the contributions of many people who gave their time and shared their memories of Ngoi with me. For this, I am eternally grateful. Many of these people have passed on prior to the completion of this book. These people believed that I could fulfil this task, and I only wish they were here to see their words in print. They include the following: Ben Pēwhairangi, Iranui (Ada) Haig, Hārata Coleman, Nunu Kīngi, Wikitōria Matahiki, Donald Parata, Ngaro (Googs) and Jim Herewini, Wiki Wharehinga, Dr Michael King, Davida Mita, Hiti Purewa, Barry Barclay, Māui Dalvanius Prime, Anaru Takurua and Hana Te Hēmara. Kaikini ana te manawa i tō koutou wehenga atu i tēnei ao. Haere atu koutou te tira haere ki te pō, ki tō tātou kōkā, kuia. Moe mai koutou i roto i ngā ringa o te Runga Rawa. Kāti ake!

A special acknowledgement must be made of the Pēwhairangi Whānau Trust, namely Terewai, Connie, Gina and Ngoi, for their longstanding faith in my work. I hope that this book reflects their belief in me and does justice to a loving mother, mother-in-law and grandmother. I would also like to acknowledge Te Whānau o Te Aomihia, which extends beyond the Pēwhairangi Whānau Trust, and also Chubby Renata and his technical team in the creation of the audio waiata composed by Ngoi. These nine waiata can be viewed on the Tāmata Toiere website courtesy of Te Ipukarea – The National Māori Language Institute: see www.waiata.maori.nz or accessed through the QR code.

It is also important to acknowledge the contributions of all the people who gave their thoughts, support and stories to ensure the completion of this book. These people include the following: Connie and Terewai Pēwhairangi, Tāte Pēwhairangi, Hikitia Beach, Bobby Davis, Dave Collier, Phil Aspinall, Pae Ruha, Dr Tīmoti Kāretu, Sandy Adsett, Piripi Hape, Ann Best, Jonette Fairlie, April Waipara, Eruera Grant, Te Ripowai Higgins, Liz Hunkin, Con Jones, Jane Mackenzie, Harawira Matahiki, Henrietta Maxwell, Marata McGregor, Mate McLean, Merekaraka Te Ra Sarnie Ngārimu, Cara-Lee Pēwhairangi, Kody Pēwhairangi, Keriana Pōhatu, Blythe Rogers, Gina Pēwhairangi, Lillian Te Hau, Robyn Hooper, Kahu Te Paa, Trish Laing, Violet Williams, Lena Paenga, Makita Forrester, Nellie Te Hau, Riria Tansey, Vyletta Arago-Kemp, Karen Waterreus, Dr Wharehuia Milroy, Toi Maihi, Tania Mitcalfe, George Kojis, John Coleman, Hinetangi Coleman, Mereana Coleman, Kohi Coleman, Alice Matahiki and Naida Glavish. Sadly, some people who contributed to the first edition have since passed on, but their stories are contained within the pages of this book to be remembered with Ngoi.

In the event that I have mistakenly missed someone out, I offer my sincere apologies. This book includes your thoughts and your love for our kōkā, and I humbly thank you all for your continued support of this project.

There are others who must also be mentioned who supported me in the completion of this work. I would like to particularly thank Professor John Moorfield for his constant support and belief that I could achieve this milestone. My heartfelt thanks to you. Ki taku piripono, Te Murumāra, e kore koe e warewaretia. To my many ‘research assistants’ who have given their time and support to me, including Pearl Barron (née Matahiki) and Dr Rawinia Higgins, Tania Smith, my mother, Judith Ka‘ai, I do appreciate all that you have done for me in keeping the project alive. Me pēhea ake he kōrero atu i te kī – kia ora rawa atu koutou.

Acknowledgements are incomplete without mention of the support I have received from my family. I must acknowledge my mother, Judith Ka‘ai, whose undying love and commitment to me truly makes her not only my mother but my best friend. To my brother, Greig, and sister, Terry-Anne, thank you for all the support and love over the years. Finally, to my daughter, Rachael Ka‘ai-Mahuta, and son-in-law, Dean Mahuta, your youth and vibrancy continues to delight me, and I appreciate your love, support and encouragement over the years to see the completion of this work as a gift to the nation.

This book has been a labour of love in memory of a woman who inspired my life and who sought me out as a young girl to nurture and mentor. I have often asked myself what I have done to deserve this privilege, and then one day I realised that I am an instrument for her work to continue and inspire new generations in holding steadfast to the knowledge and values inherent in our Māori world. For this I will be eternally grateful.

I am also grateful to Huia Publishers for the invitation to produce a second edition of this book. This keeps Ngoi’s legacy alive amongst a younger generation, including my own mokopuna, Māhealani Te Aroha, who may be inspired by this much loved kuia.

Tania M. Ka‘ai (PhD)

He Whakarāpopototanga

Ngoi Pēwhairangi was born on the cusp of te ao kōhatu and the beginning of some dynamic changes in Māori society. Ngoi was a leader who brought with her the knowledge of both worlds. From Te Whānau-a-Ruataupare at Tokomaru Bay, Ngoi was a woman who was cherished by people from all walks of life. She dedicated her adult life to supporting people and influencing their lives to ensure a better future for Māori society. She was passionate about people, and this was demonstrated in her involvement in education, language, performing and traditional arts, politics and her own whānau. This book is a celebration of her life through the stories of the people who knew her. This bilingual text allows people to come to know what a truly remarkable kōkā she was to so many people.

HE KUPU WHAKATAKI

Ehara Tēnei i Te Maunga Nekeneke

Tokomaru Bay is a coastal town nestled between Koutunui Point to the north and Māwhai Point to the south. It sprawls along 8 kilometres of coastline. It is 92 kilometres north of Gisborne on State Highway 35. The area was originally known as Toka-a-namu but was renamed Tokomaru Bay as Pākehā who settled and traded there could not pronounce Toka-a-namu correctly. Toka-a-namu refers to a rock in the ocean that is a cultural landmark for Te Whānau-a-Ruataupare, the hapū of the area.

Prior to Pākehā contact, Māori lived in and around the marae, including Pākirikiri, Pā Maioro, Āraiara (at Mangahauini), Maungatio (at Tāwhiti), Kāingapipi, Maunaroa (inland from Tāwhiti), Tuatini and Kairangi (Mepham 1969: 1).

Many wharenui have been built in Tokomaru Bay, some dating back over two hundred years. Some of these were whānau owned, and others were built for the hapū. Wharenui included Kirikiri, Hikihiki, Tamawhakapeka, Ruatepupuke, Tūmōkai, Māui (1890), Rerekohu (1784), Rongotūkiwaho, Poho-o-maru, Te Haeatu, Paraumu, Rangitaururu and Te Hono ki Rarotonga (1934).